note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustration. see 36461-h.htm or 36461-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36461/36461-h/36461-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36461/36461-h.zip) [illustration: g. scott. scp. hannah snell, _the female soldier &c._] the female soldier; or, the surprising life _and_ adventures of _hannah snell_, born in the city of _worcester_, who took upon herself the name of _james gray_; and, being deserted by her husband, put on mens apparel, and travelled to _coventry_ in quest of him, where she enlisted in col. _guise_'s regiment of foot, and marched with that regiment to _carlisle_, in the time of the rebellion in _scotland_; shewing what happened to her in that city, and her desertion from that regiment. also a full and true account of her enlisting afterwards into _fraser_'s regiment of marines, then at _portsmouth_; and her being draughted out of that regiment, and sent on board the _swallow_ sloop of war, one of admiral _boscawen_'s squadron, then bound for the _east-indies_. with the many vicissitudes of fortune she met with during that expedition, particularly at the siege of _pondicherry_, where she received twelve wounds. likewise, the surprising accident by which she came to hear of the death of her faithless husband, who she went in quest of. together with an account of what happened to her in the voyage to _england_, in the _eltham_ man of war. the whole containing the most surprizing incidents that have happened in any preceeding age; wherein is laid open all her adventures, in mens cloaths, for near five years, without her sex being ever discovered. _london_: printed for, and sold by r. walker, the corner of _elliot's-court_, in the _little old-bailey_. 1750. price one shilling. to the publick. _notwithstanding the surprizing adventures of this our_ british _heroine, of whom the following pages fully and impartially treat; yet the oddity of her conduct for preserving her virtue was such, that it demands not only respect, but admiration; and as there is nothing to be found in the following sheets, but what is matter of fact, it merits the countenance and approbation of every inhabitant of this great isle, especially the fair sex, for whom this treatise is chiefly intended; and the truth of which being confirmed by our heroines affidavit, made before the right hon. the lord mayor, the said affidavit is hereunto annexed, in order to prevent the publick from being imposed upon by fictitious accounts._ hannah snell, _born in the city of_ worcester, _in the year of our lord 1723, and who took upon her the name of_ james gray, _maketh oath, and saith, that she this deponent served his present majesty king_ george, _as a soldier and sailor, from the 27th of_ november, _one thousand seven hundred and forty five, to the 9th of this instant_ june, _and entered herself as a marine in capt._ graham_'s company in col._ fraser_'s regiment, and went on board the_ swallow, _his majesty's sloop of war, to the_ east-indies, _belonging to admiral_ boscawen_'s squadron, where this deponent was present at the siege of_ pondicherry, _and all the other sieges during that expedition, in which she received twelve wounds, some of which were dangerous, and was put into the hospital for cure of the same, and returned into_ england _in the_ eltham _man of war, capt._ lloyd _commander, without the least discovery of her sex._ _and this deponent further maketh oath, and saith, that she has delivered to_ robert walker, _printer, in the_ little old-bailey, london, _a full and true account of the many surprizing incidents, and wonderful hardships she underwent during the time she was in his majesty's service as aforesaid, to be by him printed and published._ _and this deponent lastly saith, that she has not given the least hint of her surprising adventures to any other person, nor will she, this deponent, give any the least account thereof, to any person whatsoever, to be printed or published, save and except the above-mentioned_ robert walker. sworn before me this 27th day of _june_, 1750, at _goldsmith's hall, london_, j. blachford, mayor. witness susannah gray, _sister of the said_ hannah snell. t. edwards. _her_ hannah x snell, _mark_. the life and adventures of _hannah snell, &c._ in this dastardly age of the world, when effeminacy and debauchery have taken place of the love of glory, and that noble ardor after warlike exploits, which flowed in the bosoms of our ancestors, genuine heroism, or rather an extraordinary degree of courage, are prodigies among men. what age, for instance, produces a _charles_ of _sweden_, a _marlborough_, or a prince _eugene_? these are _rara aves in terris_, and when they appear, they seem to be particularly designed by heaven, for protecting the rights of injured nations, against foreign oppression, securing the privileges of innocence from the dire assault of prey and rapine; and, in a word, vindicating the common prerogatives of human nature, from the fatal effects of brutal rage, the love of conquest, and an insatiable lust after power. the amazing benefit arising to mankind from such illustrious and exalted characters, is, perhaps, the principal reason why they attract the eyes, and command the attention of all who hear of them, even in quarters of the world far remote from their influence and sphere of action: why they are the subjects of the poets song, the founders of the historian narration, and the objects of the painters pencil; all which have a tendency to transmit their names with immortal glory to latest ages, and eternize their memories, when their bodies are mouldred into dust, and mingled with their parent earth. perhaps their rarity may also contribute, in a great measure, to that esteem and veneration, which the world thinks fit to pay them: but sure if heroism, fortitude, and a soul equal to all the glorious acts of war and conquest, are things so rare, and so much admired among men; how much rarer, and consequently how much more are they to be admired among women? in short, we may on this occasion, without any hyperbole, use the words of _solomon_, and say, _one man among a thousand have i found, but among women not so_. however, tho' courage and warlike expeditions, are not the provinces by the world allotted to women since the days of the _amazons_, yet the female sex is far from being destitute of heroinism. _cleopatra_ headed a noble army against _mark anthony_, the greatest warrior of his time. _semiramis_ was not inferior to her in courage. the _arcadian_ shepherdesses are as memorable for their contempt of danger as their darling and beloved swains. but among all our heroines, none comes more immediately under our cognizance, nor, perhaps, more merits our attention than the remarkable _hannah snell_, whose history is highly interesting, both on account of the variety of amazing incidents, and the untainted veracity with which it is attended. some people guided rather by the suggestions of caprice, than the dictates of reason and a sound understanding, have foolishly imagin'd, that persons of low and undistinguished births, hardly ever rais'd themselves to the summit of glory and renown; but they will find themselves widely mistaken, when they reflect on a _kauli-kan_, a _cromwell_, and many others i could mention. but if this observation had the smallest foundation either in nature or the course of human experience, from the most remote, to the present age, yet its force does by no means extend to _hannah snell_, the heroine of the subsequent narrative: for though her immediate progenitors were but low in the world, when compared with dukes, earls and generals, yet she had the seeds of heroism, courage and patriotism transferr'd to her from her ancestors, as will appear from the following account of her genealogy. hannah snell, was born in _fryer-street_, in the parish of _st. hellen_'s, in the city of _worcester_, on the 23d day of _april_, 1723. her parents, tho' not immensely rich by the hereditary gifts of fortune, yet secured a competency, which not only placed them above contempt, but also enabled them to bring up, and educate a numerous family, none of whom have miscarried for want either of sufficient learning from masters, or salutary advices and virtuous examples from their parents. and though mrs. _hannah snell_ did not while she was at school learn to write, yet she made a tolerable progress in the other part of education common to her sex, and could read exceeding well. though the father of our heroine was no more than a _hosier_ and _dyer_, yet he was the son of the illustrious capt. lieut. _sam. snell_, for so i may or rather must call him, since with intrepidity he stood the brunt of the wars in the latter end of king _william_'s reign, signalized himself at the taking of _dunkirk_ and served faithfully in the _english_ army during queen _anne_'s wars. this captain lieutenant _snell_, the grandfather of our heroine, enter'd as a volunteer in king _william_'s reign, and in the beginning of queen _anne_'s wars, was at the taking of _dunkirk_ under the duke of _marlborough_, where the captain lieutenant was killed by a shot fired through the wicket by the governor; upon which he fired, and killed the governor. when the duke was informed thereof, he called him, and asked him what preferment he desired; his answer was, that he chose to accept of that commission, which was become vacant by the death of the captain lieutenant, which he was immediately preferr'd to, and took upon him the command as such. after the surrender of _dunkirk_, where he received several dangerous wounds, he returned to _england_, where he had the proffer of a very handsome pension in _chelsea college_; but coveting fresh glory, and new trophies of conquest, he intreated of his grace, that he would permit him once more to go abroad with him, that he might have an opportunity of signalizing his valour, against the avowed enemies of his country. this his request his grace complied with, and at the battle of _malplaquet_ he received a mortal wound, from whence he was carried to _ghent_, where he died: this last, was the twenty-second bloody battle in which he had been engaged, and which he generously launched out into upon the sublime motives, liberty and property. this gentleman's character must appear the more sublime, when we observe how he advanced himself by merit from a private _cadit_ to the rank he held at his death; and had it not been for his over-modest and generous sentiments, he might have been preferr'd to a much higher rank; but the _englishman_ prevail'd above self-interest. the son of this illustrious man of whom we have here treated, and father of our heroine, was possessed of many excellent gifts, particularly courage, for which he was distinguished; yet never had an opportunity of displaying his bravery in the field of battle, his genius leading him another way, to wit, trade, into which he entered very young, and prospered in the world, married to his liking, and in a few years saw himself the father of nine promising children, three of which were sons, and six daughters, all of whom save one daughter, were either soldiers or sailors, or intermarried with them. the eldest of the sons, _samuel snell_, incapable of restraint, and void of all fear, listed himself a soldier in lord _robert manners_'s company in the first regiment of foot-guards, commanded by his royal highness the duke of _cumberland_; when he was draughted to go for _flanders_, where he received his mortal wound at the battle of _fontenoy_; and being sent to the hospital at _doway_, he there expired. tho' the daughters were, by those who knew them, accounted aimable women, both on account of their persons and their virtue; yet i shall pass over the characters of five of them in silence, and only take notice of that of _hannah_, the youngest of them but one, who is the heroine of this subject. it is a common thing to observe a family dispersed, when the heads of that family are either laid in their graves, or by accidental calamities rendered incapable of supporting it longer. accordingly, when the father and mother of _hannah_ died, _hannah_ came up to _london_, and arrived in town on _christmas-day_, 1740, and resided for some time, with her sister in _wapping_. some time after she came to _london_, she contracted an acquaintance with one _james summs_, a sailor, who was a _dutchman_; this acquaintance was gradually improved into a familiarity, and this familiarity soon created a mutual, tho' not a criminal passion; for in a little time, _summs_ made his addresses to her as a lover, and gained her consent, and was married to her at the _fleet_, on the sixth day of _january_, 1743-4. but all his promises of friendship, proved instances of the highest perfidy, and he turn'd out the worst and most unnatural of husbands. since, tho' she had charms enough to captivate the heart, and secure the affection of any reasonable man, yet she was despised and contemned by her husband, who not only kept criminal company with other women of the basest characters, but also made away with her things, in order to support his luxury, and the daily expences of his whores. during this unlucky period of the husband's debauchery, she poor woman proved with child, and at the same time felt all the shocks of poverty, without exposing her necessities to her nearest friends. but at last, her pregnancy laid the foundation for her passing through all the scenes, thro' which she has wandered; for when she was seven months gone with child, her perfidious husband finding himself deeply involv'd in debt, made an elopement from her. notwithstanding these her calamities, she patiently bore herself up under them, and in two months after her husband's departure was delivered of a daughter which lived no more than seven months, and was decently interred at her own expence at _st. george_'s parish in _middlesex_. from the time of her husband's elopement till the time she put on man's cloaths, she continued with her sister, who is married to one _james gray_, a house carpenter, in _ship-street, wapping_, and from whence she took her departure unknown to any, and was never heard of until her return; and with whom she now dwells. as she was now free from all the ties arising from nature and consanguinity; she thought herself privileged to roam in quest of the man, who, without reason, had injured her so much; for there are no bounds to be set either to love, jealousy or hatred, in the female mind. that she might execute her designs with the better grace, and the more success, she boldly commenced a man, at least in her dress, and no doubt she had a right to do so, since she had the real soul of a man in her breast. dismay'd at no accidents, and giving a full scope to the genuine bent of her heart, she put on a suit of her brother-in-law, mr. _james gray_'s, cloaths, assumed his name, and set out on the 23d of _november_, 1745, and travelled to _coventry_, with a view of finding her husband, where she enlisted on the 27th of the said month of _november_, in general _guise_'s regiment, and in the company belonging to captain _miller_. with this regiment she marched from _coventry_ to _carlisle_, where she learned her military exercise, which she now performs with as much skill and dexterity as any serjeant or corporal in his majesty's service. but here, as fortune is often a foe to the distressed, she met with a discouraging circumstance; for her serjeant, whose name was _davis_, having a criminal inclination for a young woman in that town, looked upon this our female heroine, (a common soldier in the company) as a proper person for assisting him in this his vicious intrigue, therefore disclosed to her this bosom secret, and desired her endeavours in promoting this end; however, this open discovery caused a sudden emotion in her mind, her virtuous soul abhorred with a becoming detestation the criminal intention; yet to prevent the ill consequences that she foresaw must ensue from a refusal of complying with his request, she promised to use her endeavours in his behalf; but instead of acting the pimp, she went and disclosed the whole matter to the young woman, and warned her against the impending danger; which act of virtue and generosity in a soldier, gained her the esteem and confidence of this young woman, who took great delight in her company; and seldom a day passed but they were together, having cultivated an intimacy and friendship with each other: but _davis_ going one day to make his addresses to his mistress, met with an unexpected repulse, which unusual treatment made him suspect our female soldier. jealousy that moment took possession of his guilty breast, and he imagined, that instead of befriending him in his amours, she had become his rival, and had gained her over to her inclinations. these reflections troubled him much; revenge reigned triumphant in his breast, and how to punish her was his chief aim: he took hold of the earliest opportunity, and accused her before the commanding officer for neglect of duty, upon which she was sentenced to receive six hundred lashes, five hundred of which she received, having her hands tied to the castle gates for a crime which nature put it out of her power to perpetrate, and had undergone the punishment of the other hundred, had it not been for the intercession of some of the officers. this severe and unjust punishment, reduced her to a very low state, but notwithstanding this severe whipping, the villain _davis_ bore her an implacable hatred, and strove all he could to depress her, by putting her upon the hardest and most difficult duties; but she was most tenderly and affectionately regarded by her female friend, who neglected nothing that might assure her, she was neither unmindful nor ungrateful for the friendship she had shewed her. soon after this, a fresh and unforeseen trouble presented itself; there happened to come a fresh recruit to the regiment, a young man whose name was _george beck_, a carpenter, born in _worcester_ city, that had come to _london_ in quest of business, and happened to lodge with her brother and sister, and whom she left at her brothers house when she went off in men's cloaths, the sight of whom troubled her much, fearing she should be discovered by him; this, together with the serjeant's ill treatment, inspired her with a resolution to desert; having carried this her intention to maturity, she communicated the same to her intimate friend the young woman, who, tho' loth to lose the company of such a friend and companion, yielded to her remonstrances, and provided her with money to bear her charge in her intended flight. having gone so far with the author of this subject, i cannot refrain making a little digression, and making a few reflections upon the melancholy prospect: what an ocean of troubles was this unfortunate woman involved in? behold her inwardly looking back on the past vicissitudes of her life, on an inhumane, ungrateful and faithless husband, who had broke through all engagements, sacred and civil, and had drove her into all the direful troubles and afflictions she was then involved in: behold her tempted by a vicious man, to be aiding and assisting in carrying on an immodest and abominable intrigue; but (being inspired with virtuous and generous sentiments) she proved the instrument of extracting good out of evil, in discovering to the innocent maid, where the net was spread for her, that she might guard her self against the adversary: behold the friendship that this virtuous discovery produced, it chained them together in the strictest bonds of love and affection, which never quitted its hold, till forced thereto by a hard fate: behold her suspected of supplanting the serjeant of his mistress, and the direful effects his jealousy occasioned, having her arms extended, and fixed to the city gates, and there receive the number of five hundred severe lashes, as the effects of a partial and unjust sentence: behold her tender flesh cut and mangled by these scourgings, and the pains and agonies she suffered: behold in this her distress, the friendly sympathy and eager assistance of her female friend, who administred relief to her under this her dilemma: behold the commotions she felt upon perciving one in the regiment whom she knew, and by whom she was afraid of being discovered; the bad treatment she met with from the serjeant, and what a storm must surround her upon her projecting the means for an escape, and the moving seperation 'twixt her and her friend: the rehearsal of so many concurring circumstances of adversity, is sufficient to melt the most stoney heart into a compassionate tenderness for this our female adventurer. having finished this digression, i shall begin where i left off. upon her desertion, she set out on foot for _portsmouth_, and about a mile out of _carlisle_, exchanges her regimental clothes for worse, with some people employed in cutting down pease. but courage and love, like impetuous torrents, rage the more they are opposed; for _hannah_ whose breast was actuated with both these principles, had no sooner arrived at _portsmouth_, than she found her expectations disapointed: however, whether despair or the hopes of again meeting that unfaithful man, who had made her the mother of a helpless infant, actuated her breast and gave her passions a preternatural spring. so it was, that she courageously inlisted herself in captain _graham_'s company in colonel _fraser_'s regiment, and soon after there was a draught made, to go abroad in admiral _boscawen_'s fleet, and she chanced to be one of the number draughted, and went immediately on board the _swallow_ sloop, captain _rosier_, commander; and when on board was observed to be handy in washing, as well as in dressing victuals, for the mess she first belonged to, and being thus remarkable, she was sollicited by _richard wyegate_, lieutenant of marines, to become one of their mess, which she readily agreed to, as believing the officers mess, was better than the common mens, and she acted in the station of their boy, and by her modest deportment soon became a favourite, drest their victuals, washed and mended their linnen. she was stationed (in case of an engagement) on the quarter-deck, and to fight at small arms, and made one of the after-guard; she was obliged to keep watch four hours on and four off, day and night, being often obliged to go aloft, and altho' unexperienced with these kind of hardships, soon became expert in the business. on their first setting sail, they enjoyed as fine weather, and as fair winds as could possibly be wished for, to convey a ship safely and expeditiously from one harbour to another. but no sooner were they arrived in the bay of _biscay_ than the scene was altered; their favourable weather converted into a dismal hurricane, and their smooth placed ocean, changed into billows, which threaten'd them with immediate death, by this moment raising them to the clouds, and in the next plunging them, as it were, to the centre of the earth. the danger may be easily estimated, from the circumstance, for the _swallow_ was as strong and well built a vessel, as any belonging to his majesty's navy of her burden: yet such was the stress of weather, that she sprung her main-mast, and lost not only the gib-boom, but also two top-masts. after they had for several days been beat about in this imminent danger, they with great difficulty arrived in the port of _lisbon_, which was great joy to them, after having suffered so much in the bay of _biscay_, where every moment they had been in danger of being swallowed up in the vast abyss. in this port, which to them was like a safe asylum, or sanctuary, to a man pursued by a hungry and enraged lyon, they continued three weeks; because the vessel was so damaged, that the number of hands employed in refitting her could not do it sooner. here they found the _vigilant_ man of war, which was likewise much damaged in the storm in the bay of _biscay_, being one of the fleet that sail'd from _portsmouth_ with them. while she was ashore at _lisbon_, with her master, she was quartered at one mrs. _poore_'s a punch-house and tavern; but says nothing material happened there, during the three weeks. as it often happens for the wise and noble purposes of heaven, that one misfortune succeeds another, as close as the waves on the sea-shore; so the _swallow_ set sail in company with the _vigilant_ man of war, in order to join the admiral's squadron; and the next night after their departure, another violent storm happened, in which the _swallow_ not only lost sight of the _vigilant_, but also sprung her main-mast, lost most of her rigging, and was so much damaged in her hold, that all the sailors and marines were obliged to take their several turns at the pump, which is by far a harder piece of labour, than those who have never tried it are apt to imagine. such a series of calamities succeeding each other so fast, and so unexpectedly, were, in all appearance, sufficient to daunt the strongest resolution, and cool the courage of the bravest young sailor that ever trod the deck of a ship. but some minds are cast, if i may so speak, in so happy a mould, that danger and difficulties instead of depressing, raise them above themselves, enlarge their views, and animate them to stem the tide of adversity, which they rarely fail to surmount by steadiness and perseverance. to this favourite class of mortals our heroine belonged, since on this occasion she not only willingly took her turn at the pump of a sinking vessel, but also performed the several offices of a common sailor, and in both qualities behaved with such judgment and intrepidity, that, next under god, she was looked upon by the ship's company as a kind of deliverer, and an instrument of their preservation. the _swallow_ after this disaster made the best of her way to _gibraltar_, were as soon as they arrived, she went on shore, and attended lieutenant _richard wigate_, lieutenant of the marines, who was very ill, and lodged at mrs. _davis_'s on the hill. the ship refitted here with the utmost expedition, and sailed for the _madiera_ islands, where she took in such wines, and other provisions, as was thought necessary for the intended voyage. as providence is always kind to distress, she here met with the _sheerness_ privateer of _bristol_, whose commander generously supplied her with a sufficient number of hands, and from thence, they sailed to the cape of _good hope_, and in their voyage, were put upon short, and some time after upon half allowance. during their passage, their allowance was shortened, as i just beforementioned, and that which they had, was salt and bad, and besides there was so great a scarcity of water on board, that they were allowed only a pint a day for some time; all which, must have been great hardships to her. when they arrived at the cape, they there met with the admiral in the _namur_, which was great joy to them; and our heroine being disappointed hitherto of meeting her faithless husband, and now seeing the fleet all in company, was in hopes of acquiring some glory as a soldier, knowing the reason of this fleet's being fitted out was to annoy the enemies of her country, which soon happened according to her wishes, as the fleet soon sailed from this port for _morusus_, on which place they began their first attack; and though unexperienced in the use of arms, except in learning her exercise, she behaved with an uncommon bravery, and exerted herself in her country's cause. this attack did not hold long; our brave admiral finding this impracticable, and unwilling to lose his ships and men, for whom he had great regard, left that place, and sailed for fort st. _david_'s, where they arrived in a little time, and the marines being put on shore joined the _english_ army, and encamped, and in about three weeks marched and encamped before _elacapong_, and laid siege to it, with an intent to storm the place. this fresh adventure inspired her with fresh hopes of shewing her undaunted courage, which she did to the admiration of her officers; but on the tenth day of the siege, a shell from the _english_ took the magazine of the enemy, and blew it up, which occasioned them to surrender at discretion. i cannot help reflecting a little upon the hardships, fatigues and dangers she incountered from the time she left _lisbon_ in _europe_, till her arrival before _pondicherry_ in _asia_, so many vicissitudes, as were sufficient to damp the spirits of an _alexander_ or a _cã¦sar_, storms, hurricanes and pinching want, were her concomitants, pumping an almost wrecked vessel, was her most constant (tho' laborious) employment; seventeen weeks short allowance from the _maderas_ to the _cape_ of _good hope_, was all she had to subsist upon; attacks upon fortified towns, some of which were impregnable, where bomb-shells and cannons were incessantly displaying death wherever they fell; at other times, moving, marching, and encamping; i say such reflections and gloomy prospects, prove the cause of many such hardships and difficulties even in the most robust of the masculine gender, how much more in one of the tender sex, who are afraid of shaddows, and shudders at the pressage of a dream. i shall now proceed to their march to _pondicherry_, which is but a few leagues from the forementioned place; they encamped within about three miles from the town, _boscawen_ being then both admiral and general, and major _mount pleasant_ informed them with their intention, which was to storm the place, which attack was began by the ships firing at the fort, some of which time they lay middle-deep in water in their trenches: this attack continued eleven weeks, part of which time they had no bread, most of their food being rice; and the many bombs and shells thrown among them, killed and wounded many of their men. during this space of time, she behaved with the greatest bravery and intrepidity, such as was consistent with the character of an _english_ soldier, and though so deep in water, fired 37 rounds of shot, and received a shot in the groin, six shots in one leg, and five in the other. the siege being now broke up, by reason of the heavy rains, and violent claps of thunder, it being the time of the year when the _monzoons_ (for so they are called in that country) happens, she was sent to an hospital at _cuddylorom_, under the care of two able physicians, _viz._ mr. _belchier_ and mr. _hancock_; but she, not willing to be discovered, extracted the ball out of her groin herself, and always drest that wound; and in about three months was perfectly cured; but most of the fleet being sailed before her recovery, she was left behind, and sent on board the _tartar pink_, which then lay in the harbour, where she remained, doing the duty of a sailor, till the return of the fleet from _madrass_ when she was turned over to the _eltham_, captain _lloyd_ commander, and sailed for _bombay_, where they arrived in about ten days, being scarce of hands, having only eight in a watch, of which she was one; and what made their fatigue still more, was their being obliged to keep continually at the pump, the ship having sprung a leak in her larboard bow. at _bombay_ they were obliged to heave the ship down in order to clean her bottom, which kept them there about five weeks, and then they sailed to _monserrat_, to take the _royal duke indiaman_ under convoy, to bring her to fort st. _david_'s where she was gone for provisions. at _bombay_ her master being on shore, she was obliged to watch in her turn, as is usual on such occasions; but being one night on duty, mr. _allen_, who then had the command of the ship, being on shore, desired her to sing for him, which she begged that he would excuse, as she was not very well; but he being proud in this his new employ, as commander, absolutely commanded her to sing; which she refused to do, as she did not think it any incumbent duty for a soldier to sing when commanded so to do, and that by one who was not an officer in their core, or had she any obligations to him; however this refusal proved of fatal consequence to her; he ordered her immediately into irons, which accordingly was done, and continued for the space of five days, and then ordered her to have a dozen lashes, which she had at the gang-way of the ship, and after that sent to the foretop-mast-head, for four hours; such is the cruelty of those that are invested with power, and do not know how to use it. however, this man's cruelty did not go unpunished; for after there arival in _england_, as they were unriging the ship, one of the sailors let a block fall on his head, which hurt him greatly. they now, with the _royal duke_, sailed from _montserrat_ to fort st. _david_'s, and was there at the time of the great hurricane, when the _namur_ and _pembroke_, and other ships were lost: the _eltham_, of which she was on board, had some share in the said hurricane, for she broke her cables, and was forced to sea; but happily returned in again to the port without receiving any great damage. now during her stay here at fort st. _david_'s, she had frequent opportunities, and causes for reflection: she went on shore sundry times along with some of the men, where her ears and her eyes were often affected with the disagreeable sound of horrible oaths, and many lewd actions and gestures, such as stripping themselves naked, when they went to swim, a sight, which however disagreeable it might appear to her, yet she was forced to make a virtue of necessity, by openly conforming herself to those rude, indiscreet, and unwomanly actions, which she silently disfavoured and contemned. but here the unpolished tars had not opportunities of extending their wickedness to such a high pitch as they would have done, had they had objects to satiate their brutish appetites; for there were but a few white women in the place; however she saw too much not to be afflicted, lest her sex should by their impudent, and unlimited behaviour, be discovered, and her virtue sacrificed to their rapacious, boundless and lustful appetites; but innocency and virtue is the safest protection in the worst of times; and this was what sheltered her from the much dreaded calamity that threatned her. on the 19th of _november_ last, the _eltham_ sailed with the rest of the fleet from fort st. _david_'s, and kept company till they came to the cape of _good hope_; when the _eltham_ had orders to make the best of her way to _lisbon_, to take in money for the use of the merchants of _london_. the day after they left fort st. _david_'s, her master lieutenant _wyegate_ died, in whose death she lost the only friend she had on board, and where to find such another, she knew not: this brought afresh into her mind the remembrance of her faithless husband, whole villainy and cruelty had drove her to all the straits, hardships and dangers she endured both by sea and land, and had reduced her to the wretched state she was then in. these reflections were sufficient to have sunk the spirits of the most hardy hero; but she bore them with a becoming resignation. she was distinguished amongst the ship's crew for her ingenuity in washing and mending of linnen, but as it is common on board of king's ships to have some men who are dexterous at such performances, she was not suspected upon that score. some time after the death of lieutenant _wyegate_, she was taken into the service of lieutenant _kite_, second lieutenant of the ship, and continued so about two months; when he getting a boy, he recommended her to mr. _wallace_, third lieutenant of the ship, who proved also a very good master to her. but now she was laid open (though contrary to her inclination) to the company of the sailors, for they were used, when she had her head shaved, to enquire why she did not shave her beard; her answer was, that she was too young. upon which they used to damn her, calling her miss _molly gray_, she used to return the uncivil compliment, by damning them, and telling them, that she could prove herself, as she had always done, during the voyage, as good a man as any seaman on board, and that she would lay them a wager upon that point. during this long voyage, they often used, as i have just said, on account of her smooth face, to burlesque her, by swearing she was a woman. this expression, however indifferently they meant it, gave her abundance of trouble; she foresaw what the consequence would be, in case this joke was carried too far; to prevent which, she with a masculine but modest assurance, told them, that if they would lay any wager, she would give them ocular demonstration of her being as much a man as the best in the ship; which reply had the desired effect, seeing it put a stop to their further suggestions: next, they began to declare her to be a woman on account of her smooth face, seeing she had no beard; but she told them that she was so very young, that it could not be supposed she should have a beard so soon; however, she could not prevent their calling her by the name of _molly gray_, which appellation she went by during the voyage, until they arrived at _lisbon_. while they lay at _lisbon_, she often went on shore in company with the ships crew, upon parties of pleasure, and was always their companion in their revellings; this part she acted, not out of choice, but for wise ends. she remember'd in what manner she had been reflected upon by them during the voyage from st. _david_'s to _lisbon_, therefore she pointed out this method as the most effectual, to prevent any further suspicious _reflections for the future_. she very wisely judged, that by associating herself with them, by shewing a free and chearful disposition, and by being ready to come into their measures, she should banish from their imaginations the least suspicion of her being a woman, and by that means enjoy a free and uninterrupted passage to her native country, without discovering her sex. there was one of the ship's crew, named _edward jefferies_, an intimate acquaintance, a marine, and mess-mate of her's; they two had contracted an acquaintance and familiarity with two young women in _lisbon_, the handsomest of which was the favourite of our heroine; but _jefferies_ taking a greater liking to her choice than his own, proposed to toss up who should have her, which she readily agreed to, not caring how soon she should be rid of such a companion: this _jefferies_ on tossing up gained the lady, upon which she readily resigned her into his hands, and made that serve as a good excuse for being rid of them both. this intimacy subsisted between them and the _portugueze_ women while they remained at _lisbon_, and when they were about to set sail for _england_, their sweethearts came to the ship's side in order to take leave of them, but was prevented from coming on board, by the command of the captain. we shall leave the candid reader at liberty to judge the disorders, terrors and distractions that so many various scenes must have plunged her into; such a disquiet, that she had not felt the like in all her past enterprizes. a thousand inquietudes rolled in upon her, like so many billows, and almost sunk her down into the abyss of despair. she began to reflect upon the many vicissitudes she had underwent, since her first launching out into the boisterous sea of war, occasioned by the cruelty of a perfidious husband. what dangers, what hardships, and what fatigues she had underwent! the many inconveniences she had overcome, and the difficulties she had surmounted, in preserving her virtue untainted in the midst of so many vicious and prophane actions, as had often been represented in their blackest sable to her view, and that she had hitherto come off conqueress, and when almost at the door of her native country, unsullied and undefiled by any of these temptations wherewith she had been assaulted; then to be in the greatest danger; then to have that virtue, which had hitherto been her assistant and comfortable companion in all her adverse fortune, tore from her breast, and nothing left behind but shame, guilt and confusion. these reflections had almost vanquished her great spirit, had not her good genius led her to put in practice the scheme she had formed at _lisbon_, which answered the end she aimed at, and by which her virtue, which was always dear to her, remains still untainted, to her immortal praise. on the affair of the supply of the men they had from the _sheerness_ privateer at _madeira_, she gave the following account; which was, that after they were come on board the _swallow_ sloop, some of them seemed very pensive; so that her curiosity led her to enquire into the reason of their grief, which she found was occasioned by their being brought on board a man of war, which at first to her seemed strange, not being acquainted with the manner of men being impressed; and having often conversed with some of them, found they were sent on board by force; and some of them having wives and children in _england_, and some in _ireland_, the thoughts of their long separation from their wives and families, and the uncertainty of ever seeing them again, was the chief cause of their sorrows. this relation, and the anxieties some of them shewed, gave her new matter of contemplation, and often, when retired in her master's cabin, reflected on her own fate, having herself been married to a most faithless man, who had left her in the utmost distress, at a time she was not able to help herself, and that without any reason, but what was occasioned by his own extravagances. but here she found the difference in that sex, and that greater then she ever conceived before: here she saw men in the greatest affliction, for being forced from them they loved; offering there all for liberty to return to their native land and families, whilst her perfideous husband's chief care was to avoid her. however, it was some consolation to her, in these her distressed circumstances, to find some on board, and who she concluded must be her companions as shipmates, inspired with sentiments of honour and virtue; she also reflected on the unhappy circumstances of those poor women and children these men had left behind, and often wished she could have an opportunity of relating to them what she now saw; imagining from her own case, that it would be some consolation to them to hear so great proof of their affections. she at first blamed them for going to sea on board the privateer, but when she was informed that it was only for a little time, and they not bound to serve longer, than a certain time specified in their articles, and that their chief motives was to serve their families; in so doing she looked on them as real objects of compassion, which occasioned her to sympathize with them; and though fortune had been so unkind to herself, she could not refrain thinking of theirs, and often endeavoured to asswage their sorrows, by recommending to them hopes of a happy return to _england_; and also procured every thing which she thought necessary for them on board, which was somewhat in her power, having recourse to all her master's stores, especially his liquors, which was pretty plentiful at that time. i shall depart a little from the subject, and give the reader an account of that basest of men, our heroine's husband, who upon deserting his lawful wife, entered himself as a foremast man on board one of his countrymen, then lying in the river _thames_. but where can the guilty criminal fly for sanctuary? his own conscience must prove his executioner, and a thousand monitors within, who vulture like, always gnaw the liver, not suffering the mind to enjoy the shortest interval of quiet; this admirable truth has been fully verified in him, according to the most substantial circumstances, as shall hereafter be made appear. one day at _lisbon_, on her return to _england_, falling in company with many of her ship-mates, they all went into an _irish_ house, by the _romanado_'s, to drink some wine, where was sitting at the same time an _englishman_, a sailor, who had lately come from _genoa_ on board a _dutch_ vessel; there were some of his brother tars in company who knew him; upon which they became very merry, and began, over their glass and their pipe, to talk over some of their adventures, and what they met with in their travels worthy taking notice of; and she, acoording to her constant practice, was enquiring amongst the mariners if any of them knew one _james summs_, who, she said, had formerly been an intimate acquaintance of her's; upon which this stranger broke speech, and told 'em of an affair that happened at _genoa_ while he was there. there was, says he, a _dutchman_ of that name, a sailor, imprisoned there, for stabbing a native of the place, a person of some distinction, with a knife, of which wound he soon expired; i, with two or three more of our countrymen appointed to go and visit him under this his misfortune, which we accordingly did: when we came to the place, we were introduced by a kind of officer, where he lay in a melancholy situation; but upon our entering the room, he raised himself up from the place where he had reclined his head, and saluted us in _english_; then we began to condole his misfortune: upon which, finding us affected with his melancholy situation, and the cruel punishment he was about to suffer, he spoke to us in the following manner. gentlemen, the crime i am to die for i committed, therefore my punishment will be just whenever it falls: but this is not the only crime i stand indicted for at the bar of that all-seeing judge, who searches into the innermost recesses of our most concealed actions, and who pursues the guilty where-ever they go; i, who am here condemned for murder, a few years ago lived in _wapping, london_, my name is _james summs_, a _dutchman_ by birth; i married a young woman there, named _hannah snell_, born in _worcester_, but who then lodged with a brother-in-law, a carpenter in _ship-street_: we had not been long joined in matrimony before she proved with child; and i, forgetting my duty as a husband, and an approaching father, gave a loose to my vicious inclinations, eloped from the partner of my bed, and the one half of myself, went and took up my residence amongst a parcel of lewd, base women, who withdrew my affections entirely from her, who had the only just title to it; and to satisfy their insatiable and extravagant demands, i drained her of her all. this proved only the downfall to my future calamities; for my substance being now exhausted, thrust out of doors by these _ladies of pleasure_, who proved to me _ladies of pain_, and being ashamed to look my much injured wife in the face any more, whom i had so basely betrayed, my mind was rack'd with exquisite torture, so that i would willingly have fled from myself if it had been possible. a thousand inventions came into my head how i should dispose of myself at this critical juncture. i employed all the skill i was master of to be assisting in extricating me out of this dilemma; at last i resolved to go on board one ship or other, in order to make a voyage. the first ship i boarded was a _rotterdam_ trader, who accepted me in the capacity of a sailor, having but few hands, the steersman agreed to give me 40 guilders _per_ month. a few days afterwards we made down with the tide, and sailed over to _rotterdam_, where we unloaded: we had not been many days here, before an unforeseen accident happened, which was like to have produced fatal consequences: one of the boys going one day into the steerage with a lighted candle, where was some powder loose; a spark from the candle dropt into the powder, which in an instant blew up, and did great damage to the vessel. this accident was charged upon me by two of the men who bore me a grudge; upon which i was keel-haul'd, and received many lashes besides. this ill usage provoked me much, so that i determined to quit my master's service, and let him know that i intended to leave him; upon which he paid me my wages, and we parted. i then entered myself on board an _irish_ merchant, bound to _lisbon_, which voyage i performed, and returned to _cork_, the place where the cargo was to be disposed of. here, after i had received my wages, i was discharged, and falling into bad company, my wages was soon spent, and being without money, cloaths or friends, in a strange country, made my case very deplorable, which brought into my mind, my wicked proceedings to my dear wife, and i lookt upon those afflictions i underwent, as a just punishment from heaven, for my wicked actions; however, these reflections soon gave way to self-preservation; i was in great distress, and how to work my deliverance, was the main subject of my thoughts; at the very same time, there was a _portuguese_ vessel lying in the harbour, bound to _genoa_; they wanted a few hands, some of their own men having died in the voyage; i proffered my service; they accepted of me, staid in _cork_, a few days afterwards, then weighed anchor, and set sail for _genoa_, where we arrived in safety in about three weeks; here we had not continued long, before i perpetrated the murther, for which i am about to suffer: now gentlemen, i have given you a full account of the most material incidents that has happened to me since i left _england_, i therefore earnestly intreat the favour of you, when once you return to _england_, to enquire after my wife, and if you find her, be pleased in my name, to present her the love of a dying husband, who conscious of his guilt, humbly begs her pardon and forgiveness, for all the injuries he hath done her, since first he knew her; this his request we promised to fulfill, if once we returned to _england_; so we took our last farewel. none of us, ever saw him afterwards, but were informed, that he was sewed up in a sack, with heavy stones, and thrown into the sea; the other two _englishmen_ sailed for _leghorn_, and i for this place, and when i go home, i intend to make an enquiry concerning the said woman: she listened attentively all the while he was relating this story, and weighing all the particular circumstances of this relation, she perceived so many concurring circumstances blended together, as put it beyond all doubt he was her husband; this account however, notwithstanding his vile proceedings, grieved her much, and no doubt would have broke forth into briny tears, had she been in a place of retirement: she sometimes grieved at his cruel and untimely fate, but suddenly, the ill treatment she met with from him, returned triumphant in her mind, and extinguished her kindled tenderness: however, she told the sailor who related this story, that from the account he gave of this man, he must have been the same identical person, with whom she had formerly been acquainted, and if once she came to _england_, she would endeavour to find out the wife of this unfortunate man, whom she knew very well, and would acquaint her with this catastrophe, and by so saying, concealed herself entirely from the least suspicion. having now finished the account of her husbands untimely end, as related to her at _lisbon_; the detail of which, appeared to her, as if sent from above, to free her from those anxious cares, which, in the midst of the greatest dangers, always set triumphant in her breast, i shall now proceed to her voyage from thence to _england_. they set sail from _lisbon_ the 3d of _may_, and arrived at _spithead_ the 1st of _june_, without any thing material during the voyage (which was lengthened by calms and contrary winds); that very day she arrived at _spithead_ she came on shore, and took a lodging along with several of her shipmates and marines, at one _james cunningham_'s, at the sign of the _jolly marine_ and _sailor_; where the house being thronged with lodgers, she was obliged to be bedfellow to one _john huchins_, a brother marine, the first night; but during her short stay in _portsmouth_, in her often rovings in and about the town, (which was only two days and three nights) she happen'd to meet with the sister of mr. _cunningham_, the drum-major's wife, one _catherine ----_, with whom she had cultivated a slender acquaintance at the time she first enlisted there. this young woman knew _hannah_ to be the young soldier that had enlisted and been sent abroad with admiral _boscawen_, and expressed some joy at her safe return: then entering into this conversation, introduced a farther intimacy; and _hannah_, rather than sit to drink with her shipmates, spent most of her time with this young woman. this opportunity improved their conversation, and sometimes they conversed upon love; and _hannah_ finding this young woman had no dislike to her, she endeavoured to try if she could not act the lover as well as the soldier, which she so well effected, that it was agreed upon she should return from _london_, in order to be married as soon as she had got her discharge and pay; and tho' but so short a time there as two days, had effected this her amour so as to obtain the young woman's consent to marry her. in order to countenance this her scheme, she told the supposed object of her love, that as soon as she arrived at _london_, and received her wages, she would remit the same to her; and when she had visited, and tarried some time with each of her nigh relations and intimate friends, she would then return to _portsmouth_, according to agreement, and consummate their matrimonial ceremonies with a solemnity suitable to her abilities. the next night, being _saturday_ the 2d of _june_, _hannah_'s bedfellow, who had lain with her the night before, went out of town, and one _james moody_, who had been a ship-mate with her on board the _eltham_ from fort st. _david_'s to _england_, coming in the evening of that day, and wanting a lodging, he was received by the landlord, and as _hannah_ was his intimate, he was admitted to be her bedfellow, which continued for two nights together, without the least suspicion in life. it is here worthy of observation, that this woman should lay three nights with two different men, one of whom who had been her companion and fellow-adventurer, during the space of fifteen months and more; and never, during that space of time, discover the least hint of her being of the female kind; and this man had often been her assistant in the most dangerous exploits, and could not avoid acknowledging, that she behaved upon all occasions, with the greatest bravery and resolution. whitmonday, being the 4th of _june_, she set out from _portsmouth_ for _london_; accompanied by _george orley_, a serjeant of marines, who was a partner with her in her adventures, and who, together with nine marines, accompanied her to _london_: she received before they set out from _portsmouth_, five shillings conduct-money. the first place she traveled to after her departure from _portsmouth_, was _petersfield_, in _hampshire_; where she lay all night, with one _andrew gray_ a marine, not only in the same regiment, but in the same company: next day travel'd as far as _guildford_, where the aforesaid _andrew gray_ and she were bedfellows; next night she arrived in _london_, where she disingaged herself from her old intimates, and lodged along with her brother, mr. _james gray_, carpenter, in _ship-street, wapping_; where she now resides. now i have brought my female adventurer home again to her native country, after near five years adventures; prompted thereto by the ill usage of a faithless husband, who, after first stripping her of her all, and then eloping, prompted her to the resolution of disguising herself, by putting on men's apparel, going into the country without the knowledge of her brother, sister, or any other of her friends, in search of him who had thus abused her; and entering into colonel _guise_'s regiment of foot, then lying at _coventry_, who from thence marched to _carlisle_, where she was ill used, the particulars of which, are set forth at large in the foregoing pages: how she received five hundred lashes at _carlisle_, as a punishment for her virtuous conduct, her resolution to desert, and her puting this determination into execution; her changing her military cloathing about a mile from town, for the rustick garb of a shepherd; her arrival at _portsmouth_, her entering into general _fraser_'s regiment of marines, her being draughted out for the _east indies_; her embarking on board the _swallow_ sloop of war, under the command of admiral _boscawen_, and the many vicissitudes she underwent during the series of her adventures, until her safe (though unexpected) return to her native country, where, after her arrival, she met with sundry humorous incidents; with many other material circumstances, the particulars of which is here set down at large; but not to swell this treatise with any thing fictitious or doubtful, i have asserted nothing but plain matter of fact as here set down. i would have my candid readers survey in imagination, the many various scenes that here display themselves with a most surprizing lustre. here is a woman, and an _english_ woman, who, notwithstanding the many dangers and vicissitudes she underwent for near the space of five years, during her travels, was never found out to be of the feminine gender. it is true many threatned discoveries were attempted by her shipmates and fellow-adventurers, which derived its influence from her not having a beard; but her ready turns of mind undeceived all those who shewed themselves overbusy in prying into this secret: this her conduct, very surprizingly preserved her virtue from becoming a sacrifice to the impetuosity of the carnal desires of both her superiors and inferiors; for can it be imagined, that in the midst of so many dangers, where there was no back-door to creep out at, if her sex had been discovered, but she must have fallen a victim to the loose, disorderly, and vitious appetites of many on board, especially those whom she was more immediately concerned with, to wit, her officers. these reflections must possess the reader with generous sentiments of this our heroine, who by her subtilty, and ready inventions, destroyed in the embrio, every thing advanced by her fellow-shipmates, that she imagined might be a means of exposing her virtue. such an adventure as this, is not to be met with in the records of either antient or modern observations, therefore, for the sake of the _british_ nation, ought to be recorded in golden characters on a statue of marble for succeeding ages, to peruse with admiration, that an _english_ woman should, _amazon_ like, not only enter herself upon the list in behalf of her country at home, but boldly and resolutely launch out into the most remote corners of the earth, upon enterprizing and dangerous adventures, the like never attempted before by any of her sex, even daring fate, as it were, to execute her most rigorous inflictions upon her; the many struglings and conflicts she encounter'd during the course of her travels, not being used to the watery element, and the many revolutions that often happen upon the surface of the deep; the many duties she was obliged to execute, in the midst of hundreds of the most unpolite part of mankind, such as tars; the many fears and suspicions she harboured least her sex should be discovered, to avoid which, she proved her own physician, in extracting the ball out of her wound, to prevent that discovery which must unavoidably have happened, had she permitted the surgeons to have performed their regular operations: these, with many more, (seemingly insurmountable difficulties) did this our _british_ heroine undergo, and overcome, by her safe arrival in her native country, as before-mentioned. when she arrived in _london_, she went to her brother in law's house, in _ship-street, wapping_; where he lived at the time when she went abroad; she no sooner entered the house, than her sister (notwithstanding her disguise) knew her, but her brother in law, mr. _gray_ being in bed, she went to his bedside, being desirous to see him, where he lay in a slumber, and embraced him, upon which he awoke, and seeing a person in a soldier's dress, coming to his bedside in such a manner and imbracing him, surprised him much, however, he was soon freed from this surprize by her discovering herself, which afforded him a great deal of satisfaction; as she was his great favourite before she went abroad, and her sudden and unexpected appearance, caused a great deal of joy, in the whole family; after refreshing herself with a part of what the house afforded, she diverted her brother and sister 'till bed-time, with some part of her adventures, which relation forced tears from their eyes. there was at this time a female lodger in mr. _gray_'s house, of whom mr. _gray_ requested, that she would admit a sister of his for a bedfellow, to which she readily agreed: but when the sister was introduced, the young woman, who was then in bed, was very much surprized to see a soldier sit down to undress himself in her bed-chamber; but mr. _gray_ and his wife discovered the secret, which, notwithstanding, she would not credit, until she had occular demonstration. this was the first, next to her brother and sister, that she discovered herself to, and ever since they have been bedfellows, which made the neighbours report (imagining her to be a man) that the young woman was married to a soldier, and this great untruth was reported for fact throughout the whole neighbourhood. sometime after this, she, in company with her sister and supposed wife, went to _westminster_, in order to see her friends, who were very much dissatisfy'd at her carrying a strange woman in company with her supposed brother, who perhaps, upon receiving his money, might decoy him into some place of bad fame, where he might chance to lose it all in an instant. this, together with some former passages, constrains me to observe how much the publick, both at home and abroad, have been deceived in this woman, she being so long in the army and navy, where there were many penetrating clear-sighted gentlemen, and ashore in foreign countries amongst men, women and children; and notwithstanding all these publick characters, her sex not discovered. this must cause admiration in every reader; but she counterfeited the man so dextrously, and does to this very day, that the most excellent judge of features, semetry or gesture, cannot discover the deceit. but that i may not suffer any of my inquisitive readers to remain in suspence concerning some particular adventures that befel her, the bare relation of which may not be altogether so satisfactory, i shall explain those which appear most paradoxical, in order not only to satisfy every reader, but also to prevent any future reflexions that might occasionally arise from such a neglect. when she first enter'd into the service at _coventry_, she marched to _carlisle_, where she was whipt for neglect of duty, being unjustly accused by serjeant _davis_, as is fully mentioned in the preceding pages. the method she used to prevent the discovery of her sex was this, according to her own declaration: her breasts were then not so big by much as they are at present, her arms being extended and fixed to the city gates, her breasts were drawn up, and consequently did not appear so large; and besides this, her breast was to the wall, and could not be discovered by any of her comrades; and when she was whipt on board, her hands being lashed to the gangway, she stood upright, and tied a handkerchief round her neck, to prevent, as it were, any lashes that she might accidentally receive there, to conceal her breasts, which were covered by the ends of the handkerchief falling over them, and thereby prevented a discovery which must unavoidably have happened, had not she thus acted. and what the consequences of such an unravell'd secret would have produced, she was at a loss to imagine, the thoughts of which perplexed her incessantly; however, she escaped being discovered at this juncture also, as well as at many more, when she imagined herself in the most imminent dangers: but all those adverse turns gave an edge to her inventions, and by that means extricated her out of the many difficulties she was involved in. this the reader may plainly perceive throughout the whole narration; and i am convinced, that no age or country, ever produced a more distinguished instance of virtue, conduct and resolution, than is to be met with in this our heroine's adventures, which is worthy to be transmitted to latest posterity; to inform succeeding ages, that such an instance of heroism was not to be found in the _british_ annals, that the like could not be met with, in the observations of any nation in the world, that a woman, whose mould is tender, delicate and unable to endure fatigues, and who is terrified at the name of dangers, should undergo so many scenes without relinquishing her resolution of keeping her sex a secret. i had forgot to mention a circumstance worthy of notice, in its proper place, which happened at _lisbon_, concerning the two sweethearts, she and _edward jefferies_ had there, as is before mentioned; which was, that when she and _jefferies_ were on board before they set sail from _lisbon_ to _england_, these two young women, of whom mention is made, came along the ship's side in a boat, and called for _james grey_, and she being informed thereof, went into the boat where they were, but after a little conversation, she found them inclined to come on board, and remain there while they lay in the river; she promised to ask leave of the captain for their reception, but a fresh and seasonable thought came into her head, which was, that if they came on board, and continued any time, they might sooner discover her than any of the men, therefore to prevent the worst, instead of pleading for their admittance, she requested of the captain, that they should not be suffered to come on board. this request was not only intended for her own preservation, but likewise to preserve the women from being debauched by the sailors, which they could not have avoided, had they came on board; by which means, both she and they escaped the threatned danger. i know the reader will be desirous to know how the ball was extracted out of her groin, and will imagine, that it was next to an impossibility it could be performed without a discovery. now to rectify the scruples of such, i shall relate this account as attested by herself; which she said was, that after she received the twelve wounds, as before mentioned, she remained all that day, and the following night in the camp, before she was carried to the hospital, and after she was brought there, and laid in a kit, she continued till next day in the greatest agony and pain, the ball still remaining in the flesh of that wound in her groin, and how to extract it she knew not, for she had not discovered to the surgeons that she had any other wound than those in her legs. this wound being so extreme painful, it almost drove her to the precipice of despair; she often thought of discovering herself, that by that means she might be freed from the unspeakable pain she endured, by having the ball taken out by one of the surgeons; but that resolution was soon banished, and she resolved to run all risques, even at the hazard of her life, rather than that her sex should be known. confirmed in this resolution, she communicated her design to a black woman, who attended upon her, and could get at the surgeons medicines, and desired her assistance; and her pain being so very great, that she was unable to endure it much longer, she intended to try an experiment upon herself, which was, to endeavour to extract the ball out of that wound; but notwithstanding she discovered her pain and resolution to this black, yet she did not let her know that she was a woman. the black readily came, and afforded her all the assistance she could, by bringing her lint and salve to dress the wound with, which she had recourse to, it being left in the wards where the patients lay; for which act of friendship she made her a present of a rupee at her departure, which is 3_s._ 4_d._ of the currency of that country, but here in _england_ it goes for no more than 2_s._ 6_d._ now the manner in which she extracted the ball was full hardy and desperate: she prob'd the wound with her finger till she came where the ball lay, and then upon feeling it, thrust in both her finger and thumb, and pulled it out. this was a very rough way of proceeding with ones own flesh; but of two evils, as she thought, this was the least, so rather chusing to have her flesh tore and mangled than her sex discovered. after this operation was performed, she applied some of the healing salves which the black had brought her, by the help of which she made a perfect cure of that dangerous wound. the reader will here observe, the invincible courage and resolution of this woman, who in the midst of so many inconveniences as she daily encounter'd, should still be able to guard herself from a discovery of her sex; but indeed it appears she acted so artfully on every emergency, as rendered any attempts of this kind abortive; for notwithstanding the wound she received in her groin was the most dangerous of all the others, yet that was the only wound she kept from the knowledge of the surgeons, by telling them, when they came to examine her, that all the wounds she had received were in her legs which they readily believed; and by that means prevented any farther search. observe here the steadiness and intrepidity wherewith she overcame all the pains and dangers which assaulted her. who would not in the midst of so much agony and pain as she felt here, broke through the strongest and most virtuous resolutions in order to obtain immediate relief? but she remained still inflexible in the midst of every affliction wherewith she was environed, no consideration could ever prevail upon her in her own mind to deviate from the resolutions she had imbibed upon her first launching out, and which, though it cost her many a painful hour, yet by her steady adherence to these principles, she obtained a conquest over near five years adverse fortune. now having satisfied the reader's doubts in regard to the methods she used to conceal her sex from the knowledge of any about her, on these particular occasions, when she was most exposed, _viz._ the twice she was whipt, and upon the dressing of her wounds, which were times i say, when danger was at the door ready to burst in, and plunder the habitation of its most valuable furniture; i shall next proceed, to shew the reader some transactions that has occur'd since she came to _london_. tho' she had not discovered her sex to any besides her brother in law, her sister, and the young woman with whom she lodged; she was very uneasy, fearing, lest a further discovery should be made, and she thereby deprived of her soldier's pay. this motive induced her to conceal herself as much as possible, till she had received her pay, (being 15 pounds) which she accordingly did on the _saturday_ after her arrival in _london_, being the 9th day of _june_, when she, with serjeant _orley_, _john hutchins_, _james moody_, _andrew grey_, and the rest of the marines that came to _london_ with her, went to the agent _john winter_, esq; in _downing-street, westminster_; where being all paid and discharged, they went to an alehouse, the fighting-cocks, next door to mr. _winter_'s house, and there she first discovered herself to her comrades. there being two suits of cloathing due to her from the regiment, she also sold them for 16_s._ being glad to get hold of all the money she could before her sex was discovered. now upon receiving her pay, and all her fellow adventures then present, she thought that was the most proper opportunity she ever could have, for disclosing her sex, seeing they could then testify the truth of all the fatigues, dangers and other incidents of her adventures, and that her sex was never discovered, which if then omitted, she might never have an opportunity of seeing them all together again, and by that means, the account of her adventures as aforesaid, might be lookt upon by the publick as fictitious: these considerations prevailed upon her to embrace the then seasonable occasion, for discovering herself, before they took a final leave; she therefore proposed to them to make merry before they parted, which was agreed to by one and all of them, as they expected never to meet altogether any more; and then she discovered herself to the whole company which caused a universal surprise amongst them all. but after they had recovered themselves from this sudden emotion, which the aforesaid surprizing information had thrown them into, they could hardly be prevailed upon to believe the truth of what she advanced, until her brother and sister undeceived them, by informing them of the whole transaction. upon which, they all with one voice sounded forth her praise, by applauding her courage as a soldier, her dexterity as a sailor, her humane deportment and sincerity as a friend, having performed many good offices towards them in times of their sickness, and upon every other opportunity. they expatiated much upon the evenness of her temper, the regularity of her conduct, and the many dangers and hardships she underwent, without ever shewing the least sign of discontent with her situation. these encomiums once over, the forementioned _moody_, who had been her bedfellow two nights, and was present at this discovery, became of a sudden so much enamoured with her, that he proposed to marry her, which she refused, upon reflecting what a bad husband she formerly had, and who had been the instrument of all her misfortunes, therefore for his sake she resolved, in the mind she was then in, never to engage with any man living. now upon the discovery of her sex, her relations, and some of her intimate friends, advised her to apply by a petition to his royal highness the duke of _cumberland_, not doubting but that his highness would make some proper provision for her, as she had received so many wounds. upon which a petition was drawn up, setting forth her adventures, and the hardships she underwent, together with the many wounds she received, which she was the bearer of herself, and coming where his royal highness then was in his landau, accompanied by colonel _napier_, she delivered her petition to his royal highness, and upon his perusing it, gave it to the colonel, desiring him to enquire into the merits. so that it is not doubted but his royal highness will make her some handsome allowance, exclusive of _chelsea_ college, to which she is entitled. now, notwithstanding this our heroine has at sundry times appeared upon a publick stage since her return to _england_, and diverted the auditors with a song or two, in order to procure a little money, wherewith to support her present necessary expences, yet the publick we hope will encourage her, if she should have a benefit play perform'd on her own account, as an encouragement for the many singular adventures, and signal deliverances from the many perils and dangers that environed her, and all in the behalf of her country: her merit i think is such as is sufficient to set her upon a level with the most celebrated ladies of antient times. she is not to be put in the lists with the fictitious and fabulous stories of a _pamella_, &c. no, her virtues have displayed their lustre in the remotest corner of the world, the once fam'd _asia_. it was here she performed such noble deeds, as will cause her name and fame to be revered to latest posterity: here is the real _pamella_ to be to found, who in the midst of thousands of the martial gentry, preserved her chastity by the most virtuous stratagems that could be devised: next behold her upon the ocean, surrounded with storms, tempests and hurricanes, every moment expecting the watery element should prove her tomb; and as an addition to her wretched situation, she was intermixed with the hardy resolute tars, who soon would have batter'd down the fort of her virtue, had they discovered that _james gray_ was mrs. _hannah snell_. see her making for fair _asia_'s ancient shore, with all the speed that canvas wings could carry her; and going aloft and discharging the duty of a skilful mariner; afterwards upon the poop and quarter deck exercising her small arms, as an able and experienced soldier: then when the enemy were attacked, firing her pontoons, brandishing her sword, receiving dangerous wounds, and spilling her precious blood: if these, together with many more circumstances, are not virtues infinitely surpassing the adventures and virtues of our romantick _pamella_, i own i am mistaken, and shall leave them to the judgment of the impartial reader. this is a real _pamella_; the other a counterfeit; this _pamella_ is real flesh and blood, the other is no more than a shadow: thefore let this our heroine, who is the subject of this history, be both admired and encouraged. i shall conclude this subject, with observing, that notwithstanding the many reflections thrown upon the fair sex on account of their weakness in point of secret, the conduct of our heroine in this particular is a plain and demonstrative proof of this truth, that a woman is not only capable of confining a secret in her bosom, but actually do so upon sundry emergences, seeing she concealed her sex in the midst of the greatest dangers and hardships; no difficulties, no pains, no terrors, nor prospect of future calamities, could prevail upon her to discover a secret, which, if once divulged, might have proved more fatal to her repose, than all the difficulties she had undergone during the past course of her adventures. the adventures of this female soldier, as the like is not to be parallelled in history, should never be forgot by our _british_ ladies, but whenever satirized by any of the masculine gentry, they should always have this repartee ready, _remember_ hannah snell. i shall now conclude with informing the publick, that she still continues to wear her regimentals; but how she intends to dispose of herself, or when, if ever, to change her dress, is more than what she at present seems certain of. _finis._ as this treatise was done in a hurry from _hannah snell_'s own mouth, and directly committed to the press, occasioned by the impatience of the town to have it published, it is not doubted but that such part of it as appears somewhat incorrect, will be candidly overlook'd, that, being made up in the veracity and fulness of her surprising adventures; the like not to be met with in the records of time. the marvelous land of oz being an account of the further adventures of the scarecrow and tin woodman and also the strange experiences of the highly magnified woggle-bug, jack pumpkinhead, the animated saw-horse and the gump; the story being a sequel to the wizard of oz by l. frank baum author of father goose-his book; the wizard of oz; the magical monarch of mo; the enchanted isle of yew; the life and adventures of santa claus; dot and tot of merryland etc. etc. pictured by john r. neil books of wonder william morrow & company, inc. new york copyright 1904 by l. frank baum all rights reserved published, july, 1904 author's note after the publication of "the wonderful wizard of oz" i began to receive letters from children, telling me of their pleasure in reading the story and asking me to "write something more" about the scarecrow and the tin woodman. at first i considered these little letters, frank and earnest though they were, in the light of pretty compliments; but the letters continued to come during succeeding months, and even years. finally i promised one little girl, who made a long journey to see me and prefer her request,--and she is a "dorothy," by the way--that when a thousand little girls had written me a thousand little letters asking for the scarecrow and the tin woodman i would write the book, either little dorothy was a fairy in disguise, and waved her magic wand, or the success of the stage production of "the wizard of oz" made new friends for the story, for the thousand letters reached their destination long since--and many more followed them. and now, although pleading guilty to long delay, i have kept my promise in this book. l. frank baum. chicago, june, 1904 to those excellent good fellows and comedians david c. montgomery and frank a. stone whose clever personations of the tin woodman and the scarecrow have delighted thousands of children throughout the land, this book is gratefully dedicated by the author list of chapters page tip manufactures pumpkinhead 7 the marvelous powder of life 15 the flight of the fugitives 29 tip makes an experiment in magic 39 the awakening of the saw-horse 47 jack pumpkinhead's ride to the emerald city 59 his majesty the scarecrow 71 gen. jinjur's army of revolt 83 the scarecrow plans an escape 97 the journey to the tin woodman 109 a nickel-plated emperor 121 mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. 135 a highly magnified history 147 old mombi indulges in witchcraft 159 the prisoners of the queen 169 the scarecrow takes time to think 181 the astonishing flight of the gump 191 in the jackdaw's nest 201 dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills 219 the scarecrow appeals to glinda the good 231 the tin-woodman plucks a rose 247 the transformation of old mombi 257 princess ozma of oz 265 the riches of content 279 7 tip manufactures a pumpkinhead in the country of the gillikins, which is at the north of the land of oz, lived a youth called tip. there was more to his name than that, for old mombi often declared that his whole name was tippetarius; but no one was expected to say such a long word when "tip" would do just as well. this boy remembered nothing of his parents, for he had been brought when quite young to be reared by the old woman known as mombi, whose reputation, i am sorry to say, was none of the best. for the gillikin people had reason to suspect her of indulging in magical arts, and therefore hesitated to associate with her. mombi was not exactly a witch, because the good witch who ruled that part of the land of oz 8 line-art drawing had forbidden any other witch to exist in her dominions. so tip's guardian, however much she might aspire to working magic, realized it was unlawful to be more than a sorceress, or at most a wizardess. tip was made to carry wood from the forest, that the old woman might boil her pot. he also worked in the corn-fields, hoeing and husking; and he fed the pigs and milked the four-horned cow that was mombi's especial pride. but you must not suppose he worked all the time, for he felt that would be bad for him. when sent to the forest tip often climbed trees for birds' eggs or amused himself chasing the fleet white rabbits or fishing in the brooks with bent pins. then he would hastily gather his armful of wood and carry it home. and when he was supposed to be working in the corn-fields, and the tall stalks hid him from mombi's view, tip would often dig in the gopher holes, or if the mood seized him-9 lie upon his back between the rows of corn and take a nap. so, by taking care not to exhaust his strength, he grew as strong and rugged as a boy may be. mombi's curious magic often frightened her neighbors, and they treated her shyly, yet respectfully, because of her weird powers. but tip frankly hated her, and took no pains to hide his feelings. indeed, he sometimes showed less respect for the old woman than he should have done, considering she was his guardian. there were pumpkins in mombi's corn-fields, lying golden red among the rows of green stalks; and these had been planted and carefully tended that the four-horned cow might eat of them in the winter time. but one day, after the corn had all been cut and stacked, and tip was carrying the pumpkins to the stable, he took a notion to make a "jack lantern" and try to give the old woman a fright with it. so he selected a fine, big pumpkin--one with a lustrous, orange-red color--and began carving it. with the point of his knife he made two round eyes, a three-cornered nose, and line-art drawing 10 a mouth shaped like a new moon. the face, when completed, could not have been considered strictly beautiful; but it wore a smile so big and broad, and was so jolly in expression, that even tip laughed as he looked admiringly at his work. the child had no playmates, so he did not know that boys often dig out the inside of a "pumpkin-jack," and in the space thus made put a lighted candle to render the face more startling; but he conceived an idea of his own that promised to be quite as effective. he decided to manufacture the form of a man, who would wear this pumpkin head, and to stand it in a place where old mombi would meet it face to face. "and then," said tip to himself, with a laugh, "she'll squeal louder than the brown pig does when i pull her tail, and shiver with fright worse than i did last year when i had the ague!" he had plenty of time to accomplish this task, for mombi had gone to a village--to buy groceries, she said--and it was a journey of at least two days. so he took his axe to the forest, and selected some stout, straight saplings, which he cut down and trimmed of all their twigs and leaves. from these he would make the arms, and legs, and feet of his man. for the body he stripped a sheet of thick 11 bark from around a big tree, and with much labor fashioned it into a cylinder of about the right size, pinning the edges together with wooden pegs. then, whistling happily as he worked, he carefully jointed the limbs and fastened them to the body with pegs whittled into shape with his knife. by the time this feat had been accomplished it began to grow dark, and tip remembered he must milk the cow and feed the pigs. so he picked up his wooden man and carried it back to the house with him. during the evening, by the light of the fire in the kitchen, tip carefully rounded all the edges of the joints and smoothed the rough places in a neat and workmanlike manner. then he stood the figure up against the wall and admired it. it seemed remarkably tall, even for a full-grown man; but that was a good point in a small boy's eyes, and tip did not object at all to the size of his creation. next morning, when he looked at his work again, tip saw he had forgotten to give the dummy a neck, by means of which he might fasten the pumpkinhead to the body. so he went again to the forest, which was not far away, and chopped from a tree several pieces of wood with which to complete his work. when he returned he fastened a cross-piece 12 to the upper end of the body, making a hole through the center to hold upright the neck. the bit of wood which formed this neck was also sharpened at the upper end, and when all was ready tip put on the pumpkin head, pressing it well down onto the neck, and found that it fitted very well. the head could be turned to one side or the other, as he pleased, and the hinges of the arms and legs allowed him to place the dummy in any position he desired. "now, that," declared tip, proudly, "is really a very fine man, and it ought to frighten several screeches out of old mombi! but it would be much more lifelike if it were properly dressed." to find clothing seemed no easy task; but tip boldly ransacked the great chest in which mombi kept all her keepsakes and treasures, and at the very bottom he discovered some purple trousers, a red shirt and a pink vest which was dotted with white spots. these he carried away to his man and succeeded, although the garments did not fit very well, in dressing the creature in a jaunty fashion. some knit stockings belonging to mombi and a much worn pair of his own shoes completed the man's apparel, and tip was so delighted that he danced up and down and laughed aloud in boyish ecstacy. 13 "i must give him a name!" he cried. "so good a man as this must surely have a name. i believe," he added, after a moment's thought, "i will name the fellow 'jack pumpkinhead!'" line-art drawing 14 full page line-art drawing. 15 the marvelous powder of life after considering the matter carefully, tip decided that the best place to locate jack would be at the bend in the road, a little way from the house. so he started to carry his man there, but found him heavy and rather awkward to handle. after dragging the creature a short distance tip stood him on his feet, and by first bending the joints of one leg, and then those of the other, at the same time pushing from behind, the boy managed to induce jack to walk to the bend in the road. it was not accomplished without a few tumbles, and tip really worked harder than he ever had in the fields or 16 forest; but a love of mischief urged him on, and it pleased him to test the cleverness of his workmanship. "jack's all right, and works fine!" he said to himself, panting with the unusual exertion. but just then he discovered the man's left arm had fallen off in the journey so he went back to find it, and afterward, by whittling a new and stouter pin for the shoulder-joint, he repaired the injury so successfully that the arm was stronger than before. tip also noticed that jack's pumpkin head had twisted around until it faced his back; but this was easily remedied. when, at last, the man was set up facing the turn in the path where old mombi was to appear, he looked natural enough to be a fair imitation of a gillikin farmer,--and unnatural enough to startle anyone that came on him unawares. as it was yet too early in the day to expect the old woman to return home, tip went down into the valley below the farm-house and began to gather nuts from the trees that grew there. however, old mombi returned earlier than usual. she had met a crooked wizard who resided in a lonely cave in the mountains, and had traded several important secrets of magic with him. hav17 ing in this way secured three new recipes, four magical powders and a selection of herbs of wonderful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast as she could, in order to test her new sorceries. so intent was mombi on the treasures she had gained that when she turned the bend in the road and caught a glimpse of the man, she merely nodded and said: "good evening, sir." but, a moment after, noting that the person did not move or reply, she cast a shrewd glance into his face and discovered his pumpkin head elaborately carved by tip's jack-knife. "heh!" ejaculated mombi, giving a sort of grunt; "that rascally boy has been playing tricks again! very good! ve--ry good! i'll beat him blackand-blue for trying to scare me in this fashion!" angrily she raised her stick to smash in the grinning pumpkin head of the dummy; but a sudden thought made her pause, the uplifted stick left motionless in the air. "why, here is a good chance to try my new powder!" said she, eagerly. "and then i can tell whether that crooked wizard has fairly traded secrets, or whether he has fooled me as wickedly as i fooled him." 18 so she set down her basket and began fumbling in it for one of the precious powders she had obtained. while mombi was thus occupied tip strolled back, with his pockets full of nuts, and discovered the old woman standing beside his man and apparently not the least bit frightened by it. at first he was generally disappointed; but the next moment he became curious to know what mombi was going to do. so he hid behind a hedge, where he could see without being seen, and prepared to watch. after some search the woman drew from her basket an old pepper-box, upon the faded label of which the wizard had written with a lead-pencil: "powder of life." "ah--here it is!" she cried, joyfully. "and now let us see if it is potent. the stingy wizard didn't give me much of it, but i guess there's enough for two or three doses." tip was much surprised when he overheard this speech. then he saw old mombi raise her arm and sprinkle the powder from the box over the pumpkin head of his man jack. she did this in the same way one would pepper a baked potato, and the powder sifted down from jack's head and scattered 19 full page line-art drawing. "old mombi danced around him" 20 over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple trousers tip had dressed him in, and a portion even fell upon the patched and worn shoes. then, putting the pepper-box back into the basket, mombi lifted her left hand, with its little finger pointed upward, and said: "weaugh!" then she lifted her right hand, with the thumb pointed upward, and said: "teaugh!" then she lifted both hands, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried: "peaugh!" jack pumpkinhead stepped back a pace, at this, and said in a reproachful voice: "don't yell like that! do you think i'm deaf?" old mombi danced around him, frantic with delight. "he lives!" she screamed: "he lives! he lives!" then she threw her stick into the air and caught it as it came down; and she hugged herself with both arms, and tried to do a step of a jig; and all the time she repeated, rapturously: "he lives!--he lives!--he lives!" now you may well suppose that tip observed all this with amazement. 21 at first he was so frightened and horrified that he wanted to run away, but his legs trembled and shook so badly that he couldn't. then it struck him as a very funny thing for jack to come to life, especially as the expression on his pumpkin face was so droll and comical it excited laughter on the instant. so, recovering from his first fear, tip began to laugh; and the merry peals reached old mombi's ears and made her hobble quickly to the hedge, where she seized tip's collar and dragged him back to where she had left her basket and the pumpkinheaded man. "you naughty, sneaking, wicked boy!" she exclaimed, furiously: "i'll teach you to spy out my secrets and to make fun of me!" "i wasn't making fun of you," protested tip. "i was laughing at old pumpkinhead! look at him! isn't he a picture, though?" "i hope you are not reflecting on my personal appearance," said jack; and it was so funny to hear his grave voice, while his face continued to wear its jolly smile, that tip again burst into a peal of laughter. even mombi was not without a curious interest in the man her magic had brought to life; for, after staring at him intently, she presently asked: 22 full page line-art drawing. old mombi puts jack in the stable 23 "what do you know?" "well, that is hard to tell," replied jack. "for although i feel that i know a tremendous lot, i am not yet aware how much there is in the world to find out about. it will take me a little time to discover whether i am very wise or very foolish." "to be sure," said mombi, thoughtfully. "but what are you going to do with him, now he is alive?" asked tip, wondering. "i must think it over," answered mombi. "but we must get home at once, for it is growing dark. help the pumpkinhead to walk." "never mind me," said jack; "i can walk as well as you can. haven't i got legs and feet, and aren't they jointed?" "are they?" asked the woman, turning to tip. "of course they are; i made 'em myself," returned the boy, with pride. so they started for the house, but when they reached the farm yard old mombi led the pumpkin man to the cow stable and shut him up in an empty stall, fastening the door securely on the outside. "i've got to attend to you, first," she said, nodding her head at tip. hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he 24 knew mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to do any evil thing. they entered the house. it was a round, domeshaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses in the land of oz. mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg. tip obeyed quickly, for he was afraid of her. after the candle had been lighted mombi ordered him to build a fire in the hearth, and while tip was thus engaged the old woman ate her supper. when the flames began to crackle the boy came to her and asked a share of the bread and cheese; but mombi refused him. "i'm hungry!" said tip, in a sulky tone. "you won't be hungry long," replied mombi, with a grim look. the boy didn't like this speech, for it sounded like a threat; but he happened to remember he had nuts in his pocket, so he cracked some of those and ate them while the woman rose, shook the crumbs from her apron, and hung above the fire a small black kettle. then she measured out equal parts of milk and vinegar and poured them into the kettle. next she 25 produced several packets of herbs and powders and began adding a portion of each to the contents of the kettle. occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a yellow paper the recipe of the mess she was concocting. as tip watched her his uneasiness increased. "what is that for?" he asked. "for you," returned mombi, briefly. tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble. then he would glance at the stern and wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were any place but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by the candle upon the wall were enough to give one the horrors. so an hour passed away, during which the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the pot and the hissing of the flames. finally, tip spoke again. "have i got to drink that stuff?" he asked, nodding toward the pot. "yes," said mombi. "what'll it do to me?" asked tip. "if it's properly made," replied mombi, "it will change or transform you into a marble statue." tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. 26 "i don't want to be a marble statue!" he protested. "that doesn't matter i want you to be one," said the old woman, looking at him severely. "what use'll i be then?" asked tip. "there won't be any one to work for you." "i'll make the pumpkinhead work for me," said mombi. again tip groaned. "why don't you change me into a goat, or a chicken?" he asked, anxiously. "you can't do anything with a marble statue." "oh, yes, i can," returned mombi. "i'm going to plant a flower garden, next spring, and i'll put you in the middle of it, for an ornament. i wonder i haven't thought of that before; you've been a bother to me for years." at this terrible speech tip felt the beads of perspiration starting all over his body, but he sat still and shivered and looked anxiously at the kettle. "perhaps it won't work," he mutttered, in a voice that sounded weak and discouraged. "oh, i think it will," answered mombi, cheerfully. "i seldom make a mistake." again there was a period of silence a silence so long and gloomy that when mombi finally lifted the kettle from the fire it was close to midnight. 27 full page line-art drawing. "i don't want to be a marble statue." 28 "you cannot drink it until it has become quite cold," announced the old witch for in spite of the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft. "we must both go to bed now, and at daybreak i will call you and at once complete your transformation into a marble statue." with this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with her, and tip heard her close and lock the door. the boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire. line-art drawing 29 the flight of the fugitives tip reflected. "it's a hard thing, to be a marble statue," he thought, rebelliously, "and i'm not going to stand it. for years i've been a bother to her, she says; so she's going to get rid of me. well, there's an easier way than to become a statue. no boy could have any fun forever standing in the middle of a flower garden! i'll run away, that's what i'll do--and i may as well go before she makes me drink that nasty stuff in the kettle." he waited until the snores of the old witch announced she was fast asleep, and then he arose softly and went to the cupboard to find something to eat. 30 "no use starting on a journey without food," he decided, searching upon the narrow shelves. he found some crusts of bread; but he had to look into mombi's basket to find the cheese she had brought from the village. while turning over the contents of the basket he came upon the pepper-box which contained the "powder of life." "i may as well take this with me," he thought, "or mombi'll be using it to make more mischief with." so he put the box in his pocket, together with the bread and cheese. then he cautiously left the house and latched the door behind him. outside both moon and stars shone brightly, and the night seemed peaceful and inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen. "i'll be glad to get away," said tip, softly; "for i never did like that old woman. i wonder how i ever came to live with her." he was walking slowly toward the road when a thought made him pause. "i don't like to leave jack pumpkinhead to the tender mercies of old mombi," he muttered. "and jack belongs to me, for i made him even if the old witch did bring him to life." he retraced his steps to the cow-stable and opened the door of the stall where the pumpkin31 full page line-art drawing. "tip led him along the path." 32 headed man had been left. jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and by the moonlight tip could see he was smiling just as jovially as ever. "come on!" said the boy, beckoning. "where to?" asked jack. "you'll know as soon as i do," answered tip, smiling sympathetically into the pumpkin face. "all we've got to do now is to tramp." "very well," returned jack, and walked awkwardly out of the stable and into the moonlight. tip turned toward the road and the man followed him. jack walked with a sort of limp, and occasionally one of the joints of his legs would turn backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing him to tumble. but the pumpkinhead was quick to notice this, and began to take more pains to step carefully; so that he met with few accidents. tip led him along the path without stopping an instant. they could not go very fast, but they walked steadily; and by the time the moon sank away and the sun peeped over the hills they had travelled so great a distance that the boy had no reason to fear pursuit from the old witch. moreover, he had turned first into one path, and then into another, so that should anyone follow them it 33 would prove very difficult to guess which way they had gone, or where to seek them. fairly satisfied that he had escaped--for a time, at least--being turned into a marble statue, the boy stopped his companion and seated himself upon a rock by the roadside. "let's have some breakfast," he said. jack pumpkinhead watched tip curiously, but refused to join in the repast. "i don't seem to be made the same way you are," he said. "i know you are not," returned tip; "for i made you." "oh! did you?" asked jack. "certainly. and put you together. and carved your eyes and nose and ears and line-art drawing along the right side of the page 34 mouth," said tip proudly. "and dressed you." jack looked at his body and limbs critically. "it strikes me you made a very good job of it," he remarked. "just so-so," replied tip, modestly; for he began to see certain defects in the construction of his man. "if i'd known we were going to travel together i might have been a little more particular." "why, then," said the pumpkinhead, in a tone that expressed surprise, "you must be my creator my parent my father!" "or your inventor," replied the boy with a laugh. "yes, my son; i really believe i am!" "then i owe you obedience," continued the man, "and you owe me--support." "that's it, exactly", declared tip, jumping up. "so let us be off." "where are we going?" asked jack, when they had resumed their journey. "i'm not exactly sure," said the boy; "but i believe we are headed south, and that will bring us, sooner or later, to the emerald city." "what city is that?" enquired the pumpkinhead. "why, it's the center of the land of oz, and the biggest town in all the country. i've never been there, myself, but i've heard all about its 35 history. it was built by a mighty and wonderful wizard named oz, and everything there is of a green color--just as everything in this country of the gillikins is of a purple color." "is everything here purple?" asked jack. "of course it is. can't you see?" returned the boy. "i believe i must be color-blind," said the pumpkinhead, after staring about him. "well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple, and the houses and fences are purple," explained tip. "even the mud in the roads is purple. but in the emerald city everything is green that is purple here. and in the country of the munchkins, over at the east, everything is blue; and in the south country of the quadlings everything is red; and in the west country of the winkies, where the tin woodman rules, everything is yellow." "oh!" said jack. then, after a pause, he asked: "did you say a tin woodman rules the winkies?" "yes; he was one of those who helped dorothy to destroy the wicked witch of the west, and the winkies were so grateful that they invited him to become their ruler,--just as the people of the emerald city invited the scarecrow to rule them." "dear me!" said jack. "i'm getting confused with all this history. who is the scarecrow?" 36 "another friend of dorothy's," replied tip. "and who is dorothy?" "she was a girl that came here from kansas, a place in the big, outside world. she got blown to the land of oz by a cyclone, and while she was here the scarecrow and the tin woodman accompanied her on her travels." "and where is she now?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "glinda the good, who rules the quadlings, sent her home again," said the boy. "oh. and what became of the scarecrow?" "i told you. he rules the emerald city," answered tip. "i thought you said it was ruled by a wonderful wizard," objected jack, seeming more and more confused. "well, so i did. now, pay attention, and i'll explain it," said tip, speaking slowly and looking the smiling pumpkinhead squarely in the eye. "dorothy went to the emerald city to ask the wizard to send her back to kansas; and the scarecrow and the tin woodman went with her. but the wizard couldn't send her back, because he wasn't so much of a wizard as he might have been. and then they got angry at the wizard, and threatened 37 to expose him; so the wizard made a big balloon and escaped in it, and no one has ever seen him since." "now, that is very interesting history," said jack, well pleased; "and i understand it perfectly all but the explanation." "i'm glad you do," responded tip. "after the wizard was gone, the people of the emerald city made his majesty, the scarecrow, their king; "and i have heard that he became a very popular ruler." "are we going to see this queer king?" asked jack, with interest. "i think we may as well," replied the boy; "unless you have something better to do." "oh, no, dear father," said the pumpkinhead. "i am quite willing to go wherever you please." line-art drawing 38 full page line-art drawing. 39 tip makes an experiment in magic the boy, small and rather delicate in appearance seemed somewhat embarrassed at being called "father" by the tall, awkward, pumpkinheaded man, but to deny the relationship would involve another long and tedious explanation; so he changed the subject by asking, abruptly: "are you tired?" "of course not!" replied the other. "but," he continued, after a pause, "it is quite certain i shall wear out my wooden joints if i keep on walking." tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was true. he began to regret that he had not constructed the wooden limbs more carefully and substantially. yet how could he ever have guessed 40 that the man he had made merely to scare old mombi with would be brought to life by means of a magical powder contained in an old pepper-box? so he ceased to reproach himself, and began to think how he might yet remedy the deficiencies of jack's weak joints. while thus engaged they came to the edge of a wood, and the boy sat down to rest upon an old sawhorse that some woodcutter had left there. "why don't you sit down?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "won't it strain my joints?" inquired the other. "of course not. it'll rest them," declared the boy. so jack tried to sit down; but as soon as he bent his joints farther than usual they gave way altogether, and he came clattering to the ground with such a crash that tip feared he was entirely ruined. line-art drawing along right side of this page 41 he rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet, straightened his arms and legs, and felt of his head to see if by chance it had become cracked. but jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all, and tip said to him: "i guess you'd better remain standing, hereafter. it seems the safest way." "very well, dear father." just as you say, replied the smiling jack, who had been in no wise confused by his tumble. tip sat down again. presently the pumpkinhead asked: "what is that thing you are sitting on?" "oh, this is a horse," replied the boy, carelessly. "what is a horse?" demanded jack. "a horse? why, there are two kinds of horses," returned tip, slightly puzzled how to explain. "one kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and a head and a tail. and people ride upon its back." "i understand," said jack, cheerfully "that's the kind of horse you are now sitting on." "no, it isn't," answered tip, promptly. "why not? that one has four legs, and a head, and a tail." tip looked at the saw-horse more carefully, and found that the pumpkinhead was right. the body 42 had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a branch had been left sticking up at one end that looked very much like a tail. in the other end were two big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been chopped away that might easily be mistaken for the horse's mouth. as for the legs, they were four straight limbs cut from trees and stuck fast into the body, being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would stand firmly when a log was laid across it to be sawed. "this thing resembles a real horse more than i imagined," said tip, trying to explain. "but a real horse is alive, and trots and prances and eats oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse, made of wood, and used to saw logs upon." "if it were alive, wouldn't it trot, and prance, and eat oats?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "it would trot and prance, perhaps; but it wouldn't eat oats," replied the boy, laughing at the idea." and of course it can't ever be alive, because it is made of wood." "so am i," answered the man. tip looked at him in surprise. "why, so you are!" he exclaimed. "and the magic powder that brought you to life is here in my pocket." 43 full page line-art drawing. the magical powder of life 44 he brought out the pepper box, and eyed it curiously. "i wonder," said he, musingly, "if it would bring the saw-horse to life." "if it would," returned jack, calmly for nothing seemed to surprise him" i could ride on its back, and that would save my joints from wearing out." "i'll try it!" cried the boy, jumping up. "but i wonder if i can remember the words old mombi said, and the way she held her hands up." he thought it over for a minute, and as he had watched carefully from the hedge every motion of the old witch, and listened to her words, he believed he could repeat exactly what she had said and done. so he began by sprinkling some of the magic powder of life from the pepperbox upon the body of the saw-horse. then he lifted his left hand, with the little finger pointing upward, and said: "weaugh!" "what does that mean, dear father?" asked jack, curiously. "i don't know," answered tip. then he lifted his right hand, with the thumb pointing upward and said: "teaugh!" "what's that, dear father?" inquired jack. 45 "it means you must keep quiet!" replied the boy, provoked at being interrupted at so important a moment. "how fast i am learning!" remarked the pumpkinhead, with his eternal smile. tip now lifted both hands above his head, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried in a loud voice: "peaugh!" immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its legs, yawned with its chopped-out mouth, and shook a few grains of the powder off its back. the rest of the powder seemed to have vanished into the body of the horse. "good!" called jack, while the boy looked on in astonishment. "you are a very clever sorcerer, dear father!" line-art drawing 46 full page line-art drawing. 47 the awakening of the saw-horse the saw-horse, finding himself alive, seemed even more astonished than tip. he rolled his knotty eyes from side to side, taking a first wondering view of the world in which he had now so important an existence. then he tried to look at himself; but he had, indeed, no neck to turn; so that in the endeavor to see his body he kept circling around and around, without catching even a glimpse of it. his legs were stiff and awkward, for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against jack pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined the roadside. 48 tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of the saw-horse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out: "whoa! whoa, there!" the saw-horse paid no attention whatever to this command, and the next instant brought one of his wooden legs down upon tip's foot so forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer distance, from where he again yelled: "whoa! whoa, i say!" jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position, and he looked at the saw-horse with much interest. "i don't believe the animal can hear you," he remarked. "i shout loud enough, don't i?" answered tip, angrily. "yes; but the horse has no ears," said the smiling pumpkinhead. "sure enough!" exclaimed tip, noting the fact for the first time. "how, then, am i going to stop him?" but at that instant the saw-horse stopped himself, having concluded it was impossible to see his own body. he saw tip, however, and came close to the boy to observe him more fully. 49 it was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs on its right side together, and those on its left side together, as a pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle. tip patted it upon the head, and said "good boy! good boy!" in a coaxing tone; and the saw-horse pranced away to examine with its bulging eyes the form of jack pumpkinhead. "i must find a halter for him," said tip; and having made a search in his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. unwinding this, he approached the saw-horse and tied the cord around its neck, afterward fastening the other end to a large tree. the saw-horse, not understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no attempt to run away. "he's stronger than i thought," said the boy, "and rather obstinate, too." "why don't you make him some ears?" asked jack. "then you can tell him what to do." "that's a splendid idea!" said tip. "how did you happen to think of it?" "why, i didn't think of it," answered the pumpkinhead; "i didn't need to, for it's the simplest and easiest thing to do." 50 so tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a small tree. "i mustn't make them too big," he said, as he whittled, "or our horse would become a donkey." "how is that?" inquired jack, from the roadside. "why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears than a horse," explained tip. "then, if my ears were longer, would i be a horse?" asked jack. "my friend," said tip, gravely, "you'll never be anything but a pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are." "oh," returned jack, nodding; "i think i understand." "if you do, you're a wonder," remarked the boy "but there's no harm in thinking you understand. i guess these ears are ready now. will you hold the horse while i stick them on?" "certainly, if you'll help me up," said jack. so tip raised him to his feet, and the pumpkinhead went to the horse and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and inserted the ears. "they make him look very handsome," said jack, admiringly. 51 but those words, spoken close to the saw-horse, and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound forward and tumbled tip on one side and jack on the other. then he continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own foot-steps. "whoa!" shouted tip, picking himself up; "whoa! you idiot whoa!" the sawhorse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its four legs in the air. tip ran up to it. "you're a nice sort of a horse, i must say!" he exclaimed. "why didn't you stop when i yelled 'whoa?'" "does 'whoa' mean to stop?" asked the saw-horse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy. "of course it does," answered tip. "and a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn't it?" continued the horse. "to be sure; unless you step over it," said tip. "what a strange place this is," the creature exclaimed, as if amazed. "what am i doing here, anyway?" 52 full page line-art drawing. "do keep those legs still." 53 "why, i've brought you to life," answered the boy "but it won't hurt you any, if you mind me and do as i tell you." "then i will do as you tell me," replied the saw-horse, humbly. "but what happened to me, a moment ago? i don't seem to be just right, someway." "you're upside down," explained tip. "but just keep those legs still a minute and i'll set you right side up again." "how many sides have i?" asked the creature, wonderingly. "several," said tip, briefly. "but do keep those legs still." the saw-horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that tip, after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright. "ah, i seem all right now," said the queer animal, with a sigh. "one of your ears is broken," tip announced, after a careful examination. "i'll have to make a new one." then he led the saw-horse back to where jack was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after assisting the pumpkinhead to stand upright tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse's head. 54 "now," said he, addressing his steed, "pay attention to what i'm going to tell you. 'whoa!' means to stop; 'get-up!' means to walk forward; 'trot!' means to go as fast as you can. understand?" "i believe i do," returned the horse. "very good. we are all going on a journey to the emerald city, to see his majesty, the scarecrow; and jack pumpkinhead is going to ride on your back, so he won't wear out his joints." "i don't mind," said the saw-horse. "anything that suits you suits me." then tip assisted jack to get upon the horse. "hold on tight," he cautioned, "or you may fall off and crack your pumpkin head." "that would be horrible!" said jack, with a shudder. "what shall i hold on to?" "why, hold on to his ears," replied tip, after a moment's hesitation. "don't do that!" remonstrated the saw-horse; "for then i can't hear." that seemed reasonable, so tip tried to think of something else. "i'll fix it!" said he, at length. he went into the wood and cut a short length of limb from a young, stout tree. one end of this he sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of 55 full page line-art drawing. "does it hurt?" asked the boy 56 the saw-horse, just behind its head. next he brought a piece of rock from the road and hammered the post firmly into the animal's back. "stop! stop!" shouted the horse; "you're jarring me terribly." "does it hurt?" asked the boy. "not exactly hurt," answered the animal; "but it makes me quite nervous to be jarred." "well, it's all over now" said tip, encouragingly. "now, jack, be sure to hold fast to this post and then you can't fall off and get smashed." so jack held on tight, and tip said to the horse: "get up." the obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from the ground. tip walked beside the saw-horse, quite content with this addition to their party. presently he began to whistle. "what does that sound mean?" asked the horse. "don't pay any attention to it," said tip. "i'm just whistling, and that only means i'm pretty well satisfied." "i'd whistle myself, if i could push my lips together," remarked jack. "i fear, dear father, that in some respects i am sadly lacking." 57 after journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad roadway, paved with yellow brick. by the side of the road tip noticed a sign-post that read: "nine miles to the emerald city." but it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. he led the sawhorse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the pumpkinhead to alight. "i think i'll lay you upon the ground, overnight," said the boy. "you will be safer that way." "how about me?" asked the saw-horse. "it won't hurt you to stand," replied tip; "and, as you can't sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us." then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep. line-art drawing 58 full page line-art drawing. 59 jack pumpkinhead's ride to the emerald city at daybreak tip was awakened by the pumpkinhead. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his bread and cheese. having thus prepared for a new day the boy said: "let us start at once. nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to reach the emerald city by noon if no accidents happen." so the pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the saw-horse and the journey was resumed. tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the great city where the scarecrow ruled. 60 the little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. tip was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream. when the man reached the bank tip asked: "will you row us to the other side?" "yes, if you have money," returned the ferryman, whose face looked cross and disagreeable. "but i have no money," said tip. "none at all?" inquired the man. "none at all," answered the boy. "then i'll not break my back rowing you over," said the ferryman, decidedly. "what a nice man!" remarked the pumpkinhead, smilingly. the ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. tip was trying to think, for it was a great disappointment to him to find his journey so suddenly brought to an end. "i must certainly get to the emerald city," he said to the boatman; "but how can i cross the river if you do not take me?" the man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh. "that wooden horse will float," said he; "and 61 line-art drawing you can ride him across. as for the pumpkinheaded loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim it won't matter greatly which." "don't worry about me," said jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; "i'm sure i ought to float beautifully." tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the saw-horse, who did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. so the boy led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. jack also waded in up to his knees and 62 grasped the tail of the horse so that he might keep his pumpkin head above the water. "now," said tip, instructing the saw-horse, "if you wiggle your legs you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the other side." the saw-horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted as oars and moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. so successful was the trip that presently they were climbing, wet and dripping, up the grassy bank. tip's trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly soaked; but the saw-horse had floated so perfectly that from his knees up the boy was entirely dry. as for the pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gorgeous clothing dripped water. "the sun will soon dry us," said tip "and, anyhow, we are now safely across, in spite of the ferryman, and can continue our journey. "i didn't mind swimming, at all," remarked the horse. "nor did i," added jack. they soon regained the road of yellow brick, which proved to be a continuation of the road they had left on the other side, and then tip once more mounted the pumpkinhead upon the back of the saw-horse. 63 "if you ride fast," said he, "the wind will help to dry your clothing. i will hold on to the horse's tail and run after you. in this way we all will become dry in a very short time." "then the horse must step lively," said jack. "i'll do my best," returned the saw-horse, cheerfully. tip grasped the end of the branch that served as tail to the saw-horse, and called loudly: "get-up!" the horse started at a good pace, and tip followed behind. then he decided they could go faster, so he shouted: "trot!" now, the saw-horse remembered that this word was the command to go as fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace, line-art drawing 64 and tip had hard work--running faster than he ever had before in his life--to keep his feet. soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call "whoa!" to the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. then the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a dead branch, suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in the dust of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance. by the time tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust from his throat so he could say "whoa!" there was no further need of saying it, for the horse was long since out of sight. so he did the only sensible thing he could do. he sat down and took a good rest, and afterward began walking along the road. "some time i will surely overtake them," he reflected; "for the road will end at the gates of the emerald city, and they can go no further than that." meantime jack was holding fast to the post and the saw-horse was tearing along the road like a racer. neither of them knew tip was left behind, for the pumpkinhead did not look around and the saw-horse couldn't. as he rode, jack noticed that the grass and trees 65 had become a bright emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the emerald city even before the tall spires and domes came into sight. at length a high wall of green stone, studded thick with emeralds, loomed up before them; and fearing the saw-horse would not know enough to stop and so might smash them both against this wall, jack ventured to cry "whoa!" as loud as he could. so suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post jack would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined. "that was a fast ride, dear father!" he exclaimed; and then, hearing no reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that tip was not there. this apparent desertion puzzled the pumpkinhead, and made him uneasy. and while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what he ought to do next under such trying circumstances, the gateway in the green wall opened and a man came out. this man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed remarkably goodnatured. he was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green hat upon his head and green spectacles over his eyes. bowing before the pumpkinhead he said: "i am the guardian of the gates of the emerald 66 city. may i inquire who you are, and what is your business?" "my name is jack pumpkinhead," returned the other, smilingly; "but as to my business, i haven't the least idea in the world what it is." the guardian of the gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if dissatisfied with the reply. "what are you, a man or a pumpkin?" he asked, politely. "both, if you please," answered jack. "and this wooden horse--is it alive?" questioned the guardian. the horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at jack. then it gave a prance and brought one leg down on the guardian's toes. "ouch!" cried the man; "i'm sorry i asked that question. but the answer is most convincing. have you any errand, sir, in the emerald city?" "it seems to me that i have," replied the pumpkinhead, seriously; "but i cannot think what it is. my father knows all about it, but he is not here." "this is a strange affair very strange!" declared the guardian. "but you seem harmless. folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean mischief." "as for that," said jack, "i cannot help my smile, for it is carved on my face with a jack-knife." 67 "well, come with me into my room," resumed the guardian, "and i will see what can be done for you." so jack rode the saw-horse through the gateway into a little room built into the wall. the guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very tall soldier--clothed in a green uniform--entered from the opposite door. this soldier carried a long green gun over his shoulder and had lovely green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. the guardian at once addressed him, saying: "here is a strange gentleman who doesn't know why he has come to the emerald city, or what he wants. tell me, what shall we do with him?" the soldier with the green whiskers looked at jack with much care and curiosity. finally he shook his head so positively that little waves rippled down his whiskers, and then he said: "i must take him to his majesty, the scarecrow." but what will his majesty, the scarecrow, do with him?" asked the guardian of the gates. "that is his majesty's business," returned the soldier. "i have troubles enough of my own. all outside troubles must be turned over to his majesty. so put the spectacles on this fellow, and i'll take him to the royal palace." 68 so the guardian opened a big box of spectacles and tried to fit a pair to jack's great round eyes. "i haven't a pair in stock that will really cover those eyes up," said the little man, with a sigh; "and your head is so big that i shall be obliged to tie the spectacles on." "but why need i wear spectacles?" asked jack. "it's the fashion here," said the soldier, "and they will keep you from being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous emerald city." "oh!" exclaimed jack. "tie them on, by all means. i don't wish to be blinded." "nor i!" broke in the saw-horse; so a pair of green spectacles was quickly fastened over the bulging knots that served it for eyes. then the soldier with the green whiskers led them through the inner gate and they at once found themselves in the main street of the magnificent emerald city. sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. even the green marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time. however, the pumpkinhead and the saw-horse, 69 knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through their green spectacles. they calmly followed after the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at them in surprise. when a green dog ran out and barked at them the sawhorse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace. the pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight into the scarecrow's presence; but the soldier would not permit that. so jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the saw-horse around to the rear while the soldier with the green whiskers escorted the pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance. the stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the soldier went to announce him. it so happened that at this hour his majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room. jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. but when he en70 tered the room and saw for the first time his majesty the scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in amazement. line-art drawing 71 his majesty the scarecrow i suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but jack pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at meeting the remarkable king of the emerald city than by any other one experience of his brief life. his majesty the scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a face. the clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that his majesty's legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was necessary. upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were padded with cotton. wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch's 72 coat and also from his neck and boot-tops. upon his head he wore a heavy golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful expression to the painted face. indeed, the crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the scarecrow king was but a simple scarecrow--flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial. but if the strange appearance of his majesty the scarecrow seemed startling to jack, no less wonderful was the form of the pumpkinhead to the scarecrow. the purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden joints tip had manufactured, and the carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered life the jolliest thing imaginable. at first, indeed, his majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason that the scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the wisest personage in the land of oz. he made a more careful examination of his visitor, and soon discovered that jack's features were carved into a smile and that he could not look grave if he wished to. the king was the first to speak. after regarding 73 line-art drawing jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder: "where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?" "i beg your majesty's pardon," returned the pumpkinhead; "but i do not understand you." 74 "what don't you understand?" asked the scarecrow. "why, i don't understand your language. you see, i came from the country of the gillikins, so that i am a foreigner." "ah, to be sure!" exclaimed the scarecrow. "i myself speak the language of the munchkins, which is also the language of the emerald city. but you, i suppose, speak the language of the pumpkinheads?" "exactly so, your majesty" replied the other, bowing; "so it will be impossible for us to understand one another." "that is unfortunate, certainly," said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "we must have an interpreter." "what is an interpreter?" asked jack. "a person who understands both my language and your own. when i say anything, the interpreter can tell you what i mean; and when you say anything the interpreter can tell me what you mean. for the interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them." "that is certainly clever," said jack, greatly pleased at finding so simple a way out of the difficulty. so the scarecrow commanded the soldier with the green whiskers to search among his people 75 until he found one who understood the language of the gillikins as well as the language of the emerald city, and to bring that person to him at once. when the soldier had departed the scarecrow said: "won't you take a chair while we are waiting?" "your majesty forgets that i cannot understand you," replied the pumpkinhead. "if you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so." the scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair to a position behind the pumpkinhead. then he gave jack a sudden push that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that he doubled up like a jackknife, and had hard work to untangle himself. "did you understand that sign?" asked his majesty, politely. "perfectly," declared jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported it. "you seem hastily made," remarked the scarecrow, watching jack's efforts to straighten himself. "not more so than your majesty," was the frank reply. "there is this difference between us," said the scarecrow, "that whereas i will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend." 76 full page line-art drawing. "he gave jack a sudden push" 77 at this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand. she seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green eyes and hair. a dainty green silk skirt reached to her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles. upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroidered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size. "why, it's little jellia jamb!" exclaimed the scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty head before him. "do you understand the language of the gillikins, my dear?" "yes, your majesty," she answered, "for i was born in the north country." "then you shall be our interpreter," said the scarecrow, "and explain to this pumpkinhead all that i say, and also explain to me all that he says. is this arrangement satisfactory?" he asked, turning toward his guest. "very satisfactory indeed," was the reply. "then ask him, to begin with," resumed the scarecrow, turning to jellia, "what brought him to the emerald city." but instead of this the girl, who had been staring at jack, said to him: 78 "you are certainly a wonderful creature. who made you?" "a boy named tip," answered jack. "what does he say?" inquired the scarecrow. "my ears must have deceived me. what did he say?" "he says that your majesty's brains seem to have come loose," replied the girl, demurely. the scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt of his head with his left hand. "what a fine thing it is to understand two different languages," he said, with a perplexed sigh. "ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the emerald city." "i didn't insult you!" protested jack, indignantly. "tut--tut!" cautioned the scarecrow "wait, until jellia translates my speech. what have we got an interpreter for, if you break out in this rash way?" "all right, i'll wait," replied the pumpkinhead, in a surly tone--although his face smiled as genially as ever. "translate the speech, young woman." "his majesty inquires if you are hungry, said jellia. "oh, not at all!" answered jack, more pleasantly, "for it is impossible for me to eat." "it's the same way with me," remarked the scarecrow. "what did he say, jellia, my dear?" 79 "he asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is painted larger than the other," said the girl, mischievously. "don't you believe her, your majesty, cried jack. "oh, i don't," answered the scarecrow, calmly. then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked: "are you quite certain you understand the languages of both the gillikins and the munchkins?" "quite certain, your majesty," said jellia jamb, trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty. "then how is it that i seem to understand them myself?" inquired the scarecrow. "because they are one and the same!" declared the girl, now laughing merrily. "does not your majesty know that in all the land of oz but one language is spoken?" "is it indeed so?" cried the scarecrow, much relieved to hear this; "then i might easily have been my own interpreter!" "it was all my fault, your majesty," said jack, looking rather foolish, "i thought we must surely speak different languages, since we came from different countries." "this should be a warning to you never to think," returned the scarecrow, severely. "for 80 unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a dummy--which you most certainly are." "i am!--i surely am!" agreed the pumpkinhead. "it seems to me," continued the scarecrow, more mildly, "that your manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man." "i assure your majesty that i did not ask to be created," answered jack. "ah! it was the same in my case," said the king, pleasantly. "and so, as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends." "with all my heart!" exclaimed jack. "what! have you a heart?" asked the scarecrow, surprised. "no; that was only imaginative--i might say, a figure of speech," said the other. "well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so i must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you have no right to exercise," suggested the scarecrow, warningly. "to be sure!" said jack, without in the least comprehending. his majesty then dismissed jellia jamb and the soldier with the green whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by the arm and led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits. 81 full page line-art drawing. 82 full page line-art drawing. 83 gen. jinjur's army of revolt tip was so anxious to rejoin his man jack and the saw-horse that he walked a full half the distance to the emerald city without stopping to rest. then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he had provided for the journey had all been eaten. while wondering what he should do in this emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the roadside. she wore a costume that struck the boy as being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct colors--blue in front, yellow at the left side, red at the back and purple at the right side. fastening 84 the waist in front were four buttons--the top one blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple. line-art drawing the splendor of this dress was almost barbaric; so tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for some moments before his eyes were attracted by the 85 pretty face above it. yes, the face was pretty enough, he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity. while the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. a lunch basket stood beside her, and she held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard-boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused tip's sympathy. he was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. "there!" said she; "it is time for me to go. carry that basket for me and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry." tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a time the strange girl without bothering to ask questions. she walked along before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of decision and importance that led him to suspect she was some great personage. finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps--a very difficult feat, for she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry. "thank you very much for the sandwiches," said tip, as he trotted along. "may i ask your name?" 86 "i am general jinjur," was the brief reply. "oh!" said the boy surprised. "what sort of a general?" "i command the army of revolt in this war," answered the general, with unnecessary sharpness. "oh!" he again exclaimed. "i didn't know there was a war." "you were not supposed to know it," she returned, "for we have kept it a secret; and considering that our army is composed entirely of girls," she added, with some pride, "it is surely a remarkable thing that our revolt is not yet discovered." "it is, indeed," acknowledged tip. "but where is your army?" "about a mile from here," said general jinjur. "the forces have assembled from all parts of the land of oz, at my express command. for this is the day we are to conquer his majesty the scarecrow, and wrest from him the throne. the army of revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the emerald city." "well!" declared tip, drawing a long breath, "this is certainly a surprising thing! may i ask why you wish to conquer his majesty the scarecrow?" "because the emerald city has been ruled by men long enough, for one reason," said the girl. 87 "moreover, the city glitters with beautiful gems, which might far better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces; and there is enough money in the king's treasury to buy every girl in our army a dozen new gowns. so we intend to conquer the city and run the government to suit ourselves." jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision that proved she was in earnest. "but war is a terrible thing," said tip, thoughtfully. "this war will be pleasant," replied the girl, cheerfully. "many of you will be slain!" continued the boy, in an awed voice. "oh, no", said jinjur. "what man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm her? and there is not an ugly face in my entire army." tip laughed. "perhaps you are right," said he. "but the guardian of the gate is considered a faithful guardian, and the king's army will not let the city be conquered without a struggle." "the army is old and feeble," replied general jinjur, scornfully. "his strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper that she has already pulled more than half of them 88 out by the roots. when the wonderful wizard reigned the soldier with the green whiskers was a very good royal army, for people feared the wizard. but no one is afraid of the scarecrow, so his royal army don't count for much in time of war." after this conversation they proceeded some distance in silence, and before long reached a large clearing in the forest where fully four hundred young women were assembled. these were laughing and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of conquest. they were divided into four companies, and tip noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to that worn by general jinjur. the only real difference was that while those girls from the munchkin country had the blue strip in front of their skirts, those from the country of the quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the country of the winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. all had green waists, representing the emerald city they intended to conquer, and the top button on each waist indicated by its color which country the wearer came from. the uniforms were jaunty and becoming, and quite effective when massed together. tip thought this strange army bore no weapons 89 whatever; but in this he was wrong. for each girl had stuck through the knot of her back hair two long, glittering knitting-needles. general jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and addressed her army. "friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!" she said; "we are about to begin our great revolt against the men of oz! we march to conquer the emerald city--to dethrone the scarecrow king--to acquire thousands of gorgeous gems--to rifle the royal treasury--and to obtain power over our former oppressors!" "hurrah!" said those who had listened; but tip thought most of the army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the words of the general. the command to march was now given, and the girls formed themselves into four bands, or companies, and set off with eager strides toward the emerald city. line-art drawing on the right of this page. 90 line-art drawing the boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and wraps and packages which various members of the army of revolt had placed in his care. it was not long before they came to the green granite walls of the city and halted before the gateway. 91 the guardian of the gate at once came out and looked at them curiously, as if a circus had come to town. he carried a bunch of keys swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were thrust carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the city was threatened by rebels. speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said: "good morning, my dears! what can i do for you?" line-art drawing "surrender instantly!" answered general jinjur, standing before him and frowning as terribly as her pretty face would allow her to. "surrender!" echoed the man, astounded. "why, it's impossible. it's against the law! i never heard of such a thing in my life." 92 "still, you must surrender!" exclaimed the general, fiercely. "we are revolting!" "you don't look it," said the guardian, gazing from one to another, admiringly. "but we are!" cried jinjur, stamping her foot, impatiently; "and we mean to conquer the emerald city!" "good gracious!" returned the surprised guardian of the gates; "what a nonsensical idea! go home to your mothers, my good girls, and milk the cows and bake the bread. don't you know it's a dangerous thing to conquer a city?" "we are not afraid!" responded the general; and she looked so determined that it made the guardian uneasy. so he rang the bell for the soldier with the green whiskers, and the next minute was sorry he had done so. for immediately he was surrounded by a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles from their hair and began jabbing them at the guardian with the sharp points dangerously near his fat cheeks and blinking eyes. the poor man howled loudly for mercy and made no resistance when jinjur drew the bunch of keys from around his neck. followed by her army the general now rushed 93 full page line-art drawing. general jinjur and her army capture the city. 94 to the gateway, where she was confronted by the royal army of oz--which was the other name for the soldier with the green whiskers. "halt!" he cried, and pointed his long gun full in the face of the leader. some of the girls screamed and ran back, but general jinjur bravely stood her ground and said, reproachfully: "why, how now? would you shoot a poor, defenceless girl?" "no," replied the soldier, "for my gun isn't loaded." "not loaded?" "no; for fear of accidents. and i've forgotten where i hid the powder and shot to load it with. but if you'll wait a short time i'll try to hunt them up." "don't trouble yourself," said jinjur, cheerfully. then she turned to her army and cried: "girls, the gun isn't loaded!" "hooray," shrieked the rebels, delighted at this good news, and they proceeded to rush upon the soldier with the green whiskers in such a crowd that it was a wonder they didn't stick the knitting-needles into one another. but the royal army of oz was too much afraid 95 of women to meet the onslaught. he simply turned about and ran with all his might through the gate and toward the royal palace, while general jinjur and her mob flocked into the unprotected city. in this way was the emerald city captured without a drop of blood being spilled. the army of revolt had become an army of conquerors! line-art drawing 96 full page line-art drawing. 97 the scarecrow plans an escape tip slipped away from the girls and followed swiftly after the soldier with the green whiskers. the invading army entered the city more slowly, for they stopped to dig emeralds out of the walls and paving-stones with the points of their knitting-needles. so the soldier and the boy reached the palace before the news had spread that the city was conquered. the scarecrow and jack pumpkinhead were still playing at quoits in the courtyard when the game was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of the royal army of oz, who came flying in without his hat or gun, his clothes in sad disarray and his long beard floating a yard behind him as he ran. 98 "tally one for me," said the scarecrow, calmly "what's wrong, my man?" he added, addressing the soldier. "oh! your majesty--your majesty! the city is conquered!" gasped the royal army, who was all out of breath. "this is quite sudden," said the scarecrow. "but please go and bar all the doors and windows of the palace, while i show this pumpkinhead how to throw a quoit." the soldier hastened to do this, while tip, who had arrived at his heels, remained in the courtyard to look at the scarecrow with wondering eyes. his majesty continued to throw the quoits as coolly as if no danger threatened his throne, but the pumpkinhead, having caught sight of tip, ambled toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go. "good afternoon, noble parent!" he cried, delightedly. "i'm glad to see you are here. that terrible saw-horse ran away with me." "i suspected it," said tip. "did you get hurt? are you cracked at all?" "no, i arrived safely," answered jack, "and his majesty has been very kind indeed to me. at this moment the soldier with the green whiskers returned, and the scarecrow asked: 99 "by the way, who has conquered me?" "a regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the land of oz," replied the soldier, still pale with fear. "but where was my standing army at the time?" inquired his majesty, looking at the soldier, gravely. "your standing army was running," answered the fellow, honestly; "for no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders." "well," said the scarecrow, after a moment's thought, "i don't mind much the loss of my throne, for it's a tiresome job to rule over the emerald city. and this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. but i hope the conquerors have no intention of injuring me, just because i happen to be the king." "i heard them, say" remarked tip, with some hesitation, "that they intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with your inside." "then i am really in danger," declared his majesty, positively, "and it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape." "where can you go?" asked jack pumpkinhead. "why, to my friend the tin woodman, who 100 line-art drawing rules over the winkies, and calls himself their emperor," was the answer. "i am sure he will protect me." tip was looking out the window. "the palace is surrounded by the enemy," said 101 he "it is too late to escape. they would soon tear you to pieces." the scarecrow sighed. "in an emergency," he announced, "it is always a good thing to pause and reflect. please excuse me while i pause and reflect." "but we also are in danger," said the pumpkinhead, anxiously. "if any of these girls understand cooking, my end is not far off!" "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow. "they're too busy to cook, even if they know how!" "but should i remain here a prisoner for any length of time," protested jack," i'm liable to spoil." "ah! then you would not be fit to associate with," returned the scarecrow. "the matter is more serious than i suspected." "you," said the pumpkinhead, gloomily, "are liable to live for many years. my life is necessarily short. so i must take advantage of the few days that remain to me." "there, there! don't worry," answered the scarecrow soothingly; "if you'll keep quiet long enough for me to think, i'll try to find some way for us all to escape." so the others waited in patient silence while the scarecrow walked to a corner and stood with his 102 face to the wall for a good five minutes. at the end of that time he faced them with a more cheerful expression upon his painted face. "where is the saw-horse you rode here?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "why, i said he was a jewel, and so your man locked him up in the royal treasury," said jack. "it was the only place i could think of your majesty," added the soldier, fearing he had made a blunder. "it pleases me very much," said the scarecrow. "has the animal been fed?" "oh, yes; i gave him a heaping peck of sawdust." "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "bring the horse here at once." the soldier hastened away, and presently they heard the clattering of the horse's wooden legs upon the pavement as he was led into the courtyard. his majesty regarded the steed critically. "he doesn't seem especially graceful!" he remarked, musingly. "but i suppose he can run?" "he can, indeed," said tip, gazing upon the saw-horse admiringly. "then, bearing us upon his back, he must make a dash through the ranks of the rebels and carry us to my friend the tin woodman," announced the scarecrow. 103 "he can't carry four!" objected tip. "no, but he may be induced to carry three," said his majesty. "i shall therefore leave my royal army behind. for, from the ease with which he was conquered, i have little confidence in his powers." "still, he can run," declared tip, laughing. "i expected this blow" said the soldier, sulkily; "but i can bear it. i shall disguise myself by cutting off my lovely green whiskers. and, after all, it is no more dangerous to face those reckless girls than to ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!" "perhaps you are right," observed his majesty. "but, for my part, not being a soldier, i am fond of danger. now, my boy, you must mount first. and please sit as close to the horse's neck as possible." tip climbed quickly to his place, and the soldier and the scarecrow managed to hoist the pumpkinhead to a seat just behind him. there remained so little space for the king that he was liable to fall off as soon as the horse started. "fetch a clothesline," said the king to his army, "and tie us all together. then if one falls off we will all fall off." and while the soldier was gone for the clothesline his majesty continued, "it is well for me to be careful, for my very existence is in danger." 104 "i have to be as careful as you do," said jack. "not exactly," replied the scarecrow. "for if anything happened to me, that would be the end of me. but if anything happened to you, they could use you for seed." the soldier now returned with a long line and tied all three firmly together, also lashing them to the body of the saw-horse; so there seemed little danger of their tumbling off. "now throw open the gates," commanded the scarecrow, "and we will make a dash to liberty or to death." the courtyard in which they were standing was located in the center of the great palace, which surrounded it on all sides. but in one place a passage led to an outer gateway, which the soldier had barred by order of his sovereign. it was through this gateway his majesty proposed to escape, and the royal army now led the saw-horse along the passage and unbarred the gate, which swung backward with a loud crash. "now," said tip to the horse, "you must save us all. run as fast as you can for the gate of the city, and don't let anything stop you." "all right!" answered the saw-horse, gruffly, and dashed away so suddenly that tip had to gasp 105 full page line-art drawing. "we will make a dash to liberty or to death." 106 for breath and hold firmly to the post he had driven into the creature's neck. several of the girls, who stood outside guarding the palace, were knocked over by the saw-horse's mad rush. others ran screaming out of the way, and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles frantically at the escaping prisoners. tip got one small prick in his left arm, which smarted for an hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon the scarecrow or jack pumpkinhead, who never even suspected they were being prodded. as for the saw-horse, he made a wonderful record upsetting a fruit cart, overturning several meek looking men, and finally bowling over the new guardian of the gate--a fussy little fat woman appointed by general jinjur. nor did the impetuous charger stop then. once outside the walls of the emerald city he dashed along the road to the west with fast and violent leaps that shook the breath out of the boy and filled the scarecrow with wonder. jack had ridden at this mad rate once before, so he devoted every effort to holding, with both hands, his pumpkin head upon its stick, enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage of a philosopher. 107 full page line-art drawing. the wooden steed gave one final leap 108 "slow him up! slow him up!" shouted the scarecrow. "my straw is all shaking down into my legs." but tip had no breath to speak, so the saw-horse continued his wild career unchecked and with unabated speed. presently they came to the banks of a wide river, and without a pause the wooden steed gave one final leap and launched them all in mid-air. a second later they were rolling, splashing and bobbing about in the water, the horse struggling frantically to find a rest for its feet and its riders being first plunged beneath the rapid current and then floating upon the surface like corks. line-art drawing 109 the journey to the tin woodman tip was well soaked and dripping water from every angle of his body. but he managed to lean forward and shout in the ear of the saw-horse: "keep still, you fool! keep still!" the horse at once ceased struggling and floated calmly upon the surface, its wooden body being as buoyant as a raft. "what does that word 'fool' mean?" enquired the horse. "it is a term of reproach," answered tip, somewhat ashamed of the expression. "i only use it when i am angry." "then it pleases me to be able to call you a fool, in return," said the horse. "for i did not make 110 the river, nor put it in our way; so only a term of, reproach is fit for one who becomes angry with me for falling into the water." "that is quite evident," replied tip; "so i will acknowledge myself in the wrong." then he called out to the pumpkinhead: "are you all right, jack?" there was no reply. so the boy called to the king "are you all right, your majesty?" the scarecrow groaned. "i'm all wrong, somehow," he said, in a weak voice. "how very wet this water is!" tip was bound so tightly by the cord that he could not turn his head to look at his companions; so he said to the saw-horse: "paddle with your legs toward the shore." the horse obeyed, and although their progress was slow they finally reached the opposite river bank at a place where it was low enough to enable the creature to scramble upon dry land. with some difficulty the boy managed to get his knife out of his pocket and cut the cords that bound the riders to one another and to the wooden horse. he heard the scarecrow fall to the ground with a mushy sound, and then he himself quickly dismounted and looked at his friend jack. the wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing, 111 still sat upright upon the horse's back; but the pumpkin head was gone, and only the sharpened stick that served for a neck was visible. as for the scarecrow, the straw in his body had shaken down with the jolting and packed itself into his legs and the lower part of his body--which appeared very plump and round while his upper half seemed like an empty sack. upon his head the scarecrow still wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on to prevent his losing it; but the head was now so damp and limp that the weight of the gold and jewels sagged forward and crushed the painted face into a mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a japanese pug dog. tip would have laughed--had he not been so anxious about his man jack. but the scarecrow, however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin head that was so necessary to jack's existence was missing; so the boy seized a long pole that fortunately lay near at hand and anxiously turned again toward the river. far out upon the waters he sighted the golden hue of the pumpkin, which gently bobbed up and down with the motion of the waves. at that moment it was quite out of tip's reach, but after a time it floated nearer and still nearer until the boy 112 full page line-art drawing. tip rescues jack's pumpkin head 113 was able to reach it with his pole and draw it to the shore. then he brought it to the top of the bank, carefully wiped the water from its pumpkin face with his handkerchief, and ran with it to jack and replaced the head upon the man's neck. "dear me!" were jack's first words. "what a dreadful experience! i wonder if water is liable to spoil pumpkins?" tip did not think a reply was necessary, for he knew that the scarecrow also stood in need of his help. so he carefully removed the straw from the king's body and legs, and spread it out in the sun to dry. the wet clothing he hung over the body of the saw-horse. "if water spoils pumpkins," observed jack, with a deep sigh, "then my days are numbered." "i've never noticed that water spoils pumpkins," returned tip; "unless the water happens to be boiling. if your head isn't cracked, my friend, you must be in fairly good condition." "oh, my head isn't cracked in the least," declared jack, more cheerfully. "then don't worry," retorted the boy. "care once killed a cat." "then," said jack, seriously, "i am very glad indeed that i am not a cat." 114 the sun was fast drying their clothing, and tip stirred up his majesty's straw so that the warm rays might absorb the moisture and make it as crisp and dry as ever. when this had been accomplished he stuffed the scarecrow into symmetrical shape and smoothed out his face so that he wore his usual gay and charming expression. "thank you very much," said the monarch, brightly, as he walked about and found himself to be well balanced. "there are several distinct advantages in being a scarecrow. for if one has friends near at hand to repair damages, nothing very serious can happen to you." "i wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack pumpkins," said jack, with an anxious ring in his voice. "not at all--not at all!" replied the scarecrow, gaily." all you need fear, my boy, is old age. when your golden youth has decayed we shall quickly part company--but you needn't look forward to it; we'll discover the fact ourselves, and notify you. but come! let us resume our journey. i am anxious to greet my friend the tin woodman." so they remounted the saw-horse, tip holding to the post, the pumpkinhead clinging to tip, and the scarecrow with both arms around the wooden form of jack. 115 full page line-art drawing. tip stuffs the scarecrow with dry straw. 116 "go slowly, for now there is no danger of pursuit," said tip to his steed. "all right!" responded the creature, in a voice rather gruff. "aren't you a little hoarse?" asked the pumpkinhead politely. the saw-horse gave an angry prance and rolled one knotty eye backward toward tip. "see here," he growled, "can't you protect me from insult?" "to be sure!" answered tip, soothingly. "i am sure jack meant no harm. and it will not do for us to quarrel, you know; we must all remain good friends." "i'll have nothing more to do with that pumpkinhead," declared the sawhorse, viciously. "he loses his head too easily to suit me." there seemed no fitting reply to this speech, so for a time they rode along in silence. after a while the scarecrow remarked: "this reminds me of old times. it was upon this grassy knoll that i once saved dorothy from the stinging bees of the wicked witch of the west." "do stinging bees injure pumpkins?" asked jack, glancing around fearfully. "they are all dead, so it doesn't matter," replied 117 the scarecrow." and here is where nick chopper destroyed the wicked witch's grey wolves." "who was nick chopper?" asked tip. "that is the name of my friend the tin woodman, answered his majesty. and here is where the winged monkeys captured and bound us, and flew away with little dorothy," he continued, after they had traveled a little way farther. "do winged monkeys ever eat pumpkins?" asked jack, with a shiver of fear. "i do not know; but you have little cause to, worry, for the winged monkeys are now the slaves of glinda the good, who owns the golden cap that commands their services," said the scarecrow, reflectively. then the stuffed monarch became lost in thought recalling the days of past adventures. and the saw-horse rocked and rolled over the flower-strewn fields and carried its riders swiftly upon their way. * * * * * * * * * twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows of night. so tip stopped the horse and they all proceeded to dismount. "i'm tired out," said the boy, yawning wearily; "and the grass is soft and cool. let us lie down here and sleep until morning." 118 "i can't sleep," said jack. "i never do," said the scarecrow. "i do not even know what sleep is," said the saw-horse. "still, we must have consideration for this poor boy, who is made of flesh and blood and bone, and gets tired," suggested the scarecrow, in his usual thoughtful manner. "i remember it was the same way with little dorothy. we always had to sit through the night while she slept." "i'm sorry," said tip, meekly, "but i can't help it. and i'm dreadfully hungry, too!" "here is a new danger!" remarked jack, gloomily. "i hope you are not fond of eating pumpkins." "not unless they're stewed and made into pies," answered the boy, laughing. "so have no fears of me, friend jack." "what a coward that pumpkinhead is!" said the saw-horse, scornfully. "you might be a coward yourself, if you knew you were liable to spoil!" retorted jack, angrily. "there!--there!" interrupted the scarecrow; "don't let us quarrel. we all have our weaknesses, dear friends; so we must strive to be considerate of one another. and since this poor boy is hungry and has nothing whatever to eat, let us all remain 119 quiet and allow him to sleep; for it is said that in sleep a mortal may forget even hunger." "thank you!" exclaimed tip, gratefully. "your majesty is fully as good as you are wise--and that is saying a good deal!" he then stretched himself upon the grass and, using the stuffed form of the scarecrow for a pillow, was presently fast asleep. line-art drawing 120 full page line-art drawing. 121 a nickel-plated emperor tip awoke soon after dawn, but the scarecrow had already risen and plucked, with his clumsy fingers, a double-handful of ripe berries from some bushes near by. these the boy ate greedily, finding them an ample breakfast, and afterward the little party resumed its journey. after an hour's ride they reached the summit of a hill from whence they espied the city of the winkies and noted the tall domes of the emperor's palace rising from the clusters of more modest dwellings. the scarecrow became greatly animated at this sight, and exclaimed: "how delighted i shall be to see my old friend the tin woodman again! i hope that he rules his people more successfully than i have ruled mine!" is the tin woodman the emperor of the winkies?" asked the horse. "yes, indeed. they invited him to rule over 122 them soon after the wicked witch was destroyed; and as nick chopper has the best heart in all the world i am sure he has proved an excellent and able emperor." "i thought that 'emperor' was the title of a person who rules an empire," said tip, "and the country of the winkies is only a kingdom." "don't mention that to the tin woodman!" exclaimed the scarecrow, earnestly. "you would hurt his feelings terribly. he is a proud man, as he has every reason to be, and it pleases him to be termed emperor rather than king." "i'm sure it makes no difference to me," replied the boy. the saw-horse now ambled forward at a pace so fast that its riders had hard work to stick upon its back; so there was little further conversation until they drew up beside the palace steps. an aged winkie, dressed in a uniform of silver cloth, came forward to assist them to alight. said the scarecrow to his personage: "show us at once to your master, the emperor." the man looked from one to another of the party in an embarrassed way, and finally answered: "i fear i must ask you to wait for a time. the emperor is not receiving this morning." 123 "how is that?" enquired the scarecrow, anxiously." i hope nothing has happened to him." "oh, no; nothing serious," returned the man. "but this is his majesty's day for being polished; and just now his august presence is thickly smeared with putz-pomade." "oh, i see!" cried the scarecrow, greatly reassured. "my friend was ever inclined to be a dandy, and i suppose he is now more proud than ever of his personal appearance." "he is, indeed," said the man, with a polite bow. "our mighty emperor has lately caused himself to be nickel-plated." "good gracious!" the scarecrow exclaimed at hearing this. "if his wit bears the same polish, how sparkling it must be! but show us in--i'm sure the emperor will receive us, even in his present state" "the emperor's state is always magnificent," said the man. "but i will venture to tell him of your arrival, and will receive his commands concerning you." so the party followed the servant into a splendid ante-room, and the sawhorse ambled awkwardly after them, having no knowledge that a horse might be expected to remain outside. 124 the travelers were at first somewhat awed by their surroundings, and even the scarecrow seemed impressed as he examined the rich hangings of silver cloth caught up into knots and fastened with tiny silver axes. upon a handsome center-table stood a large silver oil-can, richly engraved with scenes from the past adventures of the tin woodman, dorothy, the cowardly lion and the scarecrow: the lines of the engraving being traced upon the silver in yellow gold. on the walls hung several portraits, that of the scarecrow seeming to be the most prominent and carefully executed, while a the large painting of the famous wizard of oz, in act of presenting the tin woodman with a heart, covered almost one entire end of the room. while the visitors gazed at these things in silent admiration they suddenly heard a loud voice in the next room exclaim: "well! well! well! what a great surprise!" and then the door burst open and nick chopper rushed into their midst and caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace that creased him into many folds and wrinkles. "my dear old friend! my noble comrade!" cried the tin woodman, joyfully. "how delighted!," i am to meet you once again. 125 full page line-art drawing. caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace 126 and then he released the scarecrow and held him at arms' length while he surveyed the beloved, painted features. but, alas! the face of the scarecrow and many portions of his body bore great blotches of putz-pomade; for the tin woodman, in his eagerness to welcome his friend, had quite forgotten the condition of his toilet and had rubbed the thick coating of paste from his own body to that of his comrade. "dear me!" said the scarecrow dolefully. "what a mess i'm in!" "never mind, my friend," returned the tin woodman," i'll send you to my imperial laundry, and you'll come out as good as new." "won't i be mangled?" asked the scarecrow. "no, indeed!" was the reply. "but tell me, how came your majesty here? and who are your companions?" the scarecrow, with great politeness, introduced tip and jack pumpkinhead, and the latter personage seemed to interest the tin woodman greatly. "you are not very substantial, i must admit," said the emperor. "but you are certainly unusual, and therefore worthy to become a member of our select society." "i thank your majesty, said jack, humbly. 127 line-art drawing "i hope you are enjoying good health?" continued the woodman. "at present, yes;" replied the pumpkinhead, with a sigh; "but i am in constant terror of the day when i shall spoil." "nonsense!" said the emperor--but in a kindly, sympathetic tone. "do not, i beg of you, dampen today's sun with the showers of tomorrow. for before your head has time to spoil you can have it canned, and in that way it may be preserved indefinitely." tip, during this conversation, was looking at the woodman with undisguised amazement, and noticed that the celebrated emperor of the winkies was composed entirely of pieces of tin, neatly soldered 128 and riveted together into the form of a man. he rattled and clanked a little, as he moved, but in the main he seemed to be most cleverly constructed, and his appearance was only marred by the thick coating of polishing-paste that covered him from head to foot. the boy's intent gaze caused the tin woodman to remember that he was not in the most presentable condition, so he begged his friends to excuse him while he retired to his private apartment and allowed his servants to polish him. this was accomplished in a short time, and when the emperor returned his nickel-plated body shone so magnificently that the scarecrow heartily congratulated him on his improved appearance. "that nickel-plate was, i confess, a happy thought," said nick; "and it was the more necessary because i had become somewhat scratched during my adventurous experiences. you will observe this engraved star upon my left breast. it not only indicates where my excellent heart lies, but covers very neatly the patch made by the wonderful wizard when he placed that valued organ in my breast with his own skillful hands." "is your heart, then, a hand-organ?" asked the pumpkinhead, curiously. 129 "by no means," responded the emperor, with dignity. "it is, i am convinced, a strictly orthodox heart, although somewhat larger and warmer than most people possess." then he turned to the scarecrow and asked: "are your subjects happy and contented, my dear friend?" "i cannot, say" was the reply. "for the girls of oz have risen in revolt and driven me out of the emerald city." "great goodness!" cried the tin woodman, "what a calamity! they surely do not complain of your wise and gracious rule?" "no; but they say it is a poor rule that don't work both ways," answered the scarecrow; "and these females are also of the opinion that men have ruled the land long enough. so they have captured my city, robbed the treasury of all its jewels, and are running things to suit themselves." "dear me! what an extraordinary idea!" cried the emperor, who was both shocked and surprised. "and i heard some of them say," said tip, "that they intend to march here and capture the castle and city of the tin woodman." "ah! we must not give them time to do that," said the emperor, quickly; "we will go at once and 130 full page line-art drawing. renovating his majesty, the scarecrow. 131 recapture the emerald city and place the scarecrow again upon his throne." "i was sure you would help me," remarked the scarecrow in a pleased voice. "how large an army can you assemble?" "we do not need an army," replied the woodman. "we four, with the aid of my gleaming axe, are enough to strike terror into the hearts of the rebels." "we five," corrected the pumpkinhead. "five?" repeated the tin woodman. "yes; the saw-horse is brave and fearless," answered jack, forgetting his recent quarrel with the quadruped. the tin woodman looked around him in a puzzled way, for the saw-horse had until now remained quietly standing in a corner, where the emperor had not noticed him. tip immediately called the odd-looking creature to them, and it approached so awkwardly that it nearly upset the beautiful center-table and the engraved oil-can. "i begin to think," remarked the tin woodman as he looked earnestly at the saw-horse, "that wonders will never cease! how came this creature alive?" "i did it with a magic powder," modestly asserted the boy. "and the sawhorse has been very useful to us." 132 "he enabled us to escape the rebels," added the scarecrow. "then we must surely accept him as a comrade," declared the emperor. "a live saw-horse is a distinct novelty, and should prove an interesting study. does he know anything?" "well, i cannot claim any great experience in life," the saw-horse answered for himself. "but i seem to learn very quickly, and often it occurs to me that i know more than any of those around me." "perhaps you do," said the emperor; "for experience does not always mean wisdom. but time is precious just now, so let us quickly make preparations to start upon our journey. the emperor called his lord high chancellor and instructed him how to run the kingdom during his absence. meanwhile the scarecrow was taken apart and the painted sack that served him for a head was carefully laundered and restuffed with the brains originally given him by the great wizard. his clothes were also cleaned and pressed by the imperial tailors, and his crown polished and again sewed upon his head, for the tin woodman insisted he should not renounce this badge of royalty. the scarecrow now presented a very respectable appearance, and although in no way addicted to vanity he 133 was quite pleased with himself and strutted a trifle as he walked. while this was being done tip mended the wooden limbs of jack pumpkinhead and made them stronger than before, and the saw-horse was also inspected to see if he was in good working order. then bright and early the next morning they set out upon the return journey to the emerald city, the tin woodman bearing upon his shoulder a gleaming axe and leading the way, while the pumpkinhead rode upon the saw-horse and tip and the scarecrow walked upon either side to make sure that he didn't fall off or become damaged. line-art drawing 134 full page line-art drawing. 135 mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. now, general jinjur--who, you will remember, commanded the army of revolt--was rendered very uneasy by the escape of the scarecrow from the emerald city. she feared, and with good reason, that if his majesty and the tin woodman joined forces, it would mean danger to her and her entire army; for the people of oz had not yet forgotten the deeds of these famous heroes, who had passed successfully through so many startling adventures. so jinjur sent post-haste for old mombi, the witch, and promised her large rewards if she would come to the assistance of the rebel army. mombi was furious at the trick tip had played upon her as well as at his escape and the theft of the precious powder of life; so she needed no urging 136 to induce her to travel to the emerald city to assist jinjur in defeating the scarecrow and the tin woodman, who had made tip one of their friends. mombi had no sooner arrived at the royal palace than she discovered, by means of her secret magic, that the adventurers were starting upon their journey to the emerald city; so she retired to a small room high up in a tower and locked herself in while she practised such arts as she could command to prevent the return of the scarecrow and his companions. that was why the tin woodman presently stopped and said: "something very curious has happened. i ought to know by heart and every step of this journey, yet i fear we have already lost our way." "that is quite impossible!" protested the scarecrow. "why do you think, my dear friend, that we have gone astray?" "why, here before us is a great field of sunflowers--and i never saw this field before in all my life." at these words they all looked around, only to find that they were indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk bearing at its top a gigantic sunflower. and not only were these flowers almost 137 blinding in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon its stalk like a miniature wind-mill, completely dazzling the vision of the beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn. "it's witchcraft!" exclaimed tip. while they paused, hesitating and wondering, the tin woodman uttered a cry of impatience and advanced with swinging axe to cut down the stalks before him. but now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid whirling, and the travelers plainly saw a girl's face appear in the center of each flower. these lovely faces looked upon the astonished band with mocking smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their appearance caused. "stop! stop!" cried tip, seizing the woodman's arm; "they're alive! they're girls!" at that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces faded away and were lost in the rapid revolutions. the tin woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground. "it would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures," said he, despondently. "and yet i do not know how else we can proceed upon our way" "they looked to me strangely like the faces of 138 the army of revolt," mused the scarecrow. "but i cannot conceive how the girls could have followed us here so quickly." "i believe it's magic," said tip, positively, "and that someone is playing a trick upon us. i've known old mombi do things like that before. probably it's nothing more than an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all." "then let us shut our eyes and walk forward," suggested the woodman. "excuse me," replied the scarecrow. "my eyes are not painted to shut. because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way." "and the eyes of the saw-horse are knot eyes," said jack, leaning forward to examine them. "nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward," commanded tip, "and we will follow after you and so try to escape. my eyes are already so dazzled that i can scarcely see." so the pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and tip grasped the stub tail of the saw-horse and followed with closed eyes. the scarecrow and the tin woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a joyful shout from jack announced that the way was clear before them. 139 then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained. more cheerfully, now they proceeded upon their journey; but old mombi had so changed the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the scarecrow wisely concluded to take their direction from the sun. for no witch-craft could change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide. however, other difficulties lay before them. the saw-horse stepped into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground. the pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact moment had not the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it descended and saved it from injury. tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced jack upon his feet. but the saw-horse did not escape so easily. for when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther. "this is quite serious," said the tin woodman." if there were trees near by i might soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but i cannot see even a shrub for miles around." 140 full page line-art drawing. the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin 141 "and there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of oz," added the scarecrow, disconsolately. "then what shall we do?" enquired the boy. "i suppose i must start my brains working," replied his majesty the scarecrow; "for experience has, taught me that i can do anything if i but take time to think it out." "let us all think," said tip; "and perhaps we shall find a way to repair the saw-horse." so they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the saw-horse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb. "does it hurt?" asked the tin woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice. "not in the least," returned the saw-horse; "but my pride is injured to find that my anatomy is so brittle." for a time the little group remained in silent thought. presently the tin woodman raised his head and looked over the fields. "what sort of creature is that which approaches us?" he asked, wonderingly. the others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. it advanced quickly and 142 noiselessly over the soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own. the scarecrow was calm under all circumstances. "good morning!" he said, politely. the stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded: line-art drawing "good morning, one and all. i hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. permit me to present my card." with this courteous speech it extended a card toward the scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and handed it with a shake of his head to tip. the boy read aloud: "mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e." 143 "dear me!" ejaculated the pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently. "how very peculiar!" said the tin woodman. tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the saw-horse uttered a sigh and turned away its head. "are you really a woggle-bug?" enquired the scarecrow. "most certainly, my dear sir!" answered the stranger, briskly. "is not my name upon the card?" "it is," said the scarecrow. "but may i ask what 'h. m.' stands for?" "'h. m.' means highly magnified," returned the woggle-bug, proudly. "oh, i see." the scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. "and are you, in truth, highly magnified?" "sir," said the woggle-bug, "i take you for a gentleman of judgment and discernment. does it not occur to you that i am several thousand times greater than any woggle-bug you ever saw before? therefore it is plainly evident that i am highly magnified, and there is no good reason why you should doubt the fact." "pardon me," returned the scarecrow. "my brains are slightly mixed since i was last laundered. would it be improper for me to ask, also, what the 't.e.' at the end of your name stands for?" 144 "those letters express my degree," answered the woggle-bug, with a condescending smile. "to be more explicit, the initials mean that i am thoroughly educated." "oh!" said the scarecrow, much relieved. tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. what he saw was a great, round, buglike body supported upon two slender legs which ended in delicate feet--the toes curling upward. the body of the woggle-bug was rather flat, and judging from what could be seen of it was of a glistening dark brown color upon the back, while the front was striped with alternate bands of light brown and white, blending together at the edges. its arms were fully as slender as its legs, and upon a rather long neck was perched its head--not unlike the head of a man, except that its nose ended in a curling antenna, or "feeler," and its ears from the upper points bore antennae that decorated the sides of its head like two miniature, curling pig tails. it must be admitted that the round, black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon the woggle-bug's face was by no means unpleasant. for dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallowtail coat with a yellow silk lining and a flower in the button-hole; a vest of white duck that stretched 145 tightly across the wide body; knickerbockers of fawn-colored plush, fastened at the knees with gilt buckles; and, perched upon its small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat. standing upright before our amazed friends the woggle-bug appeared to be fully as tall as the tin woodman; and surely no bug in all the land of oz had ever before attained so enormous a size. "i confess," said the scarecrow, "that your abrupt appearance has caused me surprise, and no doubt has startled my companions. i hope, however, that this circumstance will not distress you. we shall probably get used to you in time." "do not apologize, i beg of you!" returned the woggle-bug, earnestly. "it affords me great pleasure to surprise people; for surely i cannot be classed with ordinary insects and am entitled to both curiosity and admiration from those i meet." "you are, indeed," agreed his majesty. "if you will permit me to seat myself in your august company," continued the stranger, "i will gladly relate my history, so that you will be better able to comprehend my unusual--may i say remarkable?--appearance." "you may say what you please," answered the tin woodman, briefly. 146 so the woggle-bug sat down upon the grass, facing the little group of wanderers, and told them the following story: line-art drawing 147 a highly magnified history "it is but honest that i should acknowledge at the beginning of my recital that i was born an ordinary woggle-bug," began the creature, in a frank and friendly tone. "knowing no better, i used my arms as well as my legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid among the roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than myself to feed upon. "the chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless, for i wore no clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new life and restored me to activity. a horrible existence is this, but you must remember it is the regular ordained existence of woggle-bugs, as well as of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth. "but destiny had singled me out, humble though i was, for a grander fate! one day i crawled near 148 to a country school house, and my curiosity being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, i made bold to enter and creep along a crack between two boards until i reached the far end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at his desk. "no one noticed so small a creature as a woggle-bug, and when i found that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine, i resolved to establish my future home beside it. so i found a charming nest between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months. "professor nowitall is, doubtless, the most famous scholar in the land of oz, and after a few days i began to listen to the lectures and discourses he gave his pupils. not one of them was more attentive than the humble, unnoticed woggle-bug, and i acquired in this way a fund of knowledge that i will myself confess is simply marvelous. that is why i place 't.e.' thoroughly educated upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies in the fact that the world cannot produce another woggle-bug with a tenth part of my own culture and erudition." "i do not blame you," said the scarecrow. "education is a thing to be proud of. i'm educated myself. the mess of brains given me by the great 149 wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled." "nevertheless," interrupted the tin woodman, "a good heart is, i believe, much more desirable than education or brains." "to me," said the saw-horse, "a good leg is more desirable than either." "could seeds be considered in the light of brains?" enquired the pumpkinhead, abruptly. "keep quiet!" commanded tip, sternly. "very well, dear father," answered the obedient jack. the woggle-bug listened patiently--even respectfully--to these remarks, and then resumed his story. "i must have lived fully three years in that secluded school-house hearth," said he, "drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of limpid knowledge before me." "quite poetical," commented the scarecrow, nodding his head approvingly. "but one, day" continued the bug, "a marvelous circumstance occurred that altered my very existence and brought me to my present pinnacle of greatness. the line-art drawing 150 professor discovered me in the act of crawling across the hearth, and before i could escape he had caught me between his thumb and forefinger. "'my dear children,' said he, 'i have captured a woggle-bug--a very rare and interesting specimen. do any of you know what a woggle-bug is?' "'no!' yelled the scholars, in chorus. "'then,' said the professor, 'i will get out my famous magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a highly-magnified condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction and become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.' "he then brought from a cupboard a most curious instrument, and before i could realize what had happened i found myself thrown upon a screen in a highly-magnified state--even as you now behold me. "the students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the sill of an open window where they could see more plainly. "'behold!' cried the professor, in a loud voice, 'this highly-magnified woggle-bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!' "being thoroughly educated, and knowing what is required of a cultured gentleman, at this juncture i stood upright and, placing my hand upon my 151 full page line-art drawing. "thee students stood up on their stools." 152 bosom, made a very polite bow. my action, being unexpected, must have startled them, for one of the little girls perched upon the window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the window, drawing her companion with her as she disappeared. "the professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed away through the door to see if the poor children were injured by the fall. the scholars followed after him in a wild mob, and i was left alone in the school-room, still in a highly-magnified state and free to do as i pleased. "it immediately occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to escape. i was proud of my great size, and realized that now i could safely travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would make me a fit associate for the most learned person i might chance to meet. "so, while the professor picked the little girls--who were more frightened than hurt--off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him closely grouped, i calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner, and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near" "wonderful!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead, admiringly. "it was, indeed," agreed the woggle-bug. "i 153 have never ceased to congratulate myself for escaping while i was highly magnified; for even my excess line-art drawing ive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had i remained a tiny, insignificant insect." "i didn't know before," said tip, looking at the 154 woggle-bug with a puzzled expression, "that insects wore clothes." "nor do they, in their natural state," returned the stranger. "but in the course of my wanderings i had the good fortune to save the ninth life of a tailor--tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know. the fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that ninth life it would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with the stylish costume i now wear. it fits very nicely, does it not?" and the woggle-bug stood up and turned himself around slowly, that all might examine his person. "he must have been a good tailor," said the scarecrow, somewhat enviously. "he was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate," observed nick chopper. "but where were you going, when you met us?" tip asked the woggle-bug. "nowhere in particular," was the reply, "although it is my intention soon to visit the emerald city and arrange to give a course of lectures to select audiences on the 'advantages of magnification.'" "we are bound for the emerald city now," said the tin woodman; "so, if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company." 155 the woggle-bug bowed with profound grace. "it will give me great pleasure," said he "to accept your kind invitation; for nowhere in the land of oz could i hope to meet with so congenial a company." "that is true," acknowledged the pumpkinhead. "we are quite as congenial as flies and honey." "but--pardon me if i seem inquisitive--are you not all rather--ahem! rather unusual?" asked the woggle-bug, looking from one to another with unconcealed interest. "not more so than yourself," answered the scarecrow. "everything in life is unusual until you get accustomed to it." "what rare philosophy!" exclaimed the woggle-bug, admiringly. "yes; my brains are working well today," admitted the scarecrow, an accent of pride in his voice. "then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend our steps toward the emerald city," suggested the magnified one. "we can't," said tip. "the saw-horse has broken a leg, so he can't bend his steps. and there is no wood around to make him a new limb from. and we can't leave the horse behind because the pumpkinhead is so stiff in his joints that he has to ride." 156 "how very unfortunate!" cried the woggle-bug. then he looked the party over carefully and said: "if the pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a leg for the horse that carries him? i judge that both are made of wood." "now, that is what i call real cleverness," said the scarecrow, approvingly. "i wonder my brains did not think of that long ago! get to work, my dear nick, and fit the pumpkinhead's leg to the saw-horse." jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he submitted to having his left leg amputated by the tin woodman and whittled down to fit the left leg of the saw-horse. nor was the saw-horse especially pleased with the operation, either; for he growled a good deal about being "butchered," as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg was a disgrace to a respectable saw-horse. "i beg you to be more careful in your speech," said the pumpkinhead, sharply. "remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing." "i cannot forget it," retorted the saw-horse, "for it is quite as flimsy as the rest of your person." "flimsy! me flimsy!" cried jack, in a rage. "how dare you call me flimsy?" "because you are built as absurdly as a jumping157 jack," sneered the horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. "even your head won't stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or forwards!" "friends, i entreat you not to quarrel!" pleaded the tin woodman, anxiously." as a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let us bear with each others' faults." "an excellent suggestion," said the woggle-bug, approvingly. "you must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend." "i have," returned nick, well pleased. "my heart is quite the best part of me. but now let us start upon our journey. they perched the one-legged pumpkinhead upon the saw-horse, and tied him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off. and then, following the lead of the scarecrow, they all advanced in the direction of the emerald city. line-art drawing 158 full page line-art drawing. 159 old mombi indulges in witchcraft they soon discovered that the saw-horse limped, for his new leg was a trifle too long. so they were obliged to halt while the tin woodman chopped it down with his axe, after which the wooden steed paced along more comfortably. but the saw-horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet. "it was a shame that i broke my other leg!" it growled. "on the contrary," airily remarked the woggle-bug, who was walking alongside, "you should consider the accident most fortunate. for a horse is never of much use until he has been broken." "i beg your pardon," said tip, rather provoked, for he felt a warm interest in both the saw-horse and his man jack; "but permit me to say that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor." 160 "still, it is a joke," declared the woggle-bug; firmly, "and a joke derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people to be eminently proper." "what does that mean?" enquired the pumpkinhead, stupidly. "it means, my dear friend," explained the woggle-bug, "that our language contains many words having a double meaning; and that to pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word, proves the joker a person of culture and refinement, who has, moreover, a thorough command of the language." "i don't believe that," said tip, plainly; "anybody can make a pun." "not so," rejoined the woggle-bug, stiffly. "it requires education of a high order. are you educated, young sir?" "not especially," admitted tip. "then you cannot judge the matter. i myself am thoroughly educated, and i say that puns display genius. for instance, were i to ride upon this sawhorse, he would not only be an animal he would become an equipage. for he would then be a horse-and-buggy." at this the scarecrow gave a gasp and the tin 161 woodman stopped short and looked reproachfully at the woggle-bug. at the same time the saw-horse loudly snorted his derision; and even the pumpkinhead put up his hand to hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face, he could not change to a frown. but the woggle-bug strutted along as if he had made some brilliant remark, and the scarecrow was obliged to say: "i have heard, my dear friend, that a person can become over-educated; and although i have a high respect for brains, no matter how they may be arranged or classified, i begin to suspect that yours are slightly tangled. in any event, i must beg you to restrain your superior education while in our society." "we are not very particular," added the tin woodman; "and we are exceedingly kind hearted. but if your superior culture gets leaky again--" he did not complete the sentence, but he twirled his gleaming axe so carelessly that the woggle-bug looked frightened, and shrank away to a safe distance. the others marched on in silence, and the highly magnified one, after a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice: "i will endeavor to restrain myself." 162 "that is all we can expect," returned the scarecrow pleasantly; and good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded upon their way. when they again stopped to allow tip to rest--the boy being the only one that seemed to tire--the tin woodman noticed many small, round holes in the grassy meadow. "this must be a village of the field mice," he said to the scarecrow." i wonder if my old friend, the queen of the mice, is in this neighborhood." "if she is, she may be of great service to us," answered the scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. "see if you can call her, my dear nick." so the tin woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung around his neck, and presently a tiny grey mouse popped from a near-by hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. for the tin woodman had once saved her life, and the queen of the field mice knew he was to be trusted." "good day, your majesty, said nick, politely addressing the mouse; "i trust you are enjoying good health?" "thank you, i am quite well," answered the queen, demurely, as she sat up and displayed the tiny golden crown upon her head. "can i do anything to assist my old friends?" 163 "you can, indeed," replied the scarecrow, eagerly. "let me, i intreat you, take a dozen of your subjects with me to the emerald city." "will they be injured in any way?" asked the queen, doubtfully. "i think not," replied the scarecrow. "i will carry them hidden in the straw which stuffs my body, and when i give them the signal by unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper home again as fast as they can. by doing this they will assist me to regain my throne, which the army of revolt has taken from me." "in that case," said the queen, "i will not refuse your request. whenever you are ready, i will call twelve of my most intelligent subjects." "i am ready now" returned the scarecrow. then he lay flat upon the ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with which he was stuffed. the queen uttered a little piping call, and in an instant a dozen pretty field mice had emerged from their holes and stood before their ruler, awaiting her orders. what the queen said to them none of our travelers could understand, for it was in the mouse language; but the field mice obeyed without hesitation, 164 running one after the other to the scarecrow and hiding themselves in the straw of his breast. when all of the twelve mice had thus concealed themselves, the scarecrow buttoned his jacket securely and then arose and thanked the queen for her kindness. "one thing more you might do to serve us," suggested the tin woodman; "and that is to run ahead and show us the way to the emerald city. for some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it." "i will do that gladly," returned the queen. "are you ready?" the tin woodman looked at tip. "i'm rested," said the boy. "let us start." then they resumed their journey, the little grey queen of the field mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near, when away she would dart again. without this unerring guide the scarecrow and his comrades might never have gained the emerald city; for many were the obstacles thrown in their way by the arts of old mombi. yet not one of the obstacles really existed--all were cleverly contrived deceptions. for when they came to the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way the 165 little queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in safety; and our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water. again, a high wall of granite towered high above their heads and opposed their advance. but the grey field mouse walked straight through it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed it. afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow tip to rest, they saw forty roads branching off from their feet in forty different directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty wheel, first in one direction and then in the other, completely bewildering their vision. but the queen called for them to follow her and darted off in a straight line; and when they had gone a few paces the whirling pathways vanished and were seen no more. mombi's last trick was the most fearful of all. she sent a sheet of crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first time the scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly. "if that fire reaches me i will be gone in no time!" said he, trembling until his straw rattled. "it's the most dangerous thing i ever encountered." "i'm off, too!" cried the saw-horse, turning and 166 prancing with agitation; "for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings." "is fire dangerous to pumpkins?" asked jack, fearfully. "you'll be baked like a tart--and so will i!" line-art drawing answered the woggle-bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster. but the tin woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede by a few sensible words. "look at the field mouse!" he shouted. "the fire does not burn her in the least. in fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception." 167 indeed, to watch the little queen march calmly through the advancing flames restored courage to every member of the party, and they followed her without being even scorched. "this is surely a most extraordinary adventure," said the woggle-bug, who was greatly amazed; "for it upsets all the natural laws that i heard professor nowitall teach in the school-house." "of course it does," said the scarecrow, wisely. "all magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided. but i see before us the gates of the emerald city, so i imagine we have now overcome all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us." indeed, the walls of the city were plainly visible, and the queen of the field mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to bid them goodbye. "we are very grateful to your majesty for your kind assistance," said the tin woodman, bowing before the pretty creature. "i am always pleased to be of service to my friends," answered the queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home. 168 full page line-art drawing. 169 the prisoners of the queen approaching the gateway of the emerald city the travelers found it guarded by two girls of the army of revolt, who opposed their entrance by drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to prod the first that came near. but the tin woodman was not afraid." at the worst they can but scratch my beautiful nickel-plate," he said. "but there will be no 'worst,' for i think i can manage to frighten these absurd soldiers very easily. follow me closely, all of you!" then, swinging his axe in a great circle to right and left before him, he advanced upon the gate, and the others followed him without hesitation. the girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so that our 170 travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace. "at this rate we will soon have your majesty upon the throne again," said the tin woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards. "thank you, friend nick," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe." as they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat around in groups, gossiping and laughing. "what has happened?" the scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the sidewalk. "why, we've had a revolution, your majesty as you ought to know very well," replied the man; "and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. i'm glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing out the strength of every man in the emerald city." "hm!" said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "if it 171 is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?" "i really do not know" replied the man, with a deep sigh. "perhaps the women are made of castiron." no movement was made, as they passed along the street, to oppose their progress. several of the women stopped their gossip long enough to cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn away with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. and when they met with several girls belonging to the army of revolt, those soldiers, instead of being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of the way and allowed them to advance without protest. this action rendered the scarecrow uneasy." i'm afraid we are walking into a trap," said he. "nonsense!" returned nick chopper, confidently; "the silly creatures are conquered already!" but the scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed doubt, and tip said: "it's too easy, altogether. look out for trouble ahead." "i will," returned his majesty. unopposed they reached the royal palace and marched up the marble steps, which had once been 172 full page line-art drawing. "it's too easy, altogether." 173 thickly crusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the army of revolt. and so far not a rebel barred their way. through the arched hallways and into the magnificent throne room marched the tin woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight. seated within the glittering throne was general jinjur, with the scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in her right hand. a box of caramels, from which she was eating, rested in her lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings. the scarecrow stepped forward and confronted her, while the tin woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a half-circle back of his majesty's person. "how dare you sit in my throne?" demanded the scarecrow, sternly eyeing the intruder. "don't you know you are guilty of treason, and that there is a law against treason?" "the throne belongs to whoever is able to take it," answered jinjur, as she slowly ate another caramel. "i have taken it, as you see; so just now i am the queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of 174 treason, and must be punished by the law you have just mentioned." this view of the case puzzled the scarecrow. "how is it, friend nick?" he asked, turning to the tin woodman. "why, when it comes to law, i have nothing to, say" answered that personage. "for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is foolish to make the attempt." "then what shall we do?" asked the scarecrow, in dismay. "why don't you marry the queen? and then you can both rule," suggested the woggle-bug. jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. "why don't you send her back to her mother, where she belongs?" asked jack pumpkinhead. jinjur frowned. "why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and promises to be good?" enquired tip. jinjur's lip curled scornfully. "or give her a good shaking!" added the saw-horse. "no," said the tin woodman, "we must treat the poor girl with gentleness. let us give her all the jewels she can carry, and send her away happy and contented." 175 at this queen jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute clapped her pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal. "you are very absurd creatures," said she; "but i am tired of your nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer." while the monarch and his friends listened in amazement to this impudent speech, a startling thing happened. the tin woodman's axe was snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and he found himself disarmed and helpless. at the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came they found themselves surrounded by the army of revolt, the girls bearing in either hand their glistening knitting-needles. the entire throne room seemed to be filled with the rebels, and the scarecrow and his comrades realized that they were prisoners. "you see how foolish it is to oppose a woman's wit," said jinjur, gaily; "and this event only proves that i am more fit to rule the emerald city than a scarecrow. i bear you no ill will, i assure you; but lest you should prove troublesome to me in the future i shall order you all to be destroyed. that is, all except the boy, who belongs to old mombi and must be restored to her keeping. the rest of 176 you are not human, and therefore it will not be wicked to demolish you. the saw-horse and the pumpkinhead's body i will have chopped up for kindlingwood; and the pumpkin shall be made into tarts. the scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and the tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the goats. as for this immense woggle-bug--" "highly magnified, if you please!" interrupted the insect. "i think i will ask the cook to make green-turtle soup of you," continued the queen, reflectively. the woggle-bug shuddered. "or, if that won't do, we might use you for a hungarian goulash, stewed and highly spiced," she added, cruelly. this programme of extermination was so terrible that the prisoners looked upon one another in a panic of fear. the scarecrow alone did not give way to despair. he stood quietly before the queen and his brow was wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape. while thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast move gently. at once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising his hand he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket. this action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd 177 of girls clustering about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered line-art drawing away between the feet of the army of revolt. another mouse quickly followed; then another and another, in rapid succession. and suddenly such a 178 scream of terror went up from the army that it might easily have filled the stoutest heart with consternation. the flight that ensued turned to a stampede, and the stampede to a panic. for while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the girls disappeared from the palace--pushing and crowding one another in their mad efforts to escape. the queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. then a mouse ran up the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor jinjur shot clear over the head of the scarecrow and escaped through an archway--never pausing in her wild career until she had reached the city gates. so, in less time than i can explain, the throne room was deserted by all save the scarecrow and his friends, and the woggle-bug heaved a deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed: "thank goodness, we are saved!" "for a time, yes;" answered the tin woodman. "but the enemy will soon return, i fear." "let us bar all the entrances to the palace!" said the scarecrow. "then we shall have time to think what is best to be done." 179 so all except jack pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the saw-horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. then, knowing that the army of revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days, the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war. line-art drawing 180 full page line-art drawing. 181 the scarecrow takes time to think "it seems to me," began the scarecrow, when all were again assembled in the throne room, "that the girl jinjur is quite right in claiming to be queen. and if she is right, then i am wrong, and we have no business to be occupying her palace." "but you were the king until she came," said the woggle-bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you." "especially as we have just conquered her and put her to flight," added the pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward the scarecrow. "have we really conquered her?" asked the scarecrow, quietly. "look out of the window, and tell me what you see." 182 tip ran to the window and looked out. "the palace is surrounded by a double row of girl soldiers," he announced. "i thought so," returned the scarecrow. "we are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace." "my friend is right," said nick chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "jinjur is still the queen, and we are her prisoners." "but i hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. "she threatened to make tarts of me, you know." "don't worry," said the tin woodman. "it cannot matter greatly. if you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. a good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect." "very true," agreed the scarecrow. "oh, dear!" moaned jack; "what an unhappy lot is mine! why, dear father, did you not make me out of tin--or even out of straw--so that i would keep indefinitely." "shucks!" returned tip, indignantly. "you ought to be glad that i made you at all." then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come to an end, some time." 183 "but i beg to remind you," broke in the woggle-bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging, round eyes, "that this terrible queen jinjur suggested making a goulash of me--me! the only highly magnified and thoroughly educated woggle-bug in the wide, wide world!" "i think it was a brilliant idea," remarked the scarecrow, approvingly. "don't you imagine he would make a better soup?" asked the tin woodman, turning toward his friend. "well, perhaps," acknowledged the scarecrow. the woggle-bug groaned. "i can see, in my mind's eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade, the tin woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of the saw-horse and jack pumpkinhead's body, and queen jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend the scarecrow!" this morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party, making them restless and anxious. "it can't happen for some time," said the tin woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep jinjur out of the palace until she manages to break down the doors." 184 "and in the meantime i am liable to starve to death, and so is the wogglebug," announced tip. "as for me," said the woggle-bug, "i think that i could live for some time on jack pumpkinhead. not that i prefer pumpkins for food; but i believe they are somewhat nutritious, and jack's head is large and plump." "how heartless!" exclaimed the tin woodman, greatly shocked. "are we cannibals, let me ask? or are we faithful friends?" "i see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace," said the scarecrow, with decision. "so let us end this mournful talk and try to discover a means to escape." at this suggestion they all gathered eagerly around the throne, wherein was seated the scarecrow, and as tip sat down upon a stool there fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor. "what is this?" asked nick chopper, picking up the box. "be careful!" cried the boy. "that's my powder of life. don't spill it, for it is nearly gone." "and what is the powder of life?" enquired the scarecrow, as tip replaced the box carefully in his pocket. "it's some magical stuff old mombi got from a 185 crooked sorcerer," explained the boy. "she brought jack to life with it, and afterward i used it to bring the saw-horse to life. i guess it will make anything live that is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left." "then it is very precious," said the tin woodman. "indeed it is," agreed the scarecrow. "it may prove our best means of escape from our difficulties. i believe i will think for a few minutes; so i will thank you, friend tip, to get out your knife and rip this heavy crown from my forehead." tip soon cut the stitches that had fastened the crown to the scarecrow's head, and the former monarch of the emerald city removed it with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne. "that is my last memento of royalty" said he; "and i'm glad to get rid of it. the former king of this city, line-art drawing 186 who was named pastoria, lost the crown to the wonderful wizard, who passed it on to me. now the girl jinjur claims it, and i sincerely hope it will not give her a headache." "a kindly thought, which i greatly admire," said the tin woodman, nodding approvingly. "and now i will indulge in a quiet think," continued the scarecrow, lying back in the throne. the others remained as silent and still as possible, so as not to disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary brains of the scarecrow. and, after what seemed a very long time indeed to the anxious watchers, the thinker sat up, looked upon his friends with his most whimsical expression, and said: "my brains work beautifully today. i'm quite proud of them. now, listen! if we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace we shall surely be captured. and, as we can't escape through the ground, there is only one other thing to be done. we must escape through the air!" he paused to note the effect of these words; but all his hearers seemed puzzled and unconvinced. "the wonderful wizard escaped in a balloon," he continued. "we don't know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can 187 fly through the air can carry us easily. so i suggest that my friend the tin woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of a machine, with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend tip can then bring the thing to life with his magical powder." "bravo!" cried nick chopper. "what splendid brains!" murmured jack. "really quite clever!" said the educated woggle-bug. "i believe it can be done," declared tip; "that is, if the tin woodman is equal to making the thing." "i'll do my best," said nick, cheerily; "and, as a matter of fact, i do not often fail in what i attempt. but the thing will have to be built on the roof of the palace, so it can rise comfortably into the air." line-art drawing 188 "to be sure," said the scarecrow. "then let us search through the palace," continued the tin woodman, "and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where i will begin my work." "first, however," said the pumpkinhead, "i beg you will release me from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. for in my present condition i am of no use to myself or to anyone else." so the tin woodman knocked a mahogany center-table to pieces with his axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved, on to the body of jack pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition. "it seems strange," said he, as he watched the tin woodman work, "that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me." "that proves you are unusual," returned the scarecrow. "and i am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. for the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed." "spoken like a philosopher!" cried the woggle-bug, as he assisted the tin woodman to set jack upon his feet. "how do you feel now?" asked tip, watching 189 the pumpkinhead stump around to try his new leg." as good as new" answered jack, joyfully, "and quite ready to assist you all to escape." "then let us get to work," said the scarecrow, in a business-like tone. so, glad to be doing anything that might lead to the end of their captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace in search of fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine. line-art drawing 190 full page line-art drawing. 191 the astonishing flight of the gump when the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was found that a remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by the various members of the party. no one seemed to have a very clear idea of what was required, but all had brought something. the woggle-bug had taken from its position over the mantle-piece in the great hallway the head of a gump, which was adorned with wide-spreading antlers; and this, with great care and greater difficulty, the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. this gump resembled an elk's head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and there were whiskers 192 upon its chin, like those of a billy-goat. why the woggle-bug selected this article he could not have explained, except that it had aroused his curiosity. tip, with the aid of the saw-horse, had brought a large, upholstered sofa to the roof. it was an oldfashioned piece of furniture, with high back and ends, and it was so heavy that even by resting the greatest weight upon the back of the saw-horse, the boy found himself out of breath when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof. the pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was the first thing he saw. the scarecrow arrived with a coil of clothes-lines and ropes which he had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had become so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he and his burden tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if tip had not rescued him. the tin woodman appeared last. he also had been to the courtyard, where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge palm-tree that was the pride of all the inhabitants of the emerald city. "my dear nick!" exclaimed the scarecrow, seeing what his friend had done; "you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in the emerald city. if i remember rightly, the 193 full page line-art drawing. all brought something to the roof. 194 penalty for chopping leaves from the royal palm-tree is to be killed seven times and afterward imprisoned for life." "it cannot be helped now" answered the tin woodman, throwing down the big leaves upon the roof. "but it may be one more reason why it is necessary for us to escape. and now let us see what you have found for me to work with." many were the doubtful looks cast upon the heap of miscellaneous material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the scarecrow shook his head and remarked: "well, if friend nick can manufacture, from this mess of rubbish, a thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety, then i will acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than i suspected." but the tin woodman seemed at first by no means sure of his powers, and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the chamois-leather did he resolve to undertake the task. "the first thing required for the machine," said he, "is a body big enough to carry the entire party. this sofa is the biggest thing we have, and might be used for a body. but, should the machine ever tip sideways, we would all slide off and fall to the ground." 195 "why not use two sofas?" asked tip. "there's another one just like this down stairs." "that is a very sensible suggestion," exclaimed the tin woodman. "you must fetch the other sofa at once." so tip and the saw-horse managed, with much labor, to get the second sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats. "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "we can ride within this snug nest quite at our ease." the two sofas were now bound firmly together with ropes and clothes-lines, and then nick chopper fastened the gump's head to one end. "that will show which is the front end of the thing," said he, greatly pleased with the idea." and, really, if you examine it critically, the gump looks very well as a figure-head. these great palm-leaves, for which i have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings." "are they strong enough?" asked the boy. "they are as strong as anything we can get," answered the woodman; "and although they are not in proportion to the thing's body, we are not in a position to be very particular." 196 so he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side. said the woggle-bug, with considerable admiration: "the thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life." "stop a moment!" exclaimed jack." are you not going to use my broom?" "what for?" asked the scarecrow. "why, it can be fastened to the back end for a tail," answered the pumpkinhead. "surely you would not call the thing complete without a tail." "hm!" said the tin woodman, "i do not see the use of a tail. we are not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. all we ask of the thing is to carry us through the air. "perhaps, after the thing is brought to life, it can use a tail to steer with," suggested the scarecrow. "for if it flies through the air it will not be unlike a bird, and i've noticed that all birds have tails, which they use for a rudder while flying." "very well," answered nick, "the broom shall be used for a tail," and he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body. tip took the pepper-box from his pocket. "the thing looks very big," said he, anxiously; 197 "and i am not sure there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. but i'll make it go as far as possible." "put most on the wings," said nick chopper; "for they must be made as strong as possible." "and don't forget the head!" exclaimed the woggle-bug. "or the tail!" added jack pumpkinhead. "do be quiet," said tip, nervously; "you must give me a chance to work the magic charm in the proper manner." very carefully he began sprinkling the thing with the precious powder. each of the four wings was first lightly covered with a layer. then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating. "the head! the head! don't, i beg of you, forget the head!" cried the woggle-bug, excitedly. "there's only a little of the powder left," announced tip, looking within the box." and it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs of the sofas to life than the head." "not so," decided the scarecrow. "every thing must have a head to direct it; and since this creature is to fly, and not walk, it is really unimportant whether its legs are alive or not." so tip abided by this decision and sprinkled the gump's head with the remainder of the powder. 198 "now" said he, "keep silence while i work the, charm!" having heard old mombi pronounce the magic words, and having also succeeded in bringing the saw-horse to life, tip did not hesitate an instant in speaking the three cabalistic words, each accompanied by the peculiar gesture of the hands. it was a grave and impressive ceremony. as he finished the incantation the thing shuddered throughout its huge bulk, the gump gave the screeching cry that is familiar to those animals, and then the four wings began flopping furiously. tip managed to grasp a chimney, else he would have been blown off the roof by the terrible breeze raised by the wings. the scarecrow, being light in weight, was caught up bodily and borne through the air until tip luckily seized him by one leg and held him fast. the woggle-bug lay flat upon the roof and so escaped harm, line-art drawing 199 and the tin woodman, whose weight of tin anchored him firmly, threw both arms around jack pumpkinhead and managed to save him. the saw-horse toppled over upon his back and lay with his legs waving helplessly above him. and now, while all were struggling to recover themselves, the thing rose slowly from the roof and mounted into the air. "here! come back!" cried tip, in a frightened voice, as he clung to the chimney with one hand and the scarecrow with the other. "come back at once, i command you!" it was now that the wisdom of the scarecrow, in bringing the head of the thing to life instead of the legs, was proved beyond a doubt. for the gump, already high in the air, turned its head at tip's command and gradually circled around until it could view the roof of the palace. "come back!" shouted the boy, again. and the gump obeyed, slowly and gracefully waving its four wings in the air until the thing had settled once more upon the roof and become still. 200 full page line-art drawing. 201 in the jackdaw's nest "this," said the gump, in a squeaky voice not at all proportioned to the size of its great body, "is the most novel experience i ever heard of. the last thing i remember distinctly is walking through the forest and hearing a loud noise. something probably killed me then, and it certainly ought to have been the end of me. yet here i am, alive again, with four monstrous wings and a body which i venture to say would make any respectable animal or fowl weep with shame to own. what does it all mean? am i a gump, or am i a juggernaut?" the creature, as it spoke, wiggled its chin whiskers in a very comical manner. "you're just a thing," answered tip, "with a gump's head on it. and we have made you and brought you to life so that you may carry us through the air wherever we wish to go." 202 "very good!" said the thing. "as i am not a gump, i cannot have a gump's pride or independent spirit. so i may as well become your servant as anything else. my only satisfaction is that i do not seem to have a very strong constitution, and am not likely to live long in a state of slavery." "don't say that, i beg of you!" cried the tin woodman, whose excellent heart was strongly affected by this sad speech." are you not feeling well today?" "oh, as for that," returned the gump, "it is my first day of existence; so i cannot judge whether i am feeling well or ill." and it waved its broom tail to and fro in a pensive manner. "come, come!" said the scarecrow, kindly. "do try, to be more cheerful and take life as you find it. we shall be kind masters, and will strive to render your existence as pleasant as possible. are you willing to carry us through the air wherever we wish to go?" "certainly," answered the gump. "i greatly prefer to navigate the air. for should i travel on the earth and meet with one of my own species, my embarrassment would be something awful!" "i can appreciate that," said the tin woodman, sympathetically. "and yet," continued the thing, "when i carefully 203 look you over, my masters, none of you seems to be constructed much more artistically than i am." "appearances are deceitful," said the woggle-bug, earnestly. "i am both highly magnified and thoroughly educated." "indeed!" murmured the gump, indifferently. "and my brains are considered remarkably rare specimens," added the scarecrow, proudly. "how strange!" remarked the gump. "although i am of tin," said the woodman, "i own a heart altogether the warmest and most admirable in the whole world." "i'm delighted to hear it," replied the gump, with a slight cough. "my smile," said jack pumpkinhead, "is worthy your best attention. it is always the same." "semper idem," explained the woggle-bug, pompously; and the gump turned to stare at him. "and i," declared the saw-horse, filling in an awkward pause, "am only remarkable because i can't help it." "i am proud, indeed, to meet with such exceptional masters," said the gump, in a careless tone. "if i could but secure so complete an introduction to myself, i would be more than satisfied." "that will come in time," remarked the scare204 crow. "to 'know thyself' is considered quite an accomplishment, which it has taken us, who are your elders, months to perfect. but now," he added, turning to the others, "let us get aboard and start upon our journey." "where shall we go?" asked tip, as he clambered to a seat on the sofas and assisted the pumpkinhead to follow him. "in the south country rules a very delightful queen called glinda the good, who i am sure will gladly receive us," said the scarecrow, getting into the thing clumsily. "let us go to her and ask her advice." "that is cleverly thought of," declared nick chopper, giving the woggle-bug a boost and then toppling the saw-horse into the rear end of the cushioned seats." i know glinda the good, and believe she will prove a friend indeed." "are we all ready?" asked the boy. "yes," announced the tin woodman, seating himself beside the scarecrow. "then," said tip, addressing the gump, "be kind enough to fly with us to the southward; and do not go higher than to escape the houses and trees, for it makes me dizzy to be up so far." "all right," answered the gump, briefly. 205 it flopped its four huge wings and rose slowly into the air; and then, while our little band of adventurers clung to the backs and sides of the sofas for support, the gump turned toward the south and soared swiftly and majestically away. "the scenic effect, from this altitude, is marvelous," commented the educated woggle-bug, as they rode along. "never mind the scenery," said the scarecrow. "hold on tight, or you may get a tumble. the thing seems to rock badly.' "it will be dark soon," said tip, observing that the sun was low on the horizon. "perhaps we should have waited until morning. i wonder if the gump can fly in the night." "i've been wondering that myself," returned the gump quietly. "you see, this is a new experience to me. i used to have legs that carried me swiftly over the ground. but now my legs feel as if they were asleep." "they are," said tip. "we didn't bring 'em to life." "you're expected to fly," explained the scarecrow. "not to walk." "we can walk ourselves," said the woggle-bug." i begin to understand what is required of me," remarked the gump; "so i will do my best to 206 please you," and he flew on for a time in silence. presently jack pumpkinhead became uneasy. "i wonder if riding through the air is liable to spoil pumpkins," he said. "not unless you carelessly drop your head over the side," answered the woggle-bug. "in that event your head would no longer be a pumpkin, for it would become a squash." "have i not asked you to restrain these unfeeling jokes?" demanded tip, looking at the woggle-bug with a severe expression. "you have; and i've restrained a good many of them," replied the insect. "but there are opportunities for so many excellent puns in our language that, to an educated person like myself, the temptation to express them is almost irresistible." "people with more or less education discovered those puns centuries ago," said tip. "are you sure?" asked the woggle-bug, with a startled look. "of course i am," answered the boy. "an educated woggle-bug may be a new thing; but a woggle-bug education is as old as the hills, judging from the display you make of it." the insect seemed much impressed by this remark, and for a time maintained a meek silence. 207 the scarecrow, in shifting his seat, saw upon the cushions the pepper-box which tip had cast aside, and began to examine it. "throw it overboard," said the boy; "it's quite empty now, and there's no use keeping it." "is it really empty?" asked the scarecrow, looking curiously into the box. "of course it is," answered tip. "i shook out every grain of the powder. "then the box has two bottoms," announced the scarecrow, "for the bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside." "let me see," said the tin woodman, taking the box from his friend. "yes," he declared, after looking it over, "the thing certainly has a false bottom. now, i wonder what that is for?" "can't you get it apart, and find out?" enquired tip, now quite interested in the mystery. "why, yes; the lower bottom unscrews," said the tin woodman. "my fingers are rather stiff; please see if you can open it." he handed the pepper-box to tip, who had no difficulty in unscrewing the bottom. and in the cavity below were three silver pills, with a carefully folded paper lying underneath them. this paper the boy proceeded to unfold, taking 208 care not to spill the pills, and found several lines clearly written in red ink. "read it aloud," said the scarecrow. so tip read, as follows: "dr. nikidik's celebrated wishing pills. "directions for use: swallow one pill; count seventeen by twos; then make a wish. -the wish will immediately be granted. caution: keep in a dry and dark place." "why, this is a very valuable discovery!" cried the scarecrow. "it is, indeed," replied tip, gravely. "these pills may be of great use to us. i wonder if old mombi knew they were in the bottom of the pepper-box. i remember hearing her say that she got the powder of life from this same nikidik." "he must be a powerful sorcerer!" exclaimed the tin woodman; "and since the powder proved a success we ought to have confidence in the pills." "but how," asked the scarecrow, "can anyone count seventeen by twos? seventeen is an odd number." "that is true," replied tip, greatly disappointed. "no one can possibly count seventeen by twos." "then the pills are of no use to us," wailed the pumpkinhead; "and this fact overwhelms me with 209 grief. for i had intended wishing that my head would never spoil." "nonsense!" said the scarecrow, sharply. "if we could use the pills at all we would make far better wishes than that." "i do not see how anything could be better," protested poor jack. "if you were liable to spoil at any time you could understand my anxiety." "for my part," said the tin woodman, "i sympathize with you in every respect. but since we cannot count seventeen by twos, sympathy is all you are liable to get." by this time it had become quite dark, and the voyagers found above them a cloudy sky, through which the rays of the moon could not penetrate. the gump flew steadily on, and for some reason the huge sofa-body rocked more and more dizzily every hour. the woggle-bug declared he was sea-sick; and tip was also pale and somewhat distressed. but the others clung to the backs of the sofas and did not seem to mind the motion as long as they were not tipped out. darker and darker grew the night, and on and on sped the gump through the black heavens. the 210 travelers could not even see one another, and an oppressive silence settled down upon them. after a long time tip, who had been thinking deeply, spoke. "how are we to know when we come to the pallace of glinda the good?" he asked. "it's a long way to glinda's palace," answered the woodman; "i've traveled it." "but how are we to know how fast the gump is flying?" persisted the boy. "we cannot see a single thing down on the earth, and before morning we may be far beyond the place we want to reach." "that is all true enough," the scarecrow replied, a little uneasily. "but i do not see how we can stop just now; for we might alight in a river, or on, the top of a steeple; and that would be a great disaster." so they permitted the gump to fly on, with regular flops of its great wings, and waited patiently for morning. then tip's fears were proven to be well founded; for with the first streaks of gray dawn they looked over the sides of the sofas and discovered rolling plains dotted with queer villages, where the houses, instead of being domeshaped--as they all are in the land of oz--had slanting roofs that rose to a peak 211 in the center. odd looking animals were also moving about upon the open plains, and the country was unfamiliar to both the tin woodman and the scarecrow, who had formerly visited glinda the good's domain and knew it well. "we are lost!" said the scarecrow, dolefully. "the gump must have carried us entirely out of the land of oz and over the sandy deserts and into the terrible outside world that dorothy told us about." "we must get back," exclaimed the tin woodman, earnestly. "we must get back as soon as possible!" "turn around!" cried tip to the gump. "turn as quickly as you can!" "if i do i shall upset," answered the gump. "i'm not at all used to flying, and the best plan would be for me to alight in some place, and then i can turn around and take a fresh start." just then, however, there seemed to be no stopping-place that would answer their purpose. they flew over a village so big that the woggle-bug declared it was a city. and then they came to a range of high mountains with many deep gorges and steep cliffs showing plainly. "now is our chance to stop," said the boy, finding 212 they were very close to the mountain tops. then he turned to the gump and commanded: "stop at the first level place you see!" "very well," answered the gump, and settled down upon a table of rock that stood between two cliffs. but not being experienced in such matters, the gump did not judge his speed correctly; and instead of coming to a stop upon the flat rock he missed it by half the width of his body, breaking off both his right wings against the sharp edge of the rock and then tumbling over and over down the cliff. our friends held on to the sofas as long as they could, but when the gump caught on a projecting rock the thing stopped suddenly--bottom side up--and all were immediately dumped out. by good fortune they fell only a few feet; for underneath them was a monster nest, built by a colony of jackdaws in a hollow ledge of rock; so none of them--not even the pumpkinhead--was injured by the fall. for jack found his precious head resting on the soft breast of the scarecrow, which made an excellent cushion; and tip fell on a mass of leaves and papers, which saved him from injury. the woggle-bug had bumped his round head against 213 full page line-art drawing. all were immediately dumped out. 214 the saw-horse, but without causing him more than a moment's inconvenience. the tin woodman was at first much alarmed; but finding he had escaped without even a scratch upon his beautiful nickle-plate he at once regained his accustomed cheerfulness and turned to address his comrades. "our journey had ended rather suddenly," said he; "and we cannot justly blame our friend the gump for our accident, because he did the best he could under the circumstances. but how we are ever to escape from this nest i must leave to someone with better brains than i possess." here he gazed at the scarecrow; who crawled to the edge of the nest and looked over. below them was a sheer precipice several hundred feet in depth. above them was a smooth cliff unbroken save by the point of rock where the wrecked body of the gump still hung suspended from the end of one of the sofas. there really seemed to be no means of escape, and as they realized their helpless plight the little band of adventurers gave way to their bewilderment. "this is a worse prison than the palace," sadly remarked the woggle-bug. "i wish we had stayed there," moaned jack. 215 "i'm afraid the mountain air isn't good for pumpkins." "it won't be when the jackdaws come back," growled the saw-horse, which lay waving its legs in a vain endeavor to get upon its feet again. "jackdaws are especially fond of pumpkins." "do you think the birds will come here?" asked jack, much distressed. "of course they will," said tip; "for this is their nest. and there must be hundreds of them," he continued, "for see what a lot of things they have brought here!" indeed, the nest was half filled with a most curious collection of small articles for which the birds could have no use, but which the thieving jackdaws had stolen during many years from the homes of men. and as the nest was safely hidden where no human being could reach it, this lost property would never be recovered. the woggle-bug, searching among the rubbish--for the jackdaws stole useless things as well as valuable ones--turned up with his foot a beautiful diamond necklace. this was so greatly admired by the tin woodman that the woggle-bug presented it to him with a graceful speech, after which the woodman hung it around his neck with much pride, 216 full page line-art drawing. turned up a beautiful diamond necklace. 217 rejoicing exceedingly when the big diamonds glittered in the sun's rays. but now they heard a great jabbering and flopping of wings, and as the sound grew nearer to them tip exclaimed: "the jackdaws are coming! and if they find us here they will surely kill us in their anger." "i was afraid of this!" moaned the pumpkinhead. "my time has come!" "and mine, also!" said the woggle-bug; "for jackdaws are the greatest enemies of my race." the others were not at all afraid; but the scarecrow at once decided to save those of the party who were liable to be injured by the angry birds. so he commanded tip to take off jack's head and lie down with it in the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered the woggle-bug to lie beside tip. nick chopper, who knew from past experience just what to do, then took the scarecrow to pieces (all except his head) and scattered the straw over tip and the woggle-bug, completely covering their bodies. hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of jackdaws reached them. perceiving the intruders in their nest the birds flew down upon them with screams of rage. 218 full page line-art drawing. 219 dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills the tin woodman was usually a peaceful man, but when occasion required he could fight as fiercely as a roman gladiator. so, when the jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and their sharp beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant plating, the woodman picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head. but although many were beaten off in this way, the birds were so numerous and so brave that they continued the attack as furiously as before. some of them pecked at the eyes of the gump, which hung over the nest in a helpless condition; but the gump's eyes were of glass and could not be injured. others of the jackdaws rushed at the saw-horse; but that animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the woodman's axe. 220 finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the scarecrow's straw, which lay at the center of the nest, covering tip and the woggle-bug and jack's pumpkin head, and began tearing it away and flying off with it, only to let it drop, straw by straw into the great gulf beneath. the scarecrow's head, noting with dismay this wanton destruction of his interior, cried to the tin woodman to save him; and that good friend responded with renewed energy. his axe fairly flashed among the jackdaws, and fortunately the gump began wildly waving the two wings remaining on the left side of its body. the flutter of these great wings filled the jackdaws with terror, and when the gump by its exertions freed itself from the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping into the nest, the alarm of the birds knew no bounds and they fled screaming over the mountains. when the last foe had disappeared, tip crawled from under the sofas and assisted the woggle-bug to follow him. "we are saved!" shouted the boy, delightedly. "we are, indeed!" responded the educated insect, fairly hugging the stiff head of the gump in his joy. "and we owe it all to the flopping of the thing, and the good axe of the woodman!" 221 "if i am saved, get me out of here!" called jack; whose head was still beneath the sofas; and tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon its neck again. he also set the saw-horse upright, and said to it: "we owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made." "i really think we have escaped very nicely," remarked the tin woodman, in a tone of pride. "not so!" exclaimed a hollow voice. at this they all turned in surprise to look at the scarecrow's head, which lay at the back of the nest. "i am completely ruined!" declared the scarecrow, as he noted their astonishment. "for where is the straw that stuffs my body?" the awful question startled them all. they gazed around the nest with horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. the 222 jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest. "my poor, poor friend!" said the tin woodman, taking up the scarecrow's head and caressing it tenderly; "whoever could imagine you would come to this untimely end?" "i did it to save my friends," returned the head; "and i am glad that i perished in so noble and unselfish a manner." "but why are you all so despondent?" inquired the woggle-bug. "the scarecrow's clothing is still safe." "yes," answered the tin woodman; "but our friend's clothes are useless without stuffing." "why not stuff him with money?" asked tip. "money!" they all cried, in an amazed chorus. "to be sure," said the boy. "in the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills--and two-dollar bills--and five-dollar bills--and tens, and twenties, and fifties. there are enough of them to stuff a dozen scarecrows. why not use the money?" the tin woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, 223 which the mischievous jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited. there was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and tip's suggestion was, with the scarecrow's consent, quickly acted upon. they selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. the scarecrow's left leg and boot were stuffed with fivedollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and one-thousands that he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort. "you are now" said the woggle-bug, impressively, when the task had been completed, "the most valuable member of our party; and as you line-art drawing 224 are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent." "thank you," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "i feel like a new man; and although at first glance i might be mistaken for a safety deposit vault, i beg you to remember that my brains are still composed of the same old material. and these are the possessions that have always made me a person to be depended upon in an emergency." "well, the emergency is here," observed tip; "and unless your brains help us out of it we shall be compelled to pass the remainder of our lives in this nest." "how about these wishing pills?" enquired the scarecrow, taking the box from his jacket pocket. "can't we use them to escape?" "not unless we can count seventeen by twos," answered the tin woodman. "but our friend the woggle-bug claims to be highly educated, so he ought easily to figure out how that can be done." "it isn't a question of education," returned the insect; "it's merely a question of mathematics. i've seen the professor work lots of sums on the blackboard, and he claimed anything could be done with x's and y's and a's, and such things, by mixing them up with plenty of plusses and minuses and equals, and so forth. but he never said anything, so far as 225 i can remember, about counting up to the odd number of seventeen by the even numbers of twos." "stop! stop!" cried the pumpkinhead. "you're making my head ache." "and mine," added the scarecrow. "your mathematics seem to me very like a bottle of mixed pickles the more you fish for what you want the less chance you have of getting it. i am certain that if the thing can be accomplished at all, it is in a very simple manner." "yes," said tip. "old mombi couldn't use x's and minuses, for she never went to school." "why not start counting at a half of one?" asked the saw-horse, abruptly. "then anyone can count up to seventeen by twos very easily." they looked at each other in surprise, for the saw-horse was considered the most stupid of the entire party. "you make me quite ashamed of myself," said the scarecrow, bowing low to the saw-horse. "nevertheless, the creature is right," declared the woggle-bug; for twice one-half is one, and if you get to one it is easy to count from one up to seventeen by twos." "i wonder i didn't think of that myself," said the pumpkinhead. 226 "i don't," returned the scarecrow. "you're no wiser than the rest of us, are you? but let us make a wish at once. who will swallow the first pill?" "suppose you do it," suggested tip. "i can't," said the scarecrow. "why not? you've a mouth, haven't you?" asked the boy. "yes; but my mouth is painted on, and there's no swallow connected with it,' answered the scarecrow. "in fact," he continued, looking from one to another critically, "i believe the boy and the woggle-bug are the only ones in our party that are able to swallow." observing the truth of this remark, tip said: "then i will undertake to make the first wish. give me one of the silver pills." this the scarecrow tried to do; but his padded gloves were too clumsy to clutch so small an object, and he held the box toward the boy while tip selected one of the pills and swallowed it. "count!" cried the scarecrow. "one-half, one, three, five, seven, nine, eleven,!" counted tip. thirteen, fifteen, seventeen. "now wish!" said the tin woodman anxiously: but just then the boy began to suffer such fearful pains that he became alarmed. 227 "the pill has poisoned me!" he gasped; "o--h! o-o-o-o-o! ouch! murder! fire! o-o-h!" and here he rolled upon the bottom of the nest in such contortions that he frightened them all. "what can we do for you. speak, i beg!" entreated the tin woodman, tears of sympathy running down his nickel cheeks. "i--i don't know!" answered tip. "o--h! i wish i'd never swallowed that pill!" then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again and found the scarecrow looking with amazement at the end of the pepper-box. "what's happened?" asked the boy, a little ashamed of his recent exhibition. "why, the three pills are in the box again!" said the scarecrow. "of course they are," the woggle-bug declared. "didn't tip wish that he'd never swallowed one of them? well, the wish came true, and he didn't swallow one of them. so of course they are all three in the box." "that may be; but the pill gave me a dreadful pain, just the same," said the boy. "impossible!" declared the woggle line-art drawing 228 bug. "if you have never swallowed it, the pill can not have given you a pain. and as your wish, being granted, proves you did not swallow the pill, it is also plain that you suffered no pain." "then it was a splendid imitation of a pain," retorted tip, angrily. "suppose you try the next pill yourself. we've wasted one wish already." "oh, no, we haven't!" protested the scarecrow. "here are still three pills in the box, and each pill is good for a wish." "now you're making my head ache," said tip. "i can't understand the thing at all. but i won't take another pill, i promise you!" and with this remark he retired sulkily to the back of the nest. "well," said the woggle-bug, "it remains for me to save us in my most highly magnified and thoroughly educated manner; for i seem to be the only one able and willing to make a wish. let me have one of the pills." he swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood admiring his courage while the insect counted seventeen by twos in the same way that tip had done. and for some reason--perhaps because woggle-bugs have stronger stomachs than boys--the silver pellet caused it no pain whatever. "i wish the gump's broken wings mended, and 229 as good as new!" said the woggle-bug, in a slow; impressive voice. all turned to look at the thing, and so quickly had the wish been granted that the gump lay before them in perfect repair, and as well able to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to life on the roof of the palace. line-art drawing 230 full page line-art drawing. 231 the scarecrow appeals to glinda the good "hooray!" shouted the scarecrow, gaily. "we can now leave this miserable jackdaws' nest whenever we please." "but it is nearly dark," said the tin woodman; "and unless we wait until morning to make our flight we may get into more trouble. i don't like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen." so it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused themselves in the twilight by searching the jackdaws' nest for treasures. the woggle-bug found two handsome bracelets of wrought gold, which fitted his slender arms very well. the scarecrow took a fancy for rings, of which there were many in the nest. before long he 232 had fitted a ring to each finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with that display he added one more to each thumb. as he carefully chose those rings set with sparkling stones, such as rubies, amethysts and sapphires, the scarecrow's hands now presented a most brilliant appearance. "this nest would be a picnic for queen jinjur," said he, musingly. "for as nearly as i can make out she and her girls conquered me merely to rob my city of its emeralds." the tin woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused to accept any additional decorations; but tip secured a fine gold watch, which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket with much pride. he also pinned several jeweled brooches to jack pumpkinhead's red waistcoat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a fine chain, to the neck of the saw-horse. "it's very pretty," said the creature, regarding the lorgnette approvingly; "but what is it for?" none of them could answer that question, however; so the saw-horse decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it. that none of the party might be slighted, they ended by placing several large seal rings upon the points of the gump's antlers, although that odd 233 personage seemed by no means gratified by the attention. darkness soon fell upon them, and tip and the woggle-bug went to sleep while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day. next morning they had cause to congratulate themselves upon the useful condition of the gump; for with daylight a great flock of jackdaws approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest. but our adventurers did not wait for the assault. they tumbled into the cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and tip gave the word to the gump to start. at once it rose into the air, the great wings flopping strongly and with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the nest that the chattering jackdaws took possession without any attempt at pursuit. the thing flew due north, going in the same direction from whence it had come. at least, that was the scarecrow's opinion, and the others agreed that the scarecrow was the best judge of direction. after passing over several cities and villages the gump carried them high above a broad plain where houses became more and more scattered until they 234 disappeared altogether. next came the wide, sandy desert separating the rest of the world from the land of oz, and before noon they saw the dome-shaped houses that proved they were once more within the borders of their native land. "but the houses and fences are blue," said the tin woodman, "and that indicates we are in the land of the munchkins, and therefore a long distance from glinda the good." "what shall we do?" asked the boy, turning to their guide. "i don't know" replied the scarecrow, frankly. "if we were at the emerald city we could then move directly southward, and so reach our destination. but we dare not go to the emerald city, and the gump is probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of its wings." "then the woggle-bug must swallow another pill," said tip, decidedly, "and wish us headed in the right direction." "very well," returned the highly magnified one; "i'm willing." but when the scarecrow searched in his pocket for the pepper-box containing the two silver wishing pills, it was not to be found. filled with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the 235 thing for the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely. and still the gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where. "i must have left the pepper-box in the jackdaws' nest," said the scarecrow, at length. "it is a great misfortune," the tin woodman declared. "but we are no worse off than before we discovered the wishing pills." "we are better off," replied tip. "for the one pill we used has enabled us to escape from that horrible nest." "yet the loss of the other two is serious, and i deserve a good scolding for my carelessness," the scarecrow rejoined, penitently. "for in such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen any moment, and even now we may be approaching a new danger." no one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued. the gump flew steadily on. suddenly tip uttered an exclamation of surprise. "we must have reached the south country," he cried, "for below us everything is red!" immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look--all except jack, who was too careful 236 of his pumpkin head to risk its slipping off his neck. sure enough; the red houses and fences and trees indicated they were within the domain of glinda the good; and presently, as they glided rapidly on, the tin woodman recognized the roads and buildings they passed, and altered slightly the flight of line-art drawing 237 the gump so that they might reach the palace of the celebrated sorceress. "good!" cried the scarecrow, delightedly. "we do not need the lost wishing pills now, for we have arrived at our destination." gradually the thing sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length it came to rest within the beautiful gardens of glinda, settling upon a velvety green lawn close by a fountain which sent sprays of flashing gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell with a soft, tinkling sound into the carved marble basin placed to receive them. everything was very gorgeous in glinda's gardens, and while our voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a company of soldiers silently appeared and surrounded them. but these soldiers of the great sorceress were entirely different from those of jinjur's army of revolt, although they were likewise girls. for glinda's soldiers wore neat uniforms and bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and precision that proved them well trained in the arts of war. the captain commanding this troop--which was glinda's private body guard--recognized the scarecrow and the tin woodman at once, and greeted them with respectful salutations. 238 "good day!" said the scarecrow, gallantly removing his hat, while the woodman gave a soldierly salute; "we have come to request an audience with your fair ruler." "glinda is now within her palace, awaiting you," returned the captain; "for she saw you coming long before you arrived." "that is strange!" said tip, wondering. "not at all," answered the scarecrow, "for glinda the good is a mighty sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the land of oz escapes her notice. i suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves." "then what was the use of our coming?" asked jack, stupidly. "to prove you are a pumpkinhead!" retorted the scarecrow. "but, if the sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting." line-art drawing 239 so they all clambered out of the sofas and followed the captain toward the palace--even the saw-horse taking his place in the queer procession. upon her throne of finely wrought gold sat glinda, and she could scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed before her. both the scarecrow and the tin woodman she knew and liked; but the awkward pumpkinhead and highly magnified woggle-bug were creatures she had never seen before, and they seemed even more curious than the others. as for the saw-horse, he looked to be nothing more than an animated chunk of wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his head bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which glinda frankly joined. "i beg to announce to your glorious highness," began the scarecrow, in a solemn voice, "that my emerald city has been overrun by a crowd of impudent girls with knitting-needles, who have enslaved all the men, robbed the streets and public buildings of all their emerald jewels, and usurped my throne." "i know it," said glinda. "they also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends and allies you see before you," continued the scarecrow. "and had we not managed 240 to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended." "i know it," repeated glinda. "therefore i have come to beg your assistance," resumed the scarecrow, "for i believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and oppressed." "that is true," replied the sorceress, slowly. "but the emerald city is now ruled by general jinjur, who has caused herself to be proclaimed queen. what right have i to oppose her?" "why, she stole the throne from me," said the scarecrow. "and how came you to possess the throne?" asked glinda. "i got it from the wizard of oz, and by the choice of the people," returned the scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning. "and where did the wizard get it?" she continued gravely. "i am told he took it from pastoria, the former king," said the scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the sorceress. "then," declared glinda, "the throne of the emerald city belongs neither to you nor to jinjur, but to this pastoria from whom the wizard usurped it." "that is true," acknowledged the scarecrow, 241 humbly; "but pastoria is now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place." "pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the emerald city. did you know that?" questioned the sorceress. "no," replied the scarecrow. "but if the girl still lives i will not stand in her way. it will satisfy me as well to have jinjur turned out, as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. in fact, it isn't much fun to be king, especially if one has good brains. i have known for some time that i am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. but where is the girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?" "her name is ozma," answered glinda. "but where she is i have tried in vain to discover. for the wizard of oz, when he stole the throne from ozma's father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a magical trick with which i am not familiar he also managed to prevent her being discovered--even by so experienced a sorceress as myself." "that is strange," interrupted the woggle-bug, pompously. "i have been informed that the wonderful wizard of oz was nothing more than a humbug!" 242 "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow, much provoked by this speech. "didn't he give me a wonderful set of brains?" "there's no humbug about my heart," announced the tin woodman, glaring indignantly at the woggle-bug. "perhaps i was misinformed," stammered the insect, shrinking back; "i never knew the wizard personally." "well, we did," retorted the scarecrow, "and he was a very great wizard, i assure you. it is true he was guilty of some slight impostures, but unless he was a great wizard how--let me ask--could he have hidden this girl ozma so securely that no one can find her?" "i--i give it up!" replied the woggle-bug, meekly. "that is the most sensible speech you've made," said the tin woodman. "i must really make another effort to discover where this girl is hidden," resumed the sorceress, thoughtfully. "i have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the wizard while he was in our land of oz--or, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. this book i will read carefully tonight, and try to single out the acts that may guide us in discovering the lost ozma. in 243 the meantime, pray amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your own. i will grant you another audience tomorrow." with this gracious speech glinda dismissed the adventurers, and they wandered away through the beautiful gardens, where they passed several hours enjoying all the delightful things with which the queen of the southland had surrounded her royal palace. on the following morning they again appeared before glinda, who said to them: "i have searched carefully through the records of the wizard's actions, and among them i can find but three that appear to have been suspicious. he ate beans with a knife, made three secret visits to old mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot." "ah! that last is certainly suspicious!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead. "not necessarily," said the scarecrow. "he may, have had corns. now, it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious." "perhaps it is a polite custom in omaha, from which great country the wizard originally came," suggested the tin woodman. "it may be," admitted the scarecrow. 244 "but why," asked glinda, "did he make three secret visits to old mombi?" "ah! why, indeed!" echoed the woggle-bug, impressively. "we know that the wizard taught the old woman many of his tricks of magic," continued glinda; "and this he would not have done had she not assisted him in some way. so we may suspect with good reason that mombi aided him to hide the girl ozma, who was the real heir to the throne of the emerald city, and a constant danger to the usurper. for, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their queen and restore her to her rightful position." "an able argument!" cried the scarecrow. "i have no doubt that mombi was mixed up in this wicked business. but how does that knowledge help us?" "we must find mombi," replied glinda, "and force her to tell where the girl is hidden." "mombi is now with queen jinjur, in the emerald, city" said tip. "it was she who threw so many obstacles in our pathway, and made jinjur threaten to destroy my friends and give me back into the old witch's power." "then," decided glinda, "i will march with my 245 army to the emerald city, and take mombi prisoner. after that we can, perhaps, force her to tell the truth about ozma." "she is a terrible old woman!" remarked tip, with a shudder at the thought of mombi's black kettle; "and obstinate, too." "i am quite obstinate myself," returned the sorceress, with a sweet smile. "so i do not fear mombi in the least. today i will make all necessary preparations, and we will march upon the emerald city at daybreak tomorrow." line-art drawing 246 the tin-woodman plucks a rose the army of glinda the good looked very grand and imposing when it assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. the uniforms of the girl soldiers were pretty and of gay colors, and their silver-tipped spears were bright and glistening, the long shafts being inlaid with mother-of-pearl. all the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields edged with peacock-feathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by any possibility defeat such a brilliant army. the sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like the body of a coach, having doors and 247 windows with silken curtains; but instead of wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long, horizontal bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants. the scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the gump, in order to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as soon as glinda had started and her soldiers had marched away to the inspiring strains of music played by the royal band, our friends climbed into the sofas and followed. the gump flew along slowly at a point directly over the palanquin in which rode the sorceress. "be careful," said the line-art drawing 248 tin woodman to the scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. "you might fall." "it wouldn't matter," remarked the educated woggle-bug. "he can't get broke so long as he is stuffed with money." "didn't i ask you" began tip, in a reproachful voice. "you did!" said the woggle-bug, promptly. "and i beg your pardon. i will really try to restrain myself." "you'd better," declared the boy. "that is, if you wish to travel in our company." "ah! i couldn't bear to part with you now," murmured the insect, feelingly; so tip let the subject drop. the army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the emerald city. by the dim light of the new moon, however, glinda's forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon the greensward. the tent of the sorceress was larger than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners flying above it. a tent was also pitched for the scarecrow's party; and when these preparations had been made, with military precision and quickness, the army retired to rest. 249 great was the amazement of queen jinjur next morning when her soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. she at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving in every direction and the great white tent of glinda standing directly before the gates. "we are surely lost!" cried jinjur, in despair; "for how can our knitting-needles avail against the long spears and terrible swords of our foes?" "the best thing we can do," said one of the girls, "is to surrender as quickly as possible, before we get hurt." "not so," returned jinjur, more bravely. "the enemy is still outside the walls, so we must try to gain time by engaging them in parley. go you with a flag of truce to glinda and ask her why she has dared to invade my dominions, and what are her demands." so the girl passed through the gates, bearing a white flag to show she was on a mission of peace, and came to glinda's tent. "tell your queen," said the sorceress to the girl, "that she must deliver up to me old mombi, to be my prisoner. if this is done i will not molest her farther." line-art drawing 250 now when this message was delivered to the queen it filled her with dismay, for mombi was her chief counsellor, and jinjur was terribly afraid of the old hag. but she sent for mombi, and told her what glinda had said. "i see trouble ahead for all of us," muttered the old witch, after glancing into a magic mirror she carried in her pocket. "but we may even yet escape by deceiving this sorceress, clever as she thinks herself." "don't you think it will be safer for me to deliver you into her hands?" asked jinjur, nervously. "if you do, it will cost you the throne of the emerald city!" answered the witch, positively. "but if you will let me have my own way, i can save us both very easily." "then do as you please," replied jinjur, "for it is so aristocratic to be a queen that i do not wish to be obliged to return home again, to make beds and wash dishes for my mother." so mombi called jellia jamb to her, and performed a certain magical rite with which she was familiar. as a result of the enchantment jellia took on the form and features of mombi, while the old witch grew to resemble the girl so closely that it seemed impossible anyone could guess the deception. 251 "now," said old mombi to the queen, "let your soldiers deliver up this girl to glinda. she will think she has the real mombi in her power, and so will return immediately to her own country in the south." therefore jellia, hobbling along like an aged line-art drawing woman, was led from the city gates and taken before glinda. "here is the person you demanded," said one of the guards, "and our queen now begs you will go away, as you promised, and leave us in peace." "that i will surely do," replied glinda, much pleased; "if this is really the person she seems to be." "it is certainly old mombi," said the guard, who believed she was speaking the truth; and then jinjur's soldiers returned within the city's gates. 252 the sorceress quickly summoned the scarecrow and his friends to her tent, and began to question the supposed mombi about the lost girl ozma. but jellia knew nothing at all of this affair, and presently she grew so nervous under the questioning that she gave way and began to weep, to glinda's great astonishment. "here is some foolish trickery!" said the sorceress, her eyes flashing with anger. "this is not mombi at all, but some other person who has been made to resemble her! tell me," she demanded, turning to the trembling girl, "what is your name?" this jellia dared not tell, having been threatened with death by the witch if she confessed the fraud. but glinda, sweet and fair though she was, understood magic better than any other person in the land of oz. so, by uttering a few potent words and making a peculiar gesture, she quickly transformed the girl into her proper shape, while at the same time old mombi, far away in jinjur's palace, suddenly resumed her own crooked form and evil features. "why, it's jellia jamb!" cried the scarecrow, recognizing in the girl one of his old friends. "it's our interpreter!" said the pumpkinhead, smiling pleasantly. then jellia was forced to tell of the trick mombi 253 line-art drawing had played and she also begged glinda's protection, which the sorceress readily granted. but glinda was now really angry, and sent word to jinjur that the fraud was discovered and she must deliver up the real mombi or suffer terrible consequences. jinjur was prepared for this message, for the witch well understood, when her natural form was thrust upon her, that glinda had discovered her trickery. but the wicked old creature had already thought up a new deception, and had made jinjur promise to carry it out. so the queen said to glinda's messenger: "tell your mistress that i cannot find mombi anywhere, but that glinda is welcome to enter the 254 city and search herself for the old woman. she may also bring her friends with her, if she likes; but if she does not find mombi by sundown, the sorceress must promise to go away peaceably and bother us no more." glinda agreed to these terms, well knowing that mombi was somewhere within the city walls. so jinjur caused the gates to be thrown open, and glinda marched in at the head of a company of soldiers, followed by the scarecrow and the tin woodman, while jack pumpkinhead rode astride the saw-horse, and the educated, highly magnified woggle-bug sauntered behind in a dignified manner. tip walked by the side of the sorceress, for glinda had conceived a great liking for the boy. of course old mombi had no intention of being found by glinda; so, while her enemies were marching up the street, the witch transformed herself into a red rose growing upon a bush in the garden of the palace. it was a clever idea, and a trick glinda did not suspect; so several precious hours were spent in a vain search for mombi. as sundown approached the sorceress realized she had been defeated by the superior cunning of the aged witch; so she gave the command to her people to march out of the city and back to their tents. the scarecrow and his comrades happened to be 255 searching in the garden of the palace just then, and they turned with disappointment to obey glinda's command. but before they left the garden the tin woodman, who was fond of flowers, chanced to espy a big red rose growing upon a bush; so he plucked the flower and fastened it securely in the tin buttonhole of his tin bosom. as he did this he fancied he heard a low moan proceed from the rose; but he paid no attention to the sound, and mombi was thus carried out of the city and into glinda's camp without anyone having a suspicion that they had succeeded in their quest. line-art drawing 256 the transformation of old mombi the witch was at first frightened at finding herself captured by the enemy; but soon she decided that she was exactly as safe in the tin woodman's button-hole as growing upon the bush. for no one knew the rose and mombi to be one, and now that she was without the gates of the city her chances of escaping altogether from glinda were much improved. "but there is no hurry," thought mombi. "i will wait awhile and enjoy the humiliation of this sorceress when she finds i have outwitted her." so throughout the night the rose lay quietly on the woodman's bosom, and in the morning, when glinda summoned our friends to a consultation, nick chopper carried his pretty flower with him to the white silk tent. 257 line-art drawing "for some reason," said glinda, "we have failed to find this cunning old mombi; so i fear our expedition will prove a failure. and for that i am sorry, because without our assistance little ozma will never be rescued and restored to her rightful position as queen of the emerald city" "do not let us give up so easily," said the pumpkinhead. "let us do something else." "something else must really be done," replied glinda, with a smile. "yet i cannot understand how i have been defeated so easily by an old witch who knows far less of magic than i do myself." "while we are on the ground i believe it would be wise for us to conquer the emerald city for princess ozma, and find the girl afterward," said the scarecrow." and while the girl remains hidden i will gladly rule in her place, for i understand the business of ruling much better than jinjur does." 258 "but i have promised not to molest jinjur," objected glinda. "suppose you all return with me to my kingdom--or empire, rather," said the tin woodman, politely including the entire party in a royal wave of his arm. "it will give me great pleasure to entertain you in my castle, where there is room enough and to spare. and if any of you wish to be nickelplated, my valet will do it free of all expense." while the woodman was speaking glinda's eyes had been noting the rose in his button-hole, and now she imagined she saw the big red leaves of the flower tremble slightly. this quickly aroused her suspicions, and in a moment more the sorceress had decided that the seeming rose was nothing else than a transformation of old mombi. at the same instant mombi knew she was discovered and must quickly plan an escape, and as transformations were easy to her she immediately took the form of a shadow and glided along the wall of the tent toward the entrance, thinking thus to disappear. but glinda had not only equal cunning, but far more experience than the witch. so the sorceress reached the opening of the tent before the shadow, and with a wave of her hand closed the entrance so securely that mombi could not find a crack big 259 enough to creep through. the scarecrow and his friends were greatly surprised at glinda's actions; for none of them had noted the shadow. but the sorceress said to them: "remain perfectly quiet, all of you! for the old witch is even now with us in this tent, and i hope to capture her." these words so alarmed mombi that she quickly transformed herself from a shadow to a black ant, in which shape she crawled along the ground, seeking a crack or crevice in which to hide her tiny body. fortunately, the ground where the tent had been pitched, being just before the city gates, was hard and smooth; and while the ant still crawled about, glinda discovered it and ran quickly forward to effect its capture but, just as her hand was descending, the witch, now fairly frantic with fear, made her last transformation, and in the form of a huge griffin sprang through the wall of the tent--tearing the silk asunder in her rush--and in a moment had darted away with the speed of a whirlwind. glinda did not hesitate to follow. she sprang upon the back of the saw-horse and cried: "now you shall prove that you have a right to be alive! run--run--run!" the saw-horse ran. like a flash he followed the 260 griffin, his wooden legs moving so fast that they twinkled like the rays of a star. before our friends could recover from their surprise both the griffin and the saw-horse had dashed out of sight. "come! let us follow!" cried the scarecrow. they ran to the place where the gump was lying and quickly tumbled aboard. "fly!" commanded tip, eagerly. "where to?" asked the gump, in its calm voice. "i don't know," returned tip, who was very nervous at the delay; "but if you will mount into the air i think we can discover which way glinda has gone." line-art drawing 261 "very well," returned the gump, quietly; and it spread its great wings and mounted high into the air. far away, across the meadows, they could now see two tiny specks, speeding one after the other; and they knew these specks must be the griffin and the saw-horse. so tip called the gump's attention to them and bade the creature try to overtake the witch and the sorceress. but, swift as was the gump's flight, the pursued and pursuer moved more swiftly yet, and within a few moments were blotted out against the dim horizon. "let us continue to follow them, nevertheless," said the scarecrow. "for the land of oz is of small extent, and sooner or later they must both come to a halt." old mombi had thought herself very wise to choose the form of a griffin, for its legs were exceedingly fleet and its strength more enduring than that of other animals. but she had not reckoned on the untiring energy of the saw-horse, whose wooden limbs could run for days without slacking their speed. therefore, after an hour's hard running, the griffin's breath began to fail, and it panted and gasped painfully, and moved more slowly than before. then it reached the edge of the desert and began racing across the deep sands. but its tired feet sank far 262 into the sand, and in a few minutes the griffin fell forward, completely exhausted, and lay still upon the desert waste. glinda came up a moment later, riding the still vigorous saw-horse; and having unwound a slender golden thread from her girdle the sorceress threw it over the head of the panting and helpless griffin, and so destroyed the magical power of mombi's transformation. for the animal, with one fierce shudder, disappeared from view, while in its place was discovered the form of the old witch, glaring savagely at the serene and beautiful face of the sorceress. line-art drawing 263 full page line-art drawing. 264 princess ozma of oz "you are my prisoner, and it is useless for you to struggle any longer," said glinda, in her soft, sweet voice. "lie still a moment, and rest yourself, and then i will carry you back to my tent." "why do you seek me?" asked mombi, still scarce able to speak plainly for lack of breath. "what have i done to you, to be so persecuted?" "you have done nothing to me," answered the gentle sorceress; "but i suspect you have been guilty of several wicked actions; and if i find it is true that you have so abused your knowledge of magic, i intend to punish you severely." "i defy you!" croaked the old hag. "you dare not harm me!" just then the gump flew up to them and alighted upon the desert sands beside glinda. our friends 265 were delighted to find that mombi had finally been captured, and after a hurried consultation it was decided they should all return to the camp in the gump. so the saw-horse was tossed aboard, and then glinda still holding an end of the golden thread that was around mombi's neck, forced her prisoner to climb into the sofas. the others now followed, and tip gave the word to the gump to return. the journey was made in safety, mombi sitting in her place with a grim and sullen air; for the old hag was absolutely helpless so long as the magical thread encircled her throat. the army hailed glinda's return with loud cheers, and the party of friends soon gathered again in the royal tent, which had been neatly repaired during their absence. "now," said the sorceress to mombi, "i want you to tell us why the wonderful wizard of oz paid you three visits, and what became of the child, ozma, which so curiously disappeared." the witch looked at glinda defiantly, but said not a word. "answer me!" cried the sorceress. but still mombi remained silent. "perhaps she doesn't know," remarked jack. "i beg you will keep quiet," said tip. "you might spoil everything with your foolishness." 266 "very well, dear father!" returned the pumpkinhead, meekly. "how glad i am to be a woggle-bug!" murmured the highly magnified insect, softly. "no one can expect wisdom to flow from a pumpkin." "well," said the scarecrow, "what shall we do to make mombi speak? unless she tells us what we wish to know her capture will do us no good at all." "suppose we try kindness," suggested the tin woodman. "i've heard that anyone can be conquered with kindness, no matter how ugly they may be." at this the witch turned to glare upon him so horribly that the tin woodman shrank back abashed. glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she turned to mombi and said: "you will gain nothing, i assure you, by thus defying us. for i am determined to learn the truth about the girl ozma, and unless you tell me all that you know, i will certainly put you to death." "oh, no! don't do that!" exclaimed the tin woodman. "it would be an awful thing to kill anyone--even old mombi!" "but it is merely a threat," returned glinda. "i shall not put mombi to death, because she will prefer to tell me the truth." "oh, i see!" said the tin man, much relieved. 267 "suppose i tell you all that you wish to know,". said mombi, speaking so suddenly that she startled them all. "what will you do with me then?" "in that case," replied glinda, "i shall merely ask you to drink a powerful draught which will cause you to forget all the magic you have ever learned." "then i would become a helpless old woman!" "but you would be alive," suggested the pumpkinhead, consolingly. "do try to keep silent!" said tip, nervously. "i'll try," responded jack; "but you will admit that it's a good thing to be alive." "especially if one happens to be thoroughly educated," added the woggle-bug, nodding approval. "you may make your choice," glinda said to old mombi, "between death if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you tell me the truth. but i think you will prefer to live. mombi cast an uneasy glance at the sorceress, and saw that she was in earnest, and not to be trifled with. so she replied, slowly: "i will answer your questions." "that is what i expected," said glinda, pleasantly. "you have chosen wisely, i assure you." she then motioned to one of her captains, who brought her a beautiful golden casket. from this 268 the sorceress drew an immense white pearl, attached to a slender chain which she placed around her neck in such a way that the pearl rested upon her bosom, directly over her heart. "now," said she, "i will ask my first question: why did the wizard pay you three visits?" "because i would not come to him," answered mombi. "that is no answer," said glinda, sternly. "tell me the truth." "well," returned mombi, with downcast eyes, "he visited me to learn the way i make tea-biscuits." "look up!" commanded the sorceress. mombi obeyed. "what is the color of my pearl?" demanded glinda. "why--it is black!" replied the old witch, in a tone of wonder. "then you have told me a falsehood!" cried glinda, angrily. "only when the truth is spoken will my magic pearl remain a pure white in color." mombi now saw how useless it was to try to deceive the sorceress; so she said, meanwhile scowling at her defeat: "the wizard brought to me the girl ozma, who was then no more than a baby, and begged me to conceal the child." 269 "that is what i thought," declared glinda, calmly. "what did he give you for thus serving him?" "he taught me all the magical tricks he knew. some were good tricks, and some were only frauds; but i have remained faithful to my promise." "what did you do with the girl?" asked glinda; and at this question everyone bent forward and listened eagerly for the reply. "i enchanted her," answered mombi. "in what way?" "i transformed her into--into--" "into what?" demanded glinda, as the witch hesitated. "into a boy!" said mombi, in a low tone." a boy!" echoed every voice; and then, because they knew that this old woman had reared tip from childhood, all eyes were turned to where the boy stood. "yes," said the old witch, nodding her head; "that is the princess ozma--the child brought to me by the wizard who stole her father's throne. that is the rightful ruler of the emerald city!" and she pointed her long bony finger straight at the boy. "i!" cried tip, in amazement. "why, i'm no princess ozma--i'm not a girl!" glinda smiled, and going to tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. 270 full page line-art drawing. mombi pointed her long, bony finger at the boy 271 "you are not a girl just now" said she, gently, "because mombi transformed you into a boy. but you were born a girl, and also a princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become queen of the emerald city." "oh, let jinjur be the queen!" exclaimed tip, ready to cry. "i want to stay a boy, and travel with the scarecrow and the tin woodman, and the wogglebug, and jack--yes! and my friend the saw-horse--and the gump! i don't want to be a girl!" "never mind, old chap," said the tin woodman, soothingly; "it don't hurt to be a girl, i'm told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. and, to be honest with you, i've always considered girls nicer than boys." "they're just as nice, anyway," added the scarecrow, patting tip affectionately upon the head. "and they are equally good students," proclaimed the woggle-bug. "i should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again." "but--see here!" said jack pumpkinhead, with a gasp: "if you become a girl, you can't be my dear father any more!" "no," answered tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety. "and i shall not be sorry to escape the relationship." then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to 272 line-art drawing glinda: "i might try it for awhile,-just to see how it seems, you know. but if i don't like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again." "really," said the sorceress, "that is beyond my magic. i never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. only unscrupulous witches use the art, and therefore i must ask mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. it will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic." 273 now that the truth about princes ozma had been discovered, mombi did not care what became of tip; but she feared glinda's anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the emerald city. so the witch consented to effect the transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made. glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. it was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossamer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. the first act of the witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. then the tin woodman and the woggle-bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view. the witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. when the blaze shot up and burned clearly old mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the saw-horse to sneeze--although he had been warned to keep quiet. 274 full page line-art drawing. mombi at her magical incantations. 275 then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. and now the incantation seemed complete, for the witch stood upright and cried the one word "yeowa!" in a loud voice. the vapor floated away; the atmosphere became, clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a may morning. her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. all adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet. at this exquisite vision tip's old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely princess ozma. the girl herself cast one look into glinda's bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the 276 others. speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: "i hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. i'm just the same tip, you know; only--only--" "only you're different!" said the pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made. line-art drawing 277 full page line-art drawing. 278 the riches of content when the wonderful tidings reached the ears of queen jinjur--how mombi the witch had been captured; how she had confessed her crime to glinda; and how the long-lost princess ozma had been discovered in no less a personage than the boy tip--she wept real tears of grief and despair. "to think," she moaned, "that after having ruled as queen, and lived in a palace, i must go back to scrubbing floors and churning butter again! it is too horrible to think of! i will never consent!" so when her soldiers, who spent most of their time making fudge in the palace kitchens, counseled jinjur to resist, she listened to their foolish prattle and sent a sharp defiance to glinda the good and the princess ozma. the result was a declaration of war, and the very next day glinda marched upon the emerald city with pennants flying and bands playing, 279 and a forest of shining spears, sparkling brightly beneath the sun's rays. but when it came to the walls this brave assembly made a sudden halt; for jinjur had closed and barred every gateway, and the walls of the emerald city were builded high and thick with many blocks of green marble. finding her advance thus baffled, glinda bent her brows in deep thought, while the woggle-bug said, in his most positive tone: "we must lay siege to the city, and starve it into submission. it is the only thing we can do." "not so," answered the scarecrow. "we still have the gump, and the gump can still fly" the sorceress turned quickly at this speech, and her face now wore a bright smile. "you are right," she exclaimed, "and certainly have reason to be proud of your brains. let us go to the gump at once!" so they passed through the ranks of the army until they came to the place, near the scarecrow's tent, where the gump lay. glinda and princess ozma mounted first, and sat upon the sofas. then the scarecrow and his friends climbed aboard, and still there was room for a captain and three soldiers, which glinda considered sufficient for a guard. now, at a word from the princess, the queer 280 line-art drawing thing they had called the gump flopped its palm-leaf wings and rose into the air, carrying the party of adventurers high above the walls. they hovered over the palace, and soon perceived jinjur reclining in a hammock in the courtyard, where she was comfortably reading a novel with a green cover and eating green chocolates, confident that the walls would protect her from her enemies. obeying a quick command, the gump alighted safely in this very courtyard, and before jinjur had time to do more than scream, the captain and three soldiers 281 leaped out and made the former queen a prisoner, locking strong chains upon both her wrists. that act really ended the war; for the army of revolt submitted as soon as they knew jinjur to be a captive, and the captain marched in safety through the streets and up to the gates of the city, which she threw wide open. then the bands played their most stirring music while glinda's army marched into the city, and heralds proclaimed the conquest of the audacious jinjur and the accession of the beautiful princess ozma to the throne of her royal ancestors. at once the men of the emerald city cast off their aprons. and it is said that the women were so tired eating of their husbands' cooking that they line-art drawing 282 all hailed the conquest of jinjur with joy. certain it is that, rushing one and all to the kitchens of their houses, the good wives prepared so delicious a feast for the weary men that harmony was immediately restored in every family. ozma's first act was to oblige the army of revolt to return to her every emerald or other gem stolen from the public streets and buildings; and so great was the number of precious stones picked from their settings by these vain girls, that every one of the royal jewelers worked steadily for more than a month to replace them in their settings. meanwhile the army of revolt was disbanded and the girls sent home to their mothers. on promise of good behavior jinjur was likewise released. ozma made the loveliest queen the emerald city had ever known; and, although she was so young and inexperienced, she ruled her people with wisdom and justice. for glinda gave her good advice on all occasions; and the woggle-bug, who was appointed to the important post of public educator, was quite helpful to ozma when her royal duties grew perplexing. the girl, in her gratitude to the gump for its services, offered the creature any reward it might name. 283 "then," replied the gump, "please take me to pieces. i did not wish to be brought to life, and i am greatly ashamed of my conglomerate personality. once i was a monarch of the forest, as my antlers fully prove; but now, in my present upholstered condition of servitude, i am compelled to fly through the air--my legs being of no use to me whatever. therefore i beg to be dispersed." so ozma ordered the gump taken apart. the antlered head was again hung over the mantle-piece in the hall, and the sofas were untied and placed in the reception parlors. the broom tail resumed its accustomed duties in the kitchen, and finally, the scarecrow replaced all the clotheslines and ropes on the pegs from which he had taken them on the eventful day when the thing was constructed. you might think that was the end of the gump; and so it was, as a flying-machine. but the head over the mantle-piece continued to talk whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled, with its abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an audience with the queen. the saw-horse, being ozma's personal property, was tenderly cared for; and often she rode the queer creature along the streets of the emerald city. she had its wooden legs shod with gold, to keep them 284 from wearing out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always filled the queen's subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence of her magical powers. "the wonderful wizard was never so wonderful as queen ozma," the people said to one another, in whispers; "for he claimed to do many things he could not do; whereas our new queen does many things no one would ever expect her to accomplish." jack pumpkinhead remained with ozma to the end of his days; and he did not spoil as soon as he had feared, although he always remained as stupid as ever. the woggle-bug tried to teach him several arts and sciences; but jack was so poor a student that any attempt to educate him was soon abandoned. after glinda's army had marched back home, and peace was restored to the emerald city, the tin woodman announced his intention to return to his own kingdom of the winkies. "it isn't a very big kingdom," said he to ozma, "but for that very reason it is easier to rule; and i have called myself an emperor because i am an absolute monarch, and no one interferes in any way with my conduct of public or personal affairs. when i get home i shall have a new coat of nickel plate; for i have become somewhat marred and scratched lately; 285 and then i shall be glad to have you pay me a visit." "thank you," replied ozma. "some day i may accept the invitation. but what is to become of the scarecrow?" "i shall return with my friend the tin woodman," said the stuffed one, seriously. "we have decided never to be parted in the future." "and i have made the scarecrow my royal treasurer," explained the tin woodman." for it has occurred to me that it is a good thing to have a royal treasurer who is made of money. what do you think?" "i think," said the little queen, smiling, "that your friend must be the richest man in all the world." "i am," returned the scarecrow. "but not on account of my money. for i consider brains far superior to money, in every way. you may have noticed that if one has money without brains, he cannot use it to advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will enable him to live comfortably to the end of his days." "at the same time," declared the tin woodman, "you must acknowledge that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create, and that money can not buy. perhaps, after all, it is i who am the richest man in all the world." 286 "you are both rich, my friends," said ozma, gently; "and your riches are the only riches worth having--the riches of content!" the end the land of oz the further adventures of a sequel to the wizard of oz by l. frank baum [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] the famous oz books since 1900 when l. frank baum introduced to the children of america the wonderful wizard of oz and all the other exciting characters who inhabit the land of oz, these delightful fairy tales have stimulated the imagination of millions of young readers. these are stories which are genuine fantasy--creative, funny, tender, exciting and surprising. filled with the rarest and most absurd creatures, each of the =14= volumes which now comprise the series, has been eagerly sought out by generation after generation until today they are known to all except the very young or those who were never young at all. when, in a recent survey, =the new york times= polled a group of teenagers on the books they liked best when they were young, the oz books topped the list. _the famous oz books_ by l. frank baum: the wizard of oz the land of oz ozma of oz dorothy and the wizard in oz the road to oz the emerald city of oz the patchwork girl of oz tik-tok of oz the scarecrow of oz rinkitink in oz the lost princess of oz the tin woodman of oz the magic of oz glinda of oz chicago the reilly & lee co. _publishers_ [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the land _of_ oz ] [illustration: tip manufactures a pumpkinhead] the land of oz being an account of the further adventures of the scarecrow and tin woodman and also the strange experiences of the highly magnified woggle-bug, jack pumpkinhead, the animated saw-horse and the gump; the story being a sequel _to_ the wizard _of_ oz by l. frank baum author of father goose--his book; the wizard of oz; the magical monarch of mo; the enchanted isle of yew, the life and adventures _of_ santa claus; dot and tot of merryland etc., etc. pictured by john r. neill chicago the reilly & lee company [illustration: copyright 1904 by l. frank baum all rights reserved ] [illustration: author's note after the publication of "the wonderful wizard of oz" i began to receive letters from children, telling me of their pleasure in reading the story and asking me to "write something more" about the scarecrow and the tin woodman. at first i considered these little letters, frank and earnest though they were, in the light of pretty compliments; but the letters continued to come during succeeding months, and even years. finally i promised one little girl, who made a long journey to see me and prefer her request,--and she is a "dorothy," by the way--that when a thousand little girls had written me a thousand little letters asking for another story of the scarecrow and the tin woodman, i would write the book. either little dorothy was a fairy in disguise, and waved her magic wand, or the success of the stage production of "the wizard of oz" made new friends for the story. for the thousand letters reached their destination long since--and many more followed them. and now, although pleading guilty to a long delay, i have kept my promise in this book. l. frank baum. chicago, june, 1904. ] [illustration: to those excellent good fellows and eminent comedians =david c. montgomery= and =fred a. stone= whose clever personations of the tin woodman and the scarecrow have delighted thousands of children throughout the land, this book is gratefully dedicated by the author ] [illustration: tip. jack mombi scarecrow tin woodman woggle-bug gump ] list of chapters page tip manufactures a pumpkinhead 1 the marvelous powder of life 9 the flight of the fugitives 23 tip makes an experiment in magic 33 the awakening of the saw-horse 41 jack pumpkinhead's ride 53 his majesty, the scarecrow 65 general jinjur's army of revolt 77 the scarecrow plans an escape 91 the journey to the tin woodman 103 a nickel-plated emperor 115 mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. 129 a highly magnified history 141 old mombi indulges in witchcraft 153 the prisoners of the queen 163 the scarecrow takes time to think 175 the astonishing flight of the gump 185 in the jackdaws' nest 195 dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills 213 the scarecrow appeals to glinda 225 the tin woodman plucks a rose 241 the transformation of old mombi 251 princess ozma of oz 259 the riches of content 273 [illustration] [illustration: the land _of_ oz ] [illustration] [illustration: tip manufactures a pumpkinhead ] in the country of the gillikins, which is at the north of the land of oz, lived a youth called tip. there was more to his name than that, for old mombi often declared that his whole name was tippetarius; but no one was expected to say such a long word when "tip" would do just as well. this boy remembered nothing of his parents, for he had been brought when quite young to be reared by the old woman known as mombi, whose reputation, i am sorry to say, was none of the best. for the gillikin people had reason to suspect her of indulging in magical arts, and therefore hesitated to associate with her. mombi was not exactly a witch, because the good witch who ruled that part of the land of oz had forbidden any other witch to exist in her dominions. so tip's guardian, however much she might aspire to working magic, realized it was unlawful to be more than a sorceress, or at most a wizardess. [illustration] tip was made to carry wood from the forest, that the old woman might boil her pot. he also worked in the corn-fields, hoeing and husking; and he fed the pigs and milked the four-horned cow that was mombi's especial pride. but you must not suppose he worked all the time, for he felt that would be bad for him. when sent to the forest tip often climbed trees for birds' eggs or amused himself chasing the fleet white rabbits or fishing in the brooks with bent pins. then he would hastily gather his armful of wood and carry it home. and when he was supposed to be working in the corn-fields, and the tall stalks hid him from mombi's view, tip would often dig in the gopher holes, or--if the mood seized him--lie upon his back between the rows of corn and take a nap. so, by taking care not to exhaust his strength, he grew as strong and rugged as a boy may be. mombi's curious magic often frightened her neighbors, and they treated her shyly, yet respectfully, because of her weird powers. but tip frankly hated her, and took no pains to hide his feelings. indeed, he sometimes showed less respect for the old woman than he should have done, considering she was his guardian. [illustration] there were pumpkins in mombi's corn-fields, lying golden red among the rows of green stalks; and these had been planted and carefully tended that the four-horned cow might eat of them in the winter time. but one day, after the corn had all been cut and stacked, and tip was carrying the pumpkins to the stable, he took a notion to make a "jack lantern" and try to give the old woman a fright with it. so he selected a fine, big pumpkin--one with a lustrous, orange-red color--and began carving it. with the point of his knife he made two round eyes, a three-cornered nose, and a mouth shaped like a new moon. the face, when completed, could not have been considered strictly beautiful; but it wore a smile so big and broad, and was so jolly in expression, that even tip laughed as he looked admiringly at his work. the child had no playmates, so he did not know that boys often dig out the inside of a "pumpkin-jack," and in the space thus made put a lighted candle to render the face more startling; but he conceived an idea of his own that promised to be quite as effective. he decided to manufacture the form of a man, who would wear this pumpkin head, and to stand it in a place where old mombi would meet it face to face. "and then," said tip to himself, with a laugh, "she'll squeal louder than the brown pig does when i pull her tail, and shiver with fright worse than i did last year when i had the ague!" he had plenty of time to accomplish this task, for mombi had gone to a village--to buy groceries, she said--and it was a journey of at least two days. so he took his axe to the forest, and selected some stout, straight saplings, which he cut down and trimmed of all their twigs and leaves. from these he would make the arms, and legs, and feet of his man. for the body he stripped a sheet of thick bark from around a big tree, and with much labor fashioned it into a cylinder of about the right size, pinning the edges together with wooden pegs. then, whistling happily as he worked, he carefully jointed the limbs and fastened them to the body with pegs whittled into shape with his knife. by the time this feat had been accomplished it began to grow dark, and tip remembered he must milk the cow and feed the pigs. so he picked up his wooden man and carried it back to the house with him. during the evening, by the light of the fire in the kitchen, tip carefully rounded all the edges of the joints and smoothed the rough places in a neat and workmanlike manner. then he stood the figure up against the wall and admired it. it seemed remarkably tall, even for a full-grown man; but that was a good point in a small boy's eyes, and tip did not object at all to the size of his creation. next morning, when he looked at his work again, tip saw he had forgotten to give the dummy a neck, by means of which he might fasten the pumpkinhead to the body. so he went again to the forest, which was not far away, and chopped from a tree several pieces of wood with which to complete his work. when he returned he fastened a cross-piece to the upper end of the body, making a hole through the center to hold upright the neck. the bit of wood which formed this neck was also sharpened at the upper end, and when all was ready tip put on the pumpkin head, pressing it well down onto the neck, and found that it fitted very well. the head could be turned to one side or the other, as he pleased, and the hinges of the arms and legs allowed him to place the dummy in any position he desired. "now, that," declared tip, proudly, "is really a very fine man, and it ought to frighten several screeches out of old mombi! but it would be much more lifelike if it were properly dressed." to find clothing seemed no easy task; but tip boldly ransacked the great chest in which mombi kept all her keepsakes and treasures, and at the very bottom he discovered some purple trousers, a red shirt and a pink vest which was dotted with white spots. these he carried away to his man and succeeded, although the garments did not fit very well, in dressing the creature in a jaunty fashion. some knit stockings belonging to mombi and a much worn pair of his own shoes completed the man's apparel, and tip was so delighted that he danced up and down and laughed aloud in boyish ecstasy. "i must give him a name!" he cried. "so good a man as this must surely have a name. i believe," he added, after a moment's thought, "i will name the fellow 'jack pumpkinhead!'" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the marvelous powder of life ] after considering the matter carefully, tip decided that the best place to locate jack would be at the bend in the road, a little way from the house. so he started to carry his man there, but found him heavy and rather awkward to handle. after dragging the creature a short distance tip stood him on his feet, and by first bending the joints of one leg, and then those of the other,--at the same time pushing from behind,--the boy managed to induce jack to walk to the bend in the road. it was not accomplished without a few tumbles, and tip really worked harder than he ever had in the fields or forest; but a love of mischief urged him on, and it pleased him to test the cleverness of his workmanship. "jack's all right, and works fine!" he said to himself, panting with the unusual exertion. but just then he discovered the man's left arm had fallen off in the journey; so he went back to find it, and afterward, by whittling a new and stouter pin for the shoulder-joint, he repaired the injury so successfully that the arm was stronger than before. tip also noticed that jack's pumpkin head had twisted around until it faced his back; but this was easily remedied. when, at last, the man was set up facing the turn in the path where old mombi was to appear, he looked natural enough to be a fair imitation of a gillikin farmer,--and unnatural enough to startle anyone that came on him unawares. as it was yet too early in the day to expect the old woman to return home, tip went down into the valley below the farm-house and began to gather nuts from the trees that grew there. however, old mombi returned earlier than usual. she had met a crooked wizard who resided in a lonely cave in the mountains, and had traded several important secrets of magic with him. having in this way secured three new recipes, four magical powders and a selection of herbs of wonderful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast as she could, in order to test her new sorceries. so intent was mombi on the treasures she had gained that when she turned the bend in the road and caught a glimpse of the man, she merely nodded and said: "good evening, sir." but, a moment after, noting that the person did not move or reply, she cast a shrewd glance into his face and discovered his pumpkin head--elaborately carved by tip's jack-knife. "heh!" ejaculated mombi, giving a sort of grunt; "that rascally boy has been playing tricks again! very good! ve--ry _good_! i'll beat him black-and-blue for trying to scare me in this fashion!" angrily she raised her stick to smash in the grinning pumpkin head of the dummy; but a sudden thought made her pause, the uplifted stick left motionless in the air. "why, here is a good chance to try my new powder!" said she, eagerly. "and then i can tell whether that crooked wizard has fairly traded secrets, or whether he has fooled me as wickedly as i fooled him." so she set down her basket and began fumbling in it for one of the precious powders she had obtained. while mombi was thus occupied tip strolled back, with his pockets full of nuts, and discovered the old woman standing beside his man and apparently not the least bit frightened by it. at first he was greatly disappointed; but the next moment he became curious to know what mombi was going to do. so he hid behind a hedge, where he could see without being seen, and prepared to watch. after some search the woman drew from her basket an old pepper-box, upon the faded label of which the wizard had written with a lead-pencil: "powder of life." "ah--here it is!" she cried, joyfully. "and now let us see if it is potent. the stingy wizard didn't give me much of it, but i guess there's enough for two or three doses." [illustration: "old mombi danced around him"] tip was much surprised when he overheard this speech. then he saw old mombi raise her arm and sprinkle the powder from the box over the pumpkin head of his man jack. she did this in the same way one would pepper a baked potato, and the powder sifted down from jack's head and scattered over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple trousers tip had dressed him in, and a portion even fell upon the patched and worn shoes. then, putting the pepper-box back into the basket, mombi lifted her left hand, with its little finger pointed upward, and said: "weaugh!" then she lifted her right hand, with the thumb pointed upward, and said: "teaugh!" then she lifted both hands, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried: "peaugh!" jack pumpkinhead stepped back a pace, at this, and said in a reproachful voice: "don't yell like that! do you think i'm deaf?" old mombi danced around him, frantic with delight. "he lives!" she screamed: "he lives! he lives!" then she threw her stick into the air and caught it as it came down; and she hugged herself with both arms, and tried to do a step of a jig; and all the time she repeated, rapturously: "he lives!--he lives!--he lives!" now you may well suppose that tip observed all this with amazement. at first he was so frightened and horrified that he wanted to run away, but his legs trembled and shook so badly that he couldn't. then it struck him as a very funny thing for jack to come to life, especially as the expression on his pumpkin face was so droll and comical it excited laughter on the instant. so, recovering from his first fear, tip began to laugh; and the merry peals reached old mombi's ears and made her hobble quickly to the hedge, where she seized tip's collar and dragged him back to where she had left her basket and the pumpkin-headed man. "you naughty, sneaking, wicked boy!" she exclaimed, furiously; "i'll teach you to spy out my secrets and to make fun of me!" "i wasn't making fun of you," protested tip. "i was laughing at old pumpkinhead! look at him! isn't he a picture, though?" "i hope you are not reflecting on my personal appearance," said jack; and it was so funny to hear his grave voice, while his face continued to wear its jolly smile, that tip again burst into a peal of laughter. even mombi was not without a curious interest in the man her magic had brought to life; for, after staring at him intently, she presently asked: [illustration: old mombi puts jack in the stable] "what do you know?" "well, that is hard to tell," replied jack. "for although i feel that i know a tremendous lot, i am not yet aware how much there is in the world to find out about. it will take me a little time to discover whether i am very wise or very foolish." "to be sure," said mombi, thoughtfully. "but what are you going to do with him, now he is alive?" asked tip, wondering. "i must think it over," answered mombi. "but we must get home at once, for it is growing dark. help the pumpkinhead to walk." "never mind me," said jack; "i can walk as well as you can. haven't i got legs and feet, and aren't they jointed?" "are they?" asked the woman, turning to tip. "of course they are; i made 'em myself," returned the boy, with pride. so they started for the house; but when they reached the farm yard old mombi led the pumpkin man to the cow stable and shut him up in an empty stall, fastening the door securely on the outside. "i've got to attend to you, first," she said, nodding her head at tip. hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he knew mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to do any evil thing. they entered the house. it was a round, dome-shaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses in the land of oz. mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg. tip obeyed quickly, for he was afraid of her. after the candle had been lighted mombi ordered him to build a fire in the hearth, and while tip was thus engaged the old woman ate her supper. when the flames began to crackle the boy came to her and asked a share of the bread and cheese; but mombi refused him. "i'm hungry!" said tip, in a sulky tone. "you won't be hungry long," replied mombi, with a grim look. the boy didn't like this speech, for it sounded like a threat; but he happened to remember he had nuts in his pocket, so he cracked some of those and ate them while the woman rose, shook the crumbs from her apron, and hung above the fire a small black kettle. then she measured out equal parts of milk and vinegar and poured them into the kettle. next she produced several packets of herbs and powders and began adding a portion of each to the contents of the kettle. occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a yellow paper the recipe of the mess she was concocting. as tip watched her his uneasiness increased. "what is that for?" he asked. "for you," returned mombi, briefly. tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble. then he would glance at the stern and wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were any place but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by the candle upon the wall were enough to give one the horrors. so an hour passed away, during which the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the pot and the hissing of the flames. finally, tip spoke again. "have i got to drink that stuff?" he asked, nodding toward the pot. "yes," said mombi. "what'll it do to me?" asked tip. "if it's properly made," replied mombi, "it will change or transform you into a marble statue." tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. "i don't want to be a marble statue!" he protested. "that doesn't matter; i want you to be one," said the old woman, looking at him severely. "what use'll i be then?" asked tip. "there won't be any one to work for you." "i'll make the pumpkinhead work for me," said mombi. again tip groaned. "why don't you change me into a goat, or a chicken?" he asked, anxiously. "you can't do anything with a marble statue." "oh, yes; i can," returned mombi. "i'm going to plant a flower garden, next spring, and i'll put you in the middle of it, for an ornament. i wonder i haven't thought of that before; you've been a bother to me for years." at this terrible speech tip felt the beads of perspiration starting all over his body; but he sat still and shivered and looked anxiously at the kettle. "perhaps it won't work," he muttered, in a voice that sounded weak and discouraged. "oh, i think it will," answered mombi, cheerfully. "i seldom make a mistake." again there was a period of silence--a silence so long and gloomy that when mombi finally lifted the kettle from the fire it was close to midnight. [illustration: "i don't want to be a marble statue."] "you cannot drink it until it has become quite cold," announced the old witch--for in spite of the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft. "we must both go to bed now, and at daybreak i will call you and at once complete your transformation into a marble statue." with this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with her, and tip heard her close and lock the door. the boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire. [illustration] [illustration: the flight of the fugitives ] tip reflected. "it's a hard thing, to be a marble statue," he thought, rebelliously, "and i'm not going to stand it. for years i've been a bother to her, she says; so she's going to get rid of me. well, there's an easier way than to become a statue. no boy could have any fun forever standing in the middle of a flower garden! i'll run away, that's what i'll do--and i may as well go before she makes me drink that nasty stuff in the kettle." he waited until the snores of the old witch announced she was fast asleep, and then he arose softly and went to the cupboard to find something to eat. "no use starting on a journey without food," he decided, searching upon the narrow shelves. he found some crusts of bread; but he had to look into mombi's basket to find the cheese she had brought from the village. while turning over the contents of the basket he came upon the pepper-box which contained the "powder of life." "i may as well take this with me," he thought, "or mombi'll be using it to make more mischief with." so he put the box in his pocket, together with the bread and cheese. then he cautiously left the house and latched the door behind him. outside both moon and stars shone brightly, and the night seemed peaceful and inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen. "i'll be glad to get away," said tip, softly; "for i never did like that old woman. i wonder how i ever came to live with her." he was walking slowly toward the road when a thought made him pause. "i don't like to leave jack pumpkinhead to the tender mercies of old mombi," he muttered. "and jack belongs to me, for i made him--even if the old witch did bring him to life." he retraced his steps to the cow-stable and opened the door of the stall where the pumpkin-headed man had been left. [illustration: "tip led him along the path."] jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and by the moonlight tip could see he was smiling just as jovially as ever. "come on!" said the boy, beckoning. "where to?" asked jack. "you'll know as soon as i do," answered tip, smiling sympathetically into the pumpkin face. "all we've got to do now is to tramp." "very well," returned jack, and walked awkwardly out of the stable and into the moonlight. tip turned toward the road and the man followed him. jack walked with a sort of limp, and occasionally one of the joints of his legs would turn backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing him to tumble. but the pumpkinhead was quick to notice this, and began to take more pains to step carefully; so that he met with few accidents. tip led him along the path without stopping an instant. they could not go very fast, but they walked steadily; and by the time the moon sank away and the sun peeped over the hills they had travelled so great a distance that the boy had no reason to fear pursuit from the old witch. moreover, he had turned first into one path, and then into another, so that should anyone follow them it would prove very difficult to guess which way they had gone, or where to seek them. [illustration] fairly satisfied that he had escaped--for a time, at least--being turned into a marble statue, the boy stopped his companion and seated himself upon a rock by the roadside. "let's have some breakfast," he said. jack pumpkinhead watched tip curiously, but refused to join in the repast. "i don't seem to be made the same way you are," he said. "i know you are not," returned tip; "for i made you." "oh! did you?" asked jack. "certainly. and put you together. and carved your eyes and nose and ears and mouth," said tip proudly. "and dressed you." jack looked at his body and limbs critically. "it strikes me you made a very good job of it," he remarked. "just so-so," replied tip, modestly; for he began to see certain defects in the construction of his man. "if i'd known we were going to travel together i might have been a little more particular." "why, then," said the pumpkinhead, in a tone that expressed surprise, "you must be my creator--my parent--my father!" "or your inventor," replied the boy with a laugh. "yes, my son; i really believe i am!" "then i owe you obedience," continued the man, "and you owe me--support." "that's it, exactly," declared tip, jumping up. "so let us be off." "where are we going?" asked jack, when they had resumed their journey. "i'm not exactly sure," said the boy; "but i believe we are headed south, and that will bring us, sooner or later, to the emerald city." "what city is that?" enquired the pumpkinhead. "why, it's the center of the land of oz, and the biggest town in all the country. i've never been there, myself, but i've heard all about its history. it was built by a mighty and wonderful wizard named oz, and everything there is of a green color--just as everything in this country of the gillikins is of a purple color." "is everything here purple?" asked jack. "of course it is. can't you see?" returned the boy. "i believe i must be color-blind," said the pumpkinhead, after staring about him. "well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple, and the houses and fences are purple," explained tip. "even the mud in the roads is purple. but in the emerald city everything is green that is purple here. and in the country of the munchkins, over at the east, everything is blue; and in the south country of the quadlings everything is red; and in the west country of the winkies, where the tin woodman rules, everything is yellow." "oh!" said jack. then, after a pause, he asked: "did you say a tin woodman rules the winkies?" "yes; he was one of those who helped dorothy to destroy the wicked witch of the west, and the winkies were so grateful that they invited him to become their ruler,--just as the people of the emerald city invited the scarecrow to rule them." "dear me!" said jack. "i'm getting confused with all this history. who is the scarecrow?" "another friend of dorothy's," replied tip. "and who is dorothy?" "she was a girl that came here from kansas, a place in the big, outside world. she got blown to the land of oz by a cyclone, and while she was here the scarecrow and the tin woodman accompanied her on her travels." "and where is she now?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "glinda the good, who rules the quadlings, sent her home again," said the boy. "oh. and what became of the scarecrow?" "i told you. he rules the emerald city," answered tip. "i thought you said it was ruled by a wonderful wizard," objected jack, seeming more and more confused. "well, so i did. now, pay attention, and i'll explain it," said tip, speaking slowly and looking the smiling pumpkinhead squarely in the eye. "dorothy went to the emerald city to ask the wizard to send her back to kansas; and the scarecrow and the tin woodman went with her. but the wizard couldn't send her back, because he wasn't so much of a wizard as he might have been. and then they got angry at the wizard, and threatened to expose him; so the wizard made a big balloon and escaped in it, and no one has ever seen him since." "now, that is very interesting history," said jack, well pleased; "and i understand it perfectly--all but the explanation." "i'm glad you do," responded tip. "after the wizard was gone, the people of the emerald city made his majesty, the scarecrow, their king; and i have heard that he became a very popular ruler." "are we going to see this queer king?" asked jack, with interest. "i think we may as well," replied the boy; "unless you have something better to do." "oh, no, dear father," said the pumpkinhead. "i am quite willing to go wherever you please." [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: tip makes an experiment in magic ] the boy, small and rather delicate in appearance, seemed somewhat embarrassed at being called "father" by the tall, awkward, pumpkin-headed man; but to deny the relationship would involve another long and tedious explanation; so he changed the subject by asking, abruptly: "are you tired?" "of course not!" replied the other. "but," he continued, after a pause, "it is quite certain i shall wear out my wooden joints if i keep on walking." tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was true. he began to regret that he had not constructed the wooden limbs more carefully and substantially. yet how could he ever have guessed that the man he had made merely to scare old mombi with would be brought to life by means of a magical powder contained in an old pepper-box? so he ceased to reproach himself, and began to think how he might yet remedy the deficiencies of jack's weak joints. while thus engaged they came to the edge of a wood, and the boy sat down to rest upon an old saw-horse that some woodcutter had left there. [illustration] "why don't you sit down?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "won't it strain my joints?" inquired the other. "of course not. it'll rest them," declared the boy. so jack tried to sit down; but as soon as he bent his joints farther than usual they gave way altogether, and he came clattering to the ground with such a crash that tip feared he was entirely ruined. he rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet, straightened his arms and legs, and felt of his head to see if by chance it had become cracked. but jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all, and tip said to him: "i guess you'd better remain standing, hereafter. it seems the safest way." "very well, dear father; just as you say," replied the smiling jack, who had been in no wise confused by his tumble. tip sat down again. presently the pumpkinhead asked: "what is that thing you are sitting on?" "oh, this is a horse," replied the boy, carelessly. "what is a horse?" demanded jack. "a horse? why, there are two kinds of horses," returned tip, slightly puzzled how to explain. "one kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and a head and a tail. and people ride upon its back." "i understand," said jack, cheerfully. "that's the kind of horse you are now sitting on." "no, it isn't," answered tip, promptly. "why not? that one has four legs, and a head, and a tail." tip looked at the saw-horse more carefully, and found that the pumpkinhead was right. the body had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a branch had been left sticking up at one end that looked very much like a tail. in the other end were two big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been chopped away that might easily be mistaken for the horse's mouth. as for the legs, they were four straight limbs cut from trees and stuck fast into the body, being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would stand firmly when a log was laid across it to be sawed. "this thing resembles a real horse more than i imagined," said tip, trying to explain. "but a real horse is alive, and trots and prances and eats oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse, made of wood, and used to saw logs upon." "if it were alive, wouldn't it trot, and prance, and eat oats?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "it would trot and prance, perhaps; but it wouldn't eat oats," replied the boy, laughing at the idea. "and of course it can't ever be alive, because it is made of wood." "so am i," answered the man. tip looked at him in surprise. "why, so you are!" he exclaimed. "and the magic powder that brought you to life is here in my pocket." [illustration: the magical powder of life] he brought out the pepper box, and eyed it curiously. "i wonder," said he, musingly, "if it would bring the saw-horse to life." "if it would," returned jack, calmly--for nothing seemed to surprise him--"i could ride on its back, and that would save my joints from wearing out." "i'll try it!" cried the boy, jumping up. "but i wonder if i can remember the words old mombi said, and the way she held her hands up." he thought it over for a minute, and as he had watched carefully from the hedge every motion of the old witch, and listened to her words, he believed he could repeat exactly what she had said and done. so he began by sprinkling some of the magic powder of life from the pepper-box upon the body of the saw-horse. then he lifted his left hand, with the little finger pointing upward, and said "weaugh!" "what does that mean, dear father?" asked jack, curiously. "i don't know," answered tip. then he lifted his right hand, with the thumb pointing upward, and said: "teaugh!" "what's that, dear father?" inquired jack. "it means you must keep quiet!" replied the boy, provoked at being interrupted at so important a moment. "how fast i am learning!" remarked the pumpkinhead, with his eternal smile. tip now lifted both hands above his head, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried in a loud voice: "peaugh!" immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its legs, yawned with its chopped-out mouth, and shook a few grains of the powder off its back. the rest of the powder seemed to have vanished into the body of the horse. "good!" called jack, while the boy looked on in astonishment. "you are a very clever sorcerer, dear father!" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the awakening of the saw-horse ] the saw-horse, finding himself alive, seemed even more astonished than tip. he rolled his knotty eyes from side to side, taking a first wondering view of the world in which he had now so important an existence. then he tried to look at himself; but he had, indeed, no neck to turn; so that in the endeavor to see his body he kept circling around and around, without catching even a glimpse of it. his legs were stiff and awkward, for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against jack pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined the roadside. tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of the saw-horse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out: "whoa! whoa, there!" the saw-horse paid no attention whatever to this command, and the next instant brought one of his wooden legs down upon tip's foot so forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer distance, from where he again yelled: "whoa! whoa, i say!" jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position, and he looked at the saw-horse with much interest. "i don't believe the animal can hear you," he remarked. "i shout loud enough, don't i?" answered tip, angrily. "yes; but the horse has no ears," said the smiling pumpkinhead. "sure enough!" exclaimed tip, noting the fact for the first time. "how, then, am i going to stop him?" but at that instant the saw-horse stopped himself, having concluded it was impossible to see his own body. he saw tip, however, and came close to the boy to observe him more fully. it was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs on its right side together, and those on its left side together, as a pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle. tip patted it upon the head, and said "good boy! good boy!" in a coaxing tone; and the saw-horse pranced away to examine with its bulging eyes the form of jack pumpkinhead. "i must find a halter for him," said tip; and having made a search in his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. unwinding this, he approached the saw-horse and tied the cord around its neck, afterward fastening the other end to a large tree. the saw-horse, not understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no attempt to run away. "he's stronger than i thought," said the boy, "and rather obstinate, too." "why don't you make him some ears?" asked jack. "then you can tell him what to do." "that's a splendid idea!" said tip. "how did you happen to think of it?" "why, i didn't think of it," answered the pumpkinhead; "i didn't need to, for it's the simplest and easiest thing to do." so tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a small tree. "i mustn't make them too big," he said, as he whittled, "or our horse would become a donkey." "how is that?" inquired jack, from the roadside. "why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears than a horse," explained tip. "then, if my ears were longer, would i be a horse?" asked jack. "my friend," said tip, gravely, "you'll never be anything but a pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are." "oh," returned jack, nodding; "i think i understand." "if you do, you're a wonder," remarked the boy; "but there's no harm in _thinking_ you understand. i guess these ears are ready now. will you hold the horse while i stick them on?" "certainly, if you'll help me up," said jack. so tip raised him to his feet, and the pumpkinhead went to the horse and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and inserted the ears. "they make him look very handsome," said jack, admiringly. but those words, spoken close to the saw-horse, and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound forward and tumbled tip on one side and jack on the other. then he continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own footsteps. "whoa!" shouted tip, picking himself up; "whoa! you idiot--whoa!" the saw-horse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its four legs in the air. tip ran up to it. "you're a nice sort of a horse, i must say!" he exclaimed. "why didn't you stop when i yelled 'whoa?'" "does 'whoa' mean to stop?" asked the saw-horse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy. "of course it does," answered tip. "and a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn't it?" continued the horse. "to be sure; unless you step over it," said tip. "what a strange place this is," the creature exclaimed, as if amazed. "what am i doing here, anyway?" [illustration: "do keep those legs still."] "why, i've brought you to life," answered the boy; "but it won't hurt you any, if you mind me and do as i tell you." "then i will do as you tell me," replied the saw-horse, humbly. "but what happened to me, a moment ago? i don't seem to be just right, someway." "you're upside down," explained tip. "but just keep those legs still a minute and i'll set you right side up again." "how many sides have i?" asked the creature, wonderingly. "several," said tip, briefly. "but do keep those legs still." the saw-horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that tip, after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright. "ah, i seem all right now," said the queer animal, with a sigh. "one of your ears is broken," tip announced, after a careful examination. "i'll have to make a new one." then he led the saw-horse back to where jack was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after assisting the pumpkinhead to stand upright tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse's head. "now," said he, addressing his steed, "pay attention to what i'm going to tell you. 'whoa!' means to stop; 'get-up!' means to walk forward; 'trot!' means to go as fast as you can. understand?" "i believe i do," returned the horse. "very good. we are all going on a journey to the emerald city, to see his majesty, the scarecrow; and jack pumpkinhead is going to ride on your back, so he won't wear out his joints." "i don't mind," said the saw-horse. "anything that suits you suits me." then tip assisted jack to get upon the horse. "hold on tight," he cautioned, "or you may fall off and crack your pumpkin head." "that would be horrible!" said jack, with a shudder. "what shall i hold on to?" "why, hold on to his ears," replied tip, after a moment's hesitation. "don't do that!" remonstrated the saw-horse; "for then i can't hear." that seemed reasonable, so tip tried to think of something else. "i'll fix it!" said he, at length. he went into the wood and cut a short length of limb from a young, stout tree. one end of this he sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of the saw-horse, just behind its head. next he brought a piece of rock from the road and hammered the post firmly into the animal's back. [illustration: "does it hurt?" asked the boy.] "stop! stop!" shouted the horse; "you're jarring me terribly." "does it hurt?" asked the boy. "not exactly hurt," answered the animal; "but it makes me quite nervous to be jarred." "well, it's all over now," said tip, encouragingly. "now, jack, be sure to hold fast to this post, and then you can't fall off and get smashed." so jack held on tight, and tip said to the horse: "get-up." the obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from the ground. tip walked beside the saw-horse, quite content with this addition to their party. presently he began to whistle. "what does that sound mean?" asked the horse. "don't pay any attention to it," said tip. "i'm just whistling, and that only means i'm pretty well satisfied." "i'd whistle myself, if i could push my lips together," remarked jack. "i fear, dear father, that in some respects i am sadly lacking." after journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad road-way, paved with yellow brick. by the side of the road tip noticed a sign-post that read: "nine miles to the emerald city." but it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. he led the saw-horse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the pumpkinhead to alight. "i think i'll lay you upon the ground, overnight," said the boy. "you will be safer that way." "how about me?" asked the saw-horse. "it won't hurt you to stand," replied tip; "and, as you can't sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us." then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: jack pumpkinhead's ride to the emerald city ] at daybreak tip was awakened by the pumpkinhead. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his bread and cheese. having thus prepared for a new day the boy said: "let us start at once. nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to reach the emerald city by noon if no accidents happen." so the pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the saw-horse and the journey was resumed. tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the great city where the scarecrow ruled. the little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. tip was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream. when the man reached the bank tip asked: "will you row us to the other side?" "yes, if you have money," returned the ferryman, whose face looked cross and disagreeable. "but i have no money," said tip. "none at all?" inquired the man. "none at all," answered the boy. "then i'll not break my back rowing you over," said the ferryman, decidedly. "what a nice man!" remarked the pumpkinhead, smilingly. the ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. tip was trying to think, for it was a great disappointment to him to find his journey so suddenly brought to an end. "i must certainly get to the emerald city," he said to the boatman; "but how can i cross the river if you do not take me?" the man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh. "that wooden horse will float," said he; "and you can ride him across. as for the pumpkin-headed loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim--it won't matter greatly which." [illustration] "don't worry about me," said jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; "i'm sure i ought to float beautifully." tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the saw-horse, who did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. so the boy led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. jack also waded in up to his knees and grasped the tail of the horse so that he might keep his pumpkin head above the water. "now," said tip, instructing the saw-horse, "if you wiggle your legs you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the other side." the saw-horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted as oars and moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. so successful was the trip that presently they were climbing, wet and dripping, up the grassy bank. tip's trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly soaked; but the saw-horse had floated so perfectly that from his knees up the boy was entirely dry. as for the pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gorgeous clothing dripped water. "the sun will soon dry us," said tip; "and, anyhow, we are now safely across, in spite of the ferryman, and can continue our journey." "i didn't mind swimming, at all," remarked the horse. "nor did i," added jack. they soon regained the road of yellow brick, which proved to be a continuation of the road they had left on the other side, and then tip once more mounted the pumpkinhead upon the back of the saw-horse. "if you ride fast," said he, "the wind will help to dry your clothing. i will hold on to the horse's tail and run after you. in this way we all will become dry in a very short time." "then the horse must step lively," said jack. "i'll do my best," returned the saw-horse, cheerfully. tip grasped the end of the branch that served as tail to the saw-horse, and called loudly: "get-up!" the horse started at a good pace, and tip followed behind. then he decided they could go faster, so he shouted: "trot!" [illustration] now, the saw-horse remembered that this word was the command to go as fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace, and tip had hard work--running faster than he ever had before in his life--to keep his feet. soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call "whoa!" to the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. then the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a dead branch, suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in the dust of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance. by the time tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust from his throat so he could say "whoa!" there was no further need of saying it, for the horse was long since out of sight. so he did the only sensible thing he could do. he sat down and took a good rest, and afterward began walking along the road. "some time i will surely overtake them," he reflected; "for the road will end at the gates of the emerald city, and they can go no further than that." meantime jack was holding fast to the post and the saw-horse was tearing along the road like a racer. neither of them knew tip was left behind, for the pumpkinhead did not look around and the saw-horse couldn't. as he rode, jack noticed that the grass and trees had become a bright emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the emerald city even before the tall spires and domes came into sight. at length a high wall of green stone, studded thick with emeralds, loomed up before them; and fearing the saw-horse would not know enough to stop and so might smash them both against this wall, jack ventured to cry "whoa!" as loud as he could. so suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post jack would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined. "that was a fast ride, dear father!" he exclaimed; and then, hearing no reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that tip was not there. this apparent desertion puzzled the pumpkinhead, and made him uneasy. and while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what he ought to do next under such trying circumstances, the gateway in the green wall opened and a man came out. this man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed remarkably good-natured. he was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green hat upon his head and green spectacles over his eyes. bowing before the pumpkinhead he said: "i am the guardian of the gates of the emerald city. may i inquire who you are, and what is your business?" "my name is jack pumpkinhead," returned the other, smilingly; "but as to my business, i haven't the least idea in the world what it is." the guardian of the gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if dissatisfied with the reply. "what are you, a man or a pumpkin?" he asked, politely. "both, if you please," answered jack. "and this wooden horse--is it alive?" questioned the guardian. the horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at jack. then it gave a prance and brought one leg down on the guardian's toes. "ouch!" cried the man; "i'm sorry i asked that question. but the answer is most convincing. have you any errand, sir, in the emerald city?" "it seems to me that i have," replied the pumpkinhead, seriously; "but i cannot think what it is. my father knows all about it, but he is not here." "this is a strange affair--very strange!" declared the guardian. "but you seem harmless. folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean mischief." "as for that," said jack, "i cannot help my smile, for it is carved on my face with a jack-knife." "well, come with me into my room," resumed the guardian, "and i will see what can be done for you." so jack rode the saw-horse through the gate-way into a little room built into the wall. the guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very tall soldier--clothed in a green uniform--entered from the opposite door. this soldier carried a long green gun over his shoulder and had lovely green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. the guardian at once addressed him, saying: "here is a strange gentleman who doesn't know why he has come to the emerald city, or what he wants. tell me, what shall we do with him?" the soldier with the green whiskers looked at jack with much care and curiosity. finally he shook his head so positively that little waves rippled down his whiskers, and then he said: "i must take him to his majesty, the scarecrow." "but what will his majesty, the scarecrow, do with him?" asked the guardian of the gates. "that is his majesty's business," returned the soldier. "i have troubles enough of my own. all outside troubles must be turned over to his majesty. so put the spectacles on this fellow, and i'll take him to the royal palace." so the guardian opened a big box of spectacles and tried to fit a pair to jack's great round eyes. "i haven't a pair in stock that will really cover those eyes up," said the little man, with a sigh; "and your head is so big that i shall be obliged to tie the spectacles on." "but why need i wear spectacles?" asked jack. "it's the fashion here," said the soldier, "and they will keep you from being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous emerald city." "oh!" exclaimed jack. "tie them on, by all means. i don't wish to be blinded." "nor i!" broke in the saw-horse; so a pair of green spectacles was quickly fastened over the bulging knots that served it for eyes. then the soldier with the green whiskers led them through the inner gate and they at once found themselves in the main street of the magnificent emerald city. sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. even the green marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time. however, the pumpkinhead and the saw-horse, knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through their green spectacles. they calmly followed after the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at them in surprise. when a green dog ran out and barked at them the saw-horse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace. the pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight into the scarecrow's presence; but the soldier would not permit that. so jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the saw-horse around to the rear while the soldier with the green whiskers escorted the pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance. the stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the soldier went to announce him. it so happened that at this hour his majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room. jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. but when he entered the room and saw for the first time his majesty the scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in amazement. [illustration] [illustration: his majesty the scarecrow ] i suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but jack pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at meeting the remarkable king of the emerald city than by any other one experience of his brief life. his majesty the scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a face. the clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that his majesty's legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was necessary. upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were padded with cotton. wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch's coat and also from his neck and boot-tops. upon his head he wore a heavy golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful expression to the painted face. indeed, the crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the scarecrow king was but a simple scarecrow--flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial. but if the strange appearance of his majesty the scarecrow seemed startling to jack, no less wonderful was the form of the pumpkinhead to the scarecrow. the purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden joints tip had manufactured, and the carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered life the jolliest thing imaginable. at first, indeed, his majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason that the scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the wisest personage in the land of oz. he made a more careful examination of his visitor, and soon discovered that jack's features were carved into a smile and that he could not look grave if he wished to. the king was the first to speak. after regarding [illustration] jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder: "where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?" "i beg your majesty's pardon," returned the pumpkinhead; "but i do not understand you." "what don't you understand?" asked the scarecrow. "why, i don't understand your language. you see, i came from the country of the gillikins, so that i am a foreigner." "ah, to be sure!" exclaimed the scarecrow. "i myself speak the language of the munchkins, which is also the language of the emerald city. but you, i suppose, speak the language of the pumpkinheads?" "exactly so, your majesty," replied the other, bowing; "so it will be impossible for us to understand one another." "that is unfortunate, certainly," said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "we must have an interpreter." "what is an interpreter?" asked jack. "a person who understands both my language and your own. when i say anything, the interpreter can tell you what i mean; and when you say anything the interpreter can tell me what _you_ mean. for the interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them." "that is certainly clever," said jack, greatly pleased at finding so simple a way out of the difficulty. so the scarecrow commanded the soldier with the green whiskers to search among his people until he found one who understood the language of the gillikins as well as the language of the emerald city, and to bring that person to him at once. when the soldier had departed the scarecrow said: "won't you take a chair while we are waiting?" "your majesty forgets that i cannot understand you," replied the pumpkinhead. "if you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so." the scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair to a position behind the pumpkinhead. then he gave jack a sudden push that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that he doubled up like a jack-knife, and had hard work to untangle himself. "did you understand that sign?" asked his majesty, politely. "perfectly," declared jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported it. "you seem hastily made," remarked the scarecrow, watching jack's efforts to straighten himself. "not more so than your majesty," was the frank reply. "there is this difference between us," said the scarecrow, "that whereas i will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend." [illustration: "he gave jack a sudden push."] at this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand. she seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green eyes and hair. a dainty green silk skirt reached to her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles. upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroidered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size. "why, it's little jellia jamb!" exclaimed the scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty head before him. "do you understand the language of the gillikins, my dear?" "yes, your majesty," she answered, "for i was born in the north country." "then you shall be our interpreter," said the scarecrow, "and explain to this pumpkinhead all that i say, and also explain to me all that _he_ says. is this arrangement satisfactory?" he asked, turning toward his guest. "very satisfactory indeed," was the reply. "then ask him, to begin with," resumed the scarecrow, turning to jellia, "what brought him to the emerald city." but instead of this the girl, who had been staring at jack, said to him: "you are certainly a wonderful creature. who made you?" "a boy named tip," answered jack. "what does he say?" inquired the scarecrow. "my ears must have deceived me. what did he say?" "he says that your majesty's brains seem to have come loose," replied the girl, demurely. the scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt of his head with his left hand. "what a fine thing it is to understand two different languages," he said, with a perplexed sigh. "ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the emerald city. "i didn't insult you!" protested jack, indignantly. "tut--tut!" cautioned the scarecrow; "wait until jellia translates my speech. what have we got an interpreter for, if you break out in this rash way?" "all right, i'll wait," replied the pumpkinhead, in a surly tone--although his face smiled as genially as ever. "translate the speech, young woman." "his majesty inquires if you are hungry," said jellia. "oh, not at all!" answered jack, more pleasantly. "for it is impossible for me to eat." "it's the same way with me," remarked the scarecrow. "what did he say, jellia, my dear?" "he asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is painted larger than the other," said the girl, mischievously. "don't you believe her, your majesty," cried jack. "oh, i don't," answered the scarecrow, calmly. then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked: "are you quite certain you understand the languages of both the gillikins and the munchkins?" "quite certain, your majesty," said jellia jamb, trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty. "then how is it that i seem to understand them myself?" inquired the scarecrow. "because they are one and the same!" declared the girl, now laughing merrily. "does not your majesty know that in all the land of oz but one language is spoken?" "is it indeed so?" cried the scarecrow, much relieved to hear this; "then i might easily have been my own interpreter!" "it was all my fault, your majesty," said jack, looking rather foolish, "i thought we must surely speak different languages, since we came from different countries." "this should be a warning to you never to think," returned the scarecrow, severely. "for unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a dummy--which you most certainly are." "i am!--i surely am!" agreed the pumpkinhead. "it seems to me," continued the scarecrow, more mildly, "that your manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man." "i assure your majesty that i did not ask to be created," answered jack. "ah! it was the same in my case," said the king, pleasantly. "and so, as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends." "with all my heart!" exclaimed jack. "what! have you a heart?" asked the scarecrow, surprised. "no; that was only imaginative--i might say, a figure of speech," said the other. "well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so i must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you have no right to exercise," suggested the scarecrow, warningly. "to be sure!" said jack, without in the least comprehending. his majesty then dismissed jellia jamb and the soldier with the green whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by the arm and led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: gen. jinjur's army of revolt ] tip was so anxious to rejoin his man jack and the saw-horse that he walked a full half the distance to the emerald city without stopping to rest. then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he had provided for the journey had all been eaten. while wondering what he should do in this emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the roadside. she wore a costume that struck the boy as being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct colors--blue in front, yellow at the left side, red at the back and purple at the right side. fastening the waist in front were four buttons--the top one blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple. [illustration] the splendor of this dress was almost barbaric; so tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for some moments before his eyes were attracted by the pretty face above it. yes, the face was pretty enough, he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity. while the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. a lunch basket stood beside her, and she held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard-boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused tip's sympathy. he was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. "there!" said she; "it is time for me to go. carry that basket for me and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry." tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a time the strange girl without bothering to ask questions. she walked along before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of decision and importance that led him to suspect she was some great personage. finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps--a very difficult feat, for she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry. "thank you very much for the sandwiches," said tip, as he trotted along. "may i ask your name?" "i am general jinjur," was the brief reply. "oh!" said the boy, surprised. "what sort of a general?" "i command the army of revolt in this war," answered the general, with unnecessary sharpness. "oh!" he again exclaimed. "i didn't know there was a war." "you were not supposed to know it," she returned, "for we have kept it a secret; and considering that our army is composed entirely of girls," she added, with some pride, "it is surely a remarkable thing that our revolt is not yet discovered." "it is, indeed," acknowledged tip. "but where is your army?" "about a mile from here," said general jinjur. "the forces have assembled from all parts of the land of oz, at my express command. for this is the day we are to conquer his majesty the scarecrow, and wrest from him the throne. the army of revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the emerald city." "well!" declared tip, drawing a long breath, "this is certainly a surprising thing! may i ask why you wish to conquer his majesty the scarecrow?" "because the emerald city has been ruled by men long enough, for one reason," said the girl. "moreover, the city glitters with beautiful gems, which might far better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces; and there is enough money in the king's treasury to buy every girl in our army a dozen new gowns. so we intend to conquer the city and run the government to suit ourselves." jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision that proved she was in earnest. "but war is a terrible thing," said tip, thoughtfully. "this war will be pleasant," replied the girl, cheerfully. "many of you will be slain!" continued the boy, in an awed voice. "oh, no," said jinjur. "what man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm her? and there is not an ugly face in my entire army." tip laughed. "perhaps you are right," said he. "but the guardian of the gate is considered a faithful guardian, and the king's army will not let the city be conquered without a struggle." "the army is old and feeble," replied general jinjur, scornfully. "his strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper that she has already pulled more than half of them out by the roots. when the wonderful wizard reigned the soldier with the green whiskers was a very good royal army, for people feared the wizard. but no one is afraid of the scarecrow, so his royal army don't count for much in time of war." after this conversation they proceeded some distance in silence, and before long reached a large clearing in the forest where fully four hundred young women were assembled. these were laughing and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of conquest. they were divided into four companies, and tip noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to that worn by general jinjur. the only real difference was that while those girls from the munchkin country had the blue strip in front of their skirts, those from the country of the quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the country of the winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. all had green waists, representing the emerald city they intended to conquer, and the top button on each waist indicated by its color which country the wearer came from. the uniforms were jaunty and becoming, and quite effective when massed together. tip thought this strange army bore no weapons whatever; but in this he was wrong. for each girl had stuck through the knot of her back hair two long, glittering knitting-needles. [illustration] general jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and addressed her army. "friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!" she said; "we are about to begin our great revolt against the men of oz! we march to conquer the emerald city--to dethrone the scarecrow king--to acquire thousands of gorgeous gems--to rifle the royal treasury--and to obtain power over our former oppressors!" "hurrah!" said those who had listened; but tip thought most of the army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the words of the general. the command to march was now given, and the girls formed themselves into four bands, or companies, and set off with eager strides toward the emerald city. [illustration] the boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and wraps and packages which various members of the army of revolt had placed in his care. it was not long before they came to the green granite walls of the city and halted before the gateway. the guardian of the gate at once came out and looked at them curiously, as if a circus had come to town. he carried a bunch of keys swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were thrust carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the city was threatened by rebels. speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said: "good morning, my dears! what can i do for you?" [illustration] "surrender instantly!" answered general jinjur, standing before him and frowning as terribly as her pretty face would allow her to. "surrender!" echoed the man, astounded. "why, it's impossible. it's against the law! i never heard of such a thing in my life." "still, you must surrender!" exclaimed the general, fiercely. "we are revolting!" "you don't look it," said the guardian, gazing from one to another, admiringly. "but we are!" cried jinjur, stamping her foot, impatiently; "and we mean to conquer the emerald city!" "good gracious!" returned the surprised guardian of the gates; "what a nonsensical idea! go home to your mothers, my good girls, and milk the cows and bake the bread. don't you know it's a dangerous thing to conquer a city?" "we are not afraid!" responded the general; and she looked so determined that it made the guardian uneasy. so he rang the bell for the soldier with the green whiskers, and the next minute was sorry he had done so. for immediately he was surrounded by a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles from their hair and began jabbing them at the guardian with the sharp points dangerously near his fat cheeks and blinking eyes. the poor man howled loudly for mercy and made no resistance when jinjur drew the bunch of keys from around his neck. [illustration: general jinjur and her army capture the city.] followed by her army the general now rushed to the gateway, where she was confronted by the royal army of oz--which was the other name for the soldier with the green whiskers. "halt!" he cried, and pointed his long gun full in the face of the leader. some of the girls screamed and ran back, but general jinjur bravely stood her ground and said, reproachfully: "why, how now? would you shoot a poor, defenceless girl?" "no," replied the soldier; "for my gun isn't loaded." "not loaded?" "no; for fear of accidents. and i've forgotten where i hid the powder and shot to load it with. but if you'll wait a short time i'll try to hunt them up." "don't trouble yourself," said jinjur, cheerfully. then she turned to her army and cried: "girls, the gun isn't loaded!" "hooray," shrieked the rebels, delighted at this good news, and they proceeded to rush upon the soldier with the green whiskers in such a crowd that it was a wonder they didn't stick the knitting-needles into one another. but the royal army of oz was too much afraid of women to meet the onslaught. he simply turned about and ran with all his might through the gate and toward the royal palace, while general jinjur and her mob flocked into the unprotected city. in this way was the emerald city captured without a drop of blood being spilled. the army of revolt had become an army of conquerors! [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the scarecrow plans an escape ] tip slipped away from the girls and followed swiftly after the soldier with the green whiskers. the invading army entered the city more slowly, for they stopped to dig emeralds out of the walls and paving-stones with the points of their knitting-needles. so the soldier and the boy reached the palace before the news had spread that the city was conquered. the scarecrow and jack pumpkinhead were still playing at quoits in the courtyard when the game was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of the royal army of oz, who came flying in without his hat or gun, his clothes in sad disarray and his long beard floating a yard behind him as he ran. "tally one for me," said the scarecrow, calmly. "what's wrong, my man?" he added, addressing the soldier. "oh! your majesty--your majesty! the city is conquered!" gasped the royal army, who was all out of breath. "this is quite sudden," said the scarecrow. "but please go and bar all the doors and windows of the palace, while i show this pumpkinhead how to throw a quoit." the soldier hastened to do this, while tip, who had arrived at his heels, remained in the courtyard to look at the scarecrow with wondering eyes. his majesty continued to throw the quoits as coolly as if no danger threatened his throne, but the pumpkinhead, having caught sight of tip, ambled toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go. "good afternoon, noble parent!" he cried, delightedly. "i'm glad to see you are here. that terrible saw-horse ran away with me." "i suspected it," said tip. "did you get hurt? are you cracked at all?" "no, i arrived safely," answered jack, "and his majesty has been very kind indeed to me." at this moment the soldier with the green whiskers returned, and the scarecrow asked: "by the way, who has conquered me?" "a regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the land of oz," replied the soldier, still pale with fear. "but where was my standing army at the time?" inquired his majesty, looking at the soldier, gravely. "your standing army was running," answered the fellow, honestly; "for no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders." "well," said the scarecrow, after a moment's thought, "i don't mind much the loss of my throne, for it's a tiresome job to rule over the emerald city. and this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. but i hope the conquerors have no intention of injuring me, just because i happen to be the king." "i heard them say," remarked tip, with some hesitation, "that they intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with your inside." "then i am really in danger," declared his majesty, positively, "and it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape." "where can you go?" asked jack pumpkinhead. "why, to my friend the tin woodman, who rules over the winkies, and calls himself their emperor," was the answer. "i am sure he will protect me." [illustration] tip was looking out of the window. "the palace is surrounded by the enemy," said he. "it is too late to escape. they would soon tear you to pieces." the scarecrow sighed. "in an emergency," he announced, "it is always a good thing to pause and reflect. please excuse me while i pause and reflect." "but we also are in danger," said the pumpkinhead, anxiously. "if any of these girls understand cooking, my end is not far off!" "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow; "they're too busy to cook, even if they know how!" "but should i remain here a prisoner for any length of time," protested jack, "i'm liable to spoil." "ah! then you would not be fit to associate with," returned the scarecrow. "the matter is more serious than i suspected." "you," said the pumpkinhead, gloomily, "are liable to live for many years. my life is necessarily short. so i must take advantage of the few days that remain to me." "there, there! don't worry," answered the scarecrow, soothingly; "if you'll keep quiet long enough for me to think, i'll try to find some way for us all to escape." so the others waited in patient silence while the scarecrow walked to a corner and stood with his face to the wall for a good five minutes. at the end of that time he faced them with a more cheerful expression upon his painted face. "where is the saw-horse you rode here?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "why, i said he was a jewel, and so your man locked him up in the royal treasury," said jack. "it was the only place i could think of, your majesty," added the soldier, fearing he had made a blunder. "it pleases me very much," said the scarecrow. "has the animal been fed?" "oh, yes; i gave him a heaping peck of sawdust." "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "bring the horse here at once." the soldier hastened away, and presently they heard the clattering of the horse's wooden legs upon the pavement as he was led into the courtyard. his majesty regarded the steed critically. "he doesn't seem especially graceful," he remarked, musingly; "but i suppose he can run?" "he can, indeed," said tip, gazing upon the saw-horse admiringly. "then, bearing us upon his back, he must make a dash through the ranks of the rebels and carry us to my friend the tin woodman," announced the scarecrow. "he can't carry four!" objected tip. "no, but he may be induced to carry three," said his majesty. "i shall therefore leave my royal army behind. for, from the ease with which he was conquered, i have little confidence in his powers." "still, he can run," declared tip, laughing. "i expected this blow," said the soldier, sulkily; "but i can bear it. i shall disguise myself by cutting off my lovely green whiskers. and, after all, it is no more dangerous to face those reckless girls than to ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!" "perhaps you are right," observed his majesty. "but, for my part, not being a soldier, i am fond of danger. now, my boy, you must mount first. and please sit as close to the horse's neck as possible." tip climbed quickly to his place, and the soldier and the scarecrow managed to hoist the pumpkinhead to a seat just behind him. there remained so little space for the king that he was liable to fall off as soon as the horse started. "fetch a clothesline," said the king to his army, "and tie us all together. then if one falls off we will all fall off." and while the soldier was gone for the clothesline his majesty continued, "it is well for me to be careful, for my very existence is in danger." "i have to be as careful as you do," said jack. "not exactly," replied the scarecrow; "for if anything happened to me, that would be the end of me. but if anything happened to you, they could use you for seed." the soldier now returned with a long line and tied all three firmly together, also lashing them to the body of the saw-horse; so there seemed little danger of their tumbling off. "now throw open the gates," commanded the scarecrow, "and we will make a dash to liberty or to death." the courtyard in which they were standing was located in the center of the great palace, which surrounded it on all sides. but in one place a passage led to an outer gateway, which the soldier had barred by order of his sovereign. it was through this gateway his majesty proposed to escape, and the royal army now led the saw-horse along the passage and unbarred the gate, which swung backward with a loud crash. "now," said tip to the horse, "you must save us all. run as fast as you can for the gate of the city, and don't let anything stop you." "all right!" answered the saw-horse, gruffly, and dashed away so suddenly that tip had to gasp for breath and hold firmly to the post he had driven into the creature's neck. [illustration: "we will make a dash to liberty or to death."] several of the girls, who stood outside guarding the palace, were knocked over by the saw-horse's mad rush. others ran screaming out of the way, and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles frantically at the escaping prisoners. tip got one small prick in his left arm, which smarted for an hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon the scarecrow or jack pumpkinhead, who never even suspected they were being prodded. as for the saw-horse, he made a wonderful record, upsetting a fruit cart, overturning several meek looking men, and finally bowling over the new guardian of the gate--a fussy little fat woman appointed by general jinjur. nor did the impetuous charger stop then. once outside the walls of the emerald city he dashed along the road to the west with fast and violent leaps that shook the breath out of the boy and filled the scarecrow with wonder. jack had ridden at this mad rate once before, so he devoted every effort to holding, with both hands, his pumpkin head upon its stick, enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage of a philosopher. [illustration: the wooden steed gave one final leap.] "slow him up! slow him up!" shouted the scarecrow. "my straw is all shaking down into my legs." but tip had no breath to speak, so the saw-horse continued his wild career unchecked and with unabated speed. presently they came to the banks of a wide river, and without a pause the wooden steed gave one final leap and launched them all in mid-air. a second later they were rolling, splashing and bobbing about in the water, the horse struggling frantically to find a rest for its feet and its riders being first plunged beneath the rapid current and then floating upon the surface like corks. [illustration] [illustration: the journey to the tin woodman ] tip was well soaked and dripping water from every angle of his body; but he managed to lean forward and shout in the ear of the saw-horse: "keep still, you fool! keep still!" the horse at once ceased struggling and floated calmly upon the surface, its wooden body being as buoyant as a raft. "what does that word 'fool' mean?" enquired the horse. "it is a term of reproach," answered tip, somewhat ashamed of the expression. "i only use it when i am angry." "then it pleases me to be able to call you a fool, in return," said the horse. "for i did not make the river, nor put it in our way; so only a term of reproach is fit for one who becomes angry with me for falling into the water." "that is quite evident," replied tip; "so i will acknowledge myself in the wrong." then he called out to the pumpkinhead: "are you all right, jack?" there was no reply. so the boy called to the king: "are you all right, your majesty?" the scarecrow groaned. "i'm all wrong, somehow," he said, in a weak voice. "how very wet this water is!" tip was bound so tightly by the cord that he could not turn his head to look at his companions; so he said to the saw-horse: "paddle with your legs toward the shore." the horse obeyed, and although their progress was slow they finally reached the opposite river bank at a place where it was low enough to enable the creature to scramble upon dry land. with some difficulty the boy managed to get his knife out of his pocket and cut the cords that bound the riders to one another and to the wooden horse. he heard the scarecrow fall to the ground with a mushy sound, and then he himself quickly dismounted and looked at his friend jack. the wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing, still sat upright upon the horse's back; but the pumpkin head was gone, and only the sharpened stick that served for a neck was visible. as for the scarecrow, the straw in his body had shaken down with the jolting and packed itself into his legs and the lower part of his body--which appeared very plump and round while his upper half seemed like an empty sack. upon his head the scarecrow still wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on to prevent his losing it; but the head was now so damp and limp that the weight of the gold and jewels sagged forward and crushed the painted face into a mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a japanese pug dog. tip would have laughed--had he not been so anxious about his man jack. but the scarecrow, however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin head that was so necessary to jack's existence was missing; so the boy seized a long pole that fortunately lay near at hand and anxiously turned again toward the river. far out upon the waters he sighted the golden hue of the pumpkin, which gently bobbed up and down with the motion of the waves. at that moment it was quite out of tip's reach, but after a time it floated nearer and still nearer until the boy was able to reach it with his pole and draw it to the shore. then he brought it to the top of the bank, carefully wiped the water from its pumpkin face with his handkerchief, and ran with it to jack and replaced the head upon the man's neck. [illustration: tip rescues jack's pumpkin head.] "dear me!" were jack's first words. "what a dreadful experience! i wonder if water is liable to spoil pumpkins?" tip did not think a reply was necessary, for he knew that the scarecrow also stood in need of his help. so he carefully removed the straw from the king's body and legs, and spread it out in the sun to dry. the wet clothing he hung over the body of the saw-horse. "if water spoils pumpkins," observed jack, with a deep sigh, "then my days are numbered." "i've never noticed that water spoils pumpkins," returned tip; "unless the water happens to be boiling. if your head isn't cracked, my friend, you must be in fairly good condition." "oh, my head isn't cracked in the least," declared jack, more cheerfully. "then don't worry," retorted the boy. "care once killed a cat." "then," said jack, seriously, "i am very glad indeed that i am not a cat." the sun was fast drying their clothing, and tip stirred up his majesty's straw so that the warm rays might absorb the moisture and make it as crisp and dry as ever. when this had been accomplished he stuffed the scarecrow into symmetrical shape and smoothed out his face so that he wore his usual gay and charming expression. "thank you very much," said the monarch, brightly, as he walked about and found himself to be well balanced. "there are several distinct advantages in being a scarecrow. for if one has friends near at hand to repair damages, nothing very serious can happen to you." "i wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack pumpkins," said jack, with an anxious ring in his voice. "not at all--not at all!" replied the scarecrow, gaily. "all you need fear, my boy, is old age. when your golden youth has decayed we shall quickly part company--but you needn't look forward to it; we'll discover the fact ourselves, and notify you. but come! let us resume our journey. i am anxious to greet my friend the tin woodman." so they remounted the saw-horse, tip holding to the post, the pumpkinhead clinging to tip, and the scarecrow with both arms around the wooden form of jack. [illustration: tip stuffs the scarecrow with dry straw.] "go slowly, for now there is no danger of pursuit," said tip to his steed. "all right!" responded the creature, in a voice rather gruff. "aren't you a little hoarse?" asked the pumpkinhead, politely. the saw-horse gave an angry prance and rolled one knotty eye backward toward tip. "see here," he growled, "can't you protect me from insult?" "to be sure!" answered tip, soothingly. "i am sure jack meant no harm. and it will not do for us to quarrel, you know; we must all remain good friends." "i'll have nothing more to do with that pumpkinhead," declared the saw-horse, viciously; "he loses his head too easily to suit me." there seemed no fitting reply to this speech, so for a time they rode along in silence. after a while the scarecrow remarked: "this reminds me of old times. it was upon this grassy knoll that i once saved dorothy from the stinging bees of the wicked witch of the west." "do stinging bees injure pumpkins?" asked jack, glancing around fearfully. "they are all dead, so it doesn't matter," replied the scarecrow. "and here is where nick chopper destroyed the wicked witch's grey wolves." "who was nick chopper?" asked tip. "that is the name of my friend the tin woodman," answered his majesty. "and here is where the winged monkeys captured and bound us, and flew away with little dorothy," he continued, after they had traveled a little way farther. "do winged monkeys ever eat pumpkins?" asked jack, with a shiver of fear. "i do not know; but you have little cause to worry, for the winged monkeys are now the slaves of glinda the good, who owns the golden cap that commands their services," said the scarecrow, reflectively. then the stuffed monarch became lost in thought, recalling the days of past adventures. and the saw-horse rocked and rolled over the flower-strewn fields and carried its riders swiftly upon their way. * * * * * twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows of night. so tip stopped the horse and they all proceeded to dismount. "i'm tired out," said the boy, yawning wearily; "and the grass is soft and cool. let us lie down here and sleep until morning." "i can't sleep," said jack. "i never do," said the scarecrow. "i do not even know what sleep is," said the saw-horse. "still, we must have consideration for this poor boy, who is made of flesh and blood and bone, and gets tired," suggested the scarecrow, in his usual thoughtful manner. "i remember it was the same way with little dorothy. we always had to sit through the night while she slept." "i'm sorry," said tip, meekly, "but i can't help it. and i'm dreadfully hungry, too!" "here is a new danger!" remarked jack, gloomily. "i hope you are not fond of eating pumpkins." "not unless they're stewed and made into pies," answered the boy, laughing. "so have no fears of me, friend jack." "what a coward that pumpkinhead is!" said the saw-horse, scornfully. "you might be a coward yourself, if you knew you were liable to spoil!" retorted jack, angrily. "there!--there!" interrupted the scarecrow; "don't let us quarrel. we all have our weaknesses, dear friends; so we must strive to be considerate of one another. and since this poor boy is hungry and has nothing whatever to eat, let us all remain quiet and allow him to sleep; for it is said that in sleep a mortal may forget even hunger." "thank you!" exclaimed tip, gratefully. "your majesty is fully as good as you are wise--and that is saying a good deal!" he then stretched himself upon the grass and, using the stuffed form of the scarecrow for a pillow, was presently fast asleep. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: a nickel-plated emperor ] tip awoke soon after dawn, but the scarecrow had already risen and plucked, with his clumsy fingers, a double-handful of ripe berries from some bushes near by. these the boy ate greedily, finding them an ample breakfast, and afterward the little party resumed its journey. after an hour's ride they reached the summit of a hill from whence they espied the city of the winkies and noted the tall domes of the emperor's palace rising from the clusters of more modest dwellings. the scarecrow became greatly animated at this sight, and exclaimed: "how delighted i shall be to see my old friend the tin woodman again! i hope that he rules his people more successfully than i have ruled mine!" "is the tin woodman the emperor of the winkies?" asked the horse. "yes, indeed. they invited him to rule over them soon after the wicked witch was destroyed; and as nick chopper has the best heart in all the world i am sure he has proved an excellent and able emperor." "i thought that 'emperor' was the title of a person who rules an empire," said tip, "and the country of the winkies is only a kingdom." "don't mention that to the tin woodman!" exclaimed the scarecrow, earnestly. "you would hurt his feelings terribly. he is a proud man, as he has every reason to be, and it pleases him to be termed emperor rather than king." "i'm sure it makes no difference to me," replied the boy. the saw-horse now ambled forward at a pace so fast that its riders had hard work to stick upon its back; so there was little further conversation until they drew up beside the palace steps. an aged winkie, dressed in a uniform of silver cloth, came forward to assist them to alight. said the scarecrow to this personage: "show us at once to your master, the emperor." the man looked from one to another of the party in an embarrassed way, and finally answered: "i fear i must ask you to wait for a time. the emperor is not receiving this morning." "how is that?" enquired the scarecrow, anxiously. "i hope nothing has happened to him." "oh, no; nothing serious," returned the man. "but this is his majesty's day for being polished, and just now his august presence is thickly smeared with putz-pomade." "oh, i see!" cried the scarecrow, greatly reassured. "my friend was ever inclined to be a dandy, and i suppose he is now more proud than ever of his personal appearance." "he is, indeed," said the man, with a polite bow. "our mighty emperor has lately caused himself to be nickel-plated." "good gracious!" the scarecrow exclaimed at hearing this. "if his wit bears the same polish, how sparkling it must be! but show us in--i'm sure the emperor will receive us, even in his present state." "the emperor's state is always magnificent," said the man. "but i will venture to tell him of your arrival, and will receive his commands concerning you." so the party followed the servant into a splendid ante-room, and the saw-horse ambled awkwardly after them, having no knowledge that a horse might be expected to remain outside. the travelers were at first somewhat awed by their surroundings, and even the scarecrow seemed impressed as he examined the rich hangings of silver cloth caught up into knots and fastened with tiny silver axes. upon a handsome center-table stood a large silver oil-can, richly engraved with scenes from the past adventures of the tin woodman, dorothy, the cowardly lion and the scarecrow: the lines of the engraving being traced upon the silver in yellow gold. on the walls hung several portraits, that of the scarecrow seeming to be the most prominent and carefully executed, while a large painting of the famous wizard of oz, in the act of presenting the tin woodman with a heart, covered almost one entire end of the room. while the visitors gazed at these things in silent admiration they suddenly heard a loud voice in the next room exclaim: "well! well! well! what a great surprise!" and then the door burst open and nick chopper rushed into their midst and caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace that creased him into many folds and wrinkles. "my dear old friend! my noble comrade!" cried the tin woodman, joyfully; "how delighted i am to meet you once again!" [illustration: caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace.] and then he released the scarecrow and held him at arms' length while he surveyed the beloved, painted features. but, alas! the face of the scarecrow and many portions of his body bore great blotches of putz-pomade; for the tin woodman, in his eagerness to welcome his friend, had quite forgotten the condition of his toilet and had rubbed the thick coating of paste from his own body to that of his comrade. "dear me!" said the scarecrow, dolefully. "what a mess i'm in!" "never mind, my friend," returned the tin woodman, "i'll send you to my imperial laundry, and you'll come out as good as new." "won't i be mangled?" asked the scarecrow. "no, indeed!" was the reply. "but tell me, how came your majesty here? and who are your companions?" the scarecrow, with great politeness, introduced tip and jack pumpkinhead, and the latter personage seemed to interest the tin woodman greatly. "you are not very substantial, i must admit," said the emperor; "but you are certainly unusual, and therefore worthy to become a member of our select society." "i thank your majesty," said jack, humbly. [illustration] "i hope you are enjoying good health?" continued the woodman. "at present, yes;" replied the pumpkinhead, with a sigh; "but i am in constant terror of the day when i shall spoil." "nonsense!" said the emperor--but in a kindly, sympathetic tone. "do not, i beg of you, dampen today's sun with the showers of tomorrow. for before your head has time to spoil you can have it canned, and in that way it may be preserved indefinitely." tip, during this conversation, was looking at the woodman with undisguised amazement, and noticed that the celebrated emperor of the winkies was composed entirely of pieces of tin, neatly soldered and riveted together into the form of a man. he rattled and clanked a little, as he moved, but in the main he seemed to be most cleverly constructed, and his appearance was only marred by the thick coating of polishing-paste that covered him from head to foot. the boy's intent gaze caused the tin woodman to remember that he was not in the most presentable condition, so he begged his friends to excuse him while he retired to his private apartment and allowed his servants to polish him. this was accomplished in a short time, and when the emperor returned his nickel-plated body shone so magnificently that the scarecrow heartily congratulated him on his improved appearance. "that nickel-plate was, i confess, a happy thought," said nick; "and it was the more necessary because i had become somewhat scratched during my adventurous experiences. you will observe this engraved star upon my left breast. it not only indicates where my excellent heart lies, but covers very neatly the patch made by the wonderful wizard when he placed that valued organ in my breast with his own skillful hands." "is your heart, then, a hand-organ?" asked the pumpkinhead, curiously. "by no means," responded the emperor, with dignity. "it is, i am convinced, a strictly orthodox heart, although somewhat larger and warmer than most people possess." then he turned to the scarecrow and asked: "are your subjects happy and contented, my dear friend?" "i cannot say," was the reply; "for the girls of oz have risen in revolt and driven me out of the emerald city." "great goodness!" cried the tin woodman. "what a calamity! they surely do not complain of your wise and gracious rule?" "no; but they say it is a poor rule that don't work both ways," answered the scarecrow; "and these females are also of the opinion that men have ruled the land long enough. so they have captured my city, robbed the treasury of all its jewels, and are running things to suit themselves." "dear me! what an extraordinary idea!" cried the emperor, who was both shocked and surprised. "and i heard some of them say," said tip, "that they intend to march here and capture the castle and city of the tin woodman." "ah! we must not give them time to do that," said the emperor, quickly; "we will go at once and recapture the emerald city and place the scarecrow again upon his throne." [illustration: renovating his majesty, the scarecrow.] "i was sure you would help me," remarked the scarecrow in a pleased voice. "how large an army can you assemble?" "we do not need an army," replied the woodman. "we four, with the aid of my gleaming axe, are enough to strike terror into the hearts of the rebels." "we five," corrected the pumpkinhead. "five?" repeated the tin woodman. "yes; the saw-horse is brave and fearless," answered jack, forgetting his recent quarrel with the quadruped. the tin woodman looked around him in a puzzled way, for the saw-horse had until now remained quietly standing in a corner, where the emperor had not noticed him. tip immediately called the odd-looking creature to them, and it approached so awkwardly that it nearly upset the beautiful center-table and the engraved oil-can. "i begin to think," remarked the tin woodman as he looked earnestly at the saw-horse, "that wonders will never cease! how came this creature alive?" "i did it with a magic powder," modestly asserted the boy; "and the saw-horse has been very useful to us." "he enabled us to escape the rebels," added the scarecrow. "then we must surely accept him as a comrade," declared the emperor. "a live saw-horse is a distinct novelty, and should prove an interesting study. does he know anything?" "well, i cannot claim any great experience in life," the saw-horse answered for himself; "but i seem to learn very quickly, and often it occurs to me that i know more than any of those around me." "perhaps you do," said the emperor; "for experience does not always mean wisdom. but time is precious just now, so let us quickly make preparations to start upon our journey." the emperor called his lord high chancellor and instructed him how to run the kingdom during his absence. meanwhile the scarecrow was taken apart and the painted sack that served him for a head was carefully laundered and restuffed with the brains originally given him by the great wizard. his clothes were also cleaned and pressed by the imperial tailors, and his crown polished and again sewed upon his head, for the tin woodman insisted he should not renounce this badge of royalty. the scarecrow now presented a very respectable appearance, and although in no way addicted to vanity he was quite pleased with himself and strutted a trifle as he walked. while this was being done tip mended the wooden limbs of jack pumpkinhead and made them stronger than before, and the saw-horse was also inspected to see if he was in good working order. then bright and early the next morning they set out upon the return journey to the emerald city, the tin woodman bearing upon his shoulder a gleaming axe and leading the way, while the pumpkinhead rode upon the saw-horse and tip and the scarecrow walked upon either side to make sure that he didn't fall off or become damaged. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. ] now, general jinjur--who, you will remember, commanded the army of revolt--was rendered very uneasy by the escape of the scarecrow from the emerald city. she feared, and with good reason, that if his majesty and the tin woodman joined forces, it would mean danger to her and her entire army; for the people of oz had not yet forgotten the deeds of these famous heroes, who had passed successfully through so many startling adventures. so jinjur sent post-haste for old mombi, the witch, and promised her large rewards if she would come to the assistance of the rebel army. mombi was furious at the trick tip had played upon her, as well as at his escape and the theft of the precious powder of life; so she needed no urging to induce her to travel to the emerald city to assist jinjur in defeating the scarecrow and the tin woodman, who had made tip one of their friends. mombi had no sooner arrived at the royal palace than she discovered, by means of her secret magic, that the adventurers were starting upon their journey to the emerald city; so she retired to a small room high up in a tower and locked herself in while she practised such arts as she could command to prevent the return of the scarecrow and his companions. that was why the tin woodman presently stopped and said: "something very curious has happened. i ought to know by heart every step of this journey, and yet i fear we have already lost our way." "that is quite impossible!" protested the scarecrow. "why do you think, my dear friend, that we have gone astray?" "why, here before us is a great field of sunflowers--and i never saw this field before in all my life." at these words they all looked around, only to find that they were indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk bearing at its top a gigantic sunflower. and not only were these flowers almost blinding in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon its stalk like a miniature wind-mill, completely dazzling the vision of the beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn. "it's witchcraft!" exclaimed tip. while they paused, hesitating and wondering, the tin woodman uttered a cry of impatience and advanced with swinging axe to cut down the stalks before him. but now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid whirling, and the travelers plainly saw a girl's face appear in the center of each flower. these lovely faces looked upon the astonished band with mocking smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their appearance caused. "stop! stop!" cried tip, seizing the woodman's arm; "they're alive! they're girls!" at that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces faded away and were lost in the rapid revolutions. the tin woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground. "it would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures," said he, despondently; "and yet i do not know how else we can proceed upon our way." "they looked to me strangely like the faces of the army of revolt," mused the scarecrow. "but i cannot conceive how the girls could have followed us here so quickly." "i believe it's magic," said tip, positively, "and that someone is playing a trick upon us. i've known old mombi do things like that before. probably it's nothing more than an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all." "then let us shut our eyes and walk forward," suggested the woodman. "excuse me," replied the scarecrow. "my eyes are not painted to shut. because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way." "and the eyes of the saw-horse are knot eyes," said jack, leaning forward to examine them. "nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward," commanded tip, "and we will follow after you and so try to escape. my eyes are already so dazzled that i can scarcely see." so the pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and tip grasped the stub tail of the saw-horse and followed with closed eyes. the scarecrow and the tin woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a joyful shout from jack announced that the way was clear before them. then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained. more cheerfully, now, they proceeded upon their journey; but old mombi had so changed the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the scarecrow wisely concluded to take their direction from the sun. for no witchcraft could change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide. however, other difficulties lay before them. the saw-horse stepped into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground. the pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact moment had not the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it descended and saved it from injury. tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced jack upon his feet. but the saw-horse did not escape so easily. for when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther. "this is quite serious," said the tin woodman. "if there were trees near by i might soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but i cannot see even a shrub for miles around." [illustration: the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin] "and there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of oz," added the scarecrow, disconsolately. "then what shall we do?" enquired the boy. "i suppose i must start my brains working," replied his majesty the scarecrow; "for experience has taught me that i can do anything if i but take time to think it out." "let us all think," said tip; "and perhaps we shall find a way to repair the saw-horse." so they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the saw-horse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb. "does it hurt?" asked the tin woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice. "not in the least," returned the saw-horse; "but my pride is injured to find that my anatomy is so brittle." for a time the little group remained in silent thought. presently the tin woodman raised his head and looked over the fields. "what sort of creature is that which approaches us?" he asked, wonderingly. the others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. it advanced quickly and noiselessly over the soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own. the scarecrow was calm under all circumstances. "good morning!" he said, politely. the stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded: [illustration] "good morning, one and all. i hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. permit me to present my card." with this courteous speech it extended a card toward the scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and then handed it with a shake of his head to tip. the boy read aloud: "mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e." "dear me!" ejaculated the pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently. "how very peculiar!" said the tin woodman. tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the saw-horse uttered a sigh and turned away its head. "are you really a woggle-bug?" enquired the scarecrow. "most certainly, my dear sir!" answered the stranger, briskly. "is not my name upon the card?" "it is," said the scarecrow. "but may i ask what 'h. m.' stands for?" "'h. m.' means highly magnified," returned the woggle-bug, proudly. "oh, i see." the scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. "and are you, in truth, highly magnified?" "sir," said the woggle-bug, "i take you for a gentleman of judgment and discernment. does it not occur to you that i am several thousand times greater than any woggle-bug you ever saw before? therefore it is plainly evident that i am highly magnified, and there is no good reason why you should doubt the fact." "pardon me," returned the scarecrow. "my brains are slightly mixed since i was last laundered. would it be improper for me to ask, also, what the 't. e.' at the end of your name stands for?" "those letters express my degree," answered the woggle-bug, with a condescending smile. "to be more explicit, the initials mean that i am thoroughly educated." "oh!" said the scarecrow, much relieved. tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. what he saw was a great, round, bug-like body supported upon two slender legs which ended in delicate feet--the toes curling upward. the body of the woggle-bug was rather flat, and judging from what could be seen of it was of a glistening dark brown color upon the back, while the front was striped with alternate bands of light brown and white, blending together at the edges. its arms were fully as slender as its legs, and upon a rather long neck was perched its head--not unlike the head of a man, except that its nose ended in a curling antenna, or "feeler," and its ears from the upper points bore antennã¦ that decorated the sides of its head like two miniature, curling pig tails. it must be admitted that the round, black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon the woggle-bug's face was by no means unpleasant. for dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallow-tail coat with a yellow silk lining and a flower in the button-hole; a vest of white duck that stretched tightly across the wide body; knickerbockers of fawn-colored plush, fastened at the knees with gilt buckles; and, perched upon its small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat. standing upright before our amazed friends the woggle-bug appeared to be fully as tall as the tin woodman; and surely no bug in all the land of oz had ever before attained so enormous a size. "i confess," said the scarecrow, "that your abrupt appearance has caused me surprise, and no doubt has startled my companions. i hope, however, that this circumstance will not distress you. we shall probably get used to you in time." "do not apologize, i beg of you!" returned the woggle-bug, earnestly. "it affords me great pleasure to surprise people; for surely i cannot be classed with ordinary insects and am entitled to both curiosity and admiration from those i meet." "you are, indeed," agreed his majesty. "if you will permit me to seat myself in your august company," continued the stranger, "i will gladly relate my history, so that you will be better able to comprehend my unusual--may i say remarkable?--appearance." "you may say what you please," answered the tin woodman, briefly. so the woggle-bug sat down upon the grass, facing the little group of wanderers, and told them the following story: [illustration] [illustration: a highly magnified history ] "it is but honest that i should acknowledge at the beginning of my recital that i was born an ordinary woggle-bug," began the creature, in a frank and friendly tone. "knowing no better, i used my arms as well as my legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid among the roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than myself to feed upon. "the chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless, for i wore no clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new life and restored me to activity. a horrible existence is this, but you must remember it is the regularly ordained existence of woggle-bugs, as well as of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth. "but destiny had singled me out, humble though i was, for a grander fate! one day i crawled near to a country school house, and my curiosity being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, i made bold to enter and creep along a crack between two boards until i reached the far end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at his desk. "no one noticed so small a creature as a woggle-bug, and when i found that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine, i resolved to establish my future home beside it. so i found a charming nest between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months. "professor nowitall is, doubtless, the most famous scholar in the land of oz, and after a few days i began to listen to the lectures and discourses he gave his pupils. not one of them was more attentive than the humble, unnoticed woggle-bug, and i acquired in this way a fund of knowledge that i will myself confess is simply marvelous. that is why i place 't. e.'--thoroughly educated--upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies in the fact that the world cannot produce another woggle-bug with a tenth part of my own culture and erudition." "i do not blame you," said the scarecrow. "education is a thing to be proud of. i'm educated myself. the mess of brains given me by the great wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled." "nevertheless," interrupted the tin woodman, "a good heart is, i believe, much more desirable than education or brains." "to me," said the saw-horse, "a good leg is more desirable than either." "could seeds be considered in the light of brains?" enquired the pumpkinhead, abruptly. "keep quiet!" commanded tip, sternly. "very well, dear father," answered the obedient jack. the woggle-bug listened patiently--even respectfully--to these remarks, and then resumed his story. "i must have lived fully three years in that secluded school-house hearth," said he, "drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of limpid knowledge before me." "quite poetical," commented the scarecrow, nodding his head approvingly. [illustration: "caught me between his thumb and forefinger."] "but one day," continued the bug, "a marvelous circumstance occurred that altered my very existence and brought me to my present pinnacle of greatness. the professor discovered me in the act of crawling across the hearth, and before i could escape he had caught me between his thumb and forefinger. "'my dear children,' said he, 'i have captured a woggle-bug--a very rare and interesting specimen. do any of you know what a woggle-bug is?' "'no!' yelled the scholars, in chorus. "'then,' said the professor, 'i will get out my famous magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a highly-magnified condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction and become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.' "he then brought from a cupboard a most curious instrument, and before i could realize what had happened i found myself thrown upon a screen in a highly-magnified state--even as you now behold me. "the students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the sill of an open window where they could see more plainly. "'behold!' cried the professor, in a loud voice, 'this highly-magnified woggle-bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!' "being thoroughly educated, and knowing what is required of a cultured gentleman, at this juncture i stood upright and, placing my hand upon my bosom, made a very polite bow. my action, being unexpected, must have startled them, for one of the little girls perched upon the window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the window, drawing her companion with her as she disappeared. [illustration: "the students stood up on their stools."] "the professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed away through the door to see if the poor children were injured by the fall. the scholars followed after him in a wild mob, and i was left alone in the school-room, still in a highly-magnified state and free to do as i pleased. "it immediately occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to escape. i was proud of my great size, and realized that now i could safely travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would make me a fit associate for the most learned person i might chance to meet. "so, while the professor picked the little girls--who were more frightened than hurt--off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him closely grouped, i calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner, and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near." "wonderful!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead, admiringly. "it was, indeed," agreed the woggle-bug. "i have never ceased to congratulate myself for escaping while i was highly magnified; for even my excessive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had i remained a tiny, insignificant insect." [illustration] "i didn't know before," said tip, looking at the woggle-bug with a puzzled expression, "that insects wore clothes." "nor do they, in their natural state," returned the stranger. "but in the course of my wanderings i had the good fortune to save the ninth life of a tailor--tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know. the fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that ninth life it would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with the stylish costume i now wear. it fits very nicely, does it not?" and the woggle-bug stood up and turned himself around slowly, that all might examine his person. "he must have been a good tailor," said the scarecrow, somewhat enviously. "he was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate," observed nick chopper. "but where were you going, when you met us?" tip asked the woggle-bug. "nowhere in particular," was the reply, "although it is my intention soon to visit the emerald city and arrange to give a course of lectures to select audiences on the 'advantages of magnification.'" "we are bound for the emerald city now," said the tin woodman; "so, if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company." the woggle-bug bowed with profound grace. "it will give me great pleasure," said he, "to accept your kind invitation; for nowhere in the land of oz could i hope to meet with so congenial a company." "that is true," acknowledged the pumpkinhead. "we are quite as congenial as flies and honey." "but--pardon me if i seem inquisitive--are you not all rather--ahem!--rather unusual?" asked the woggle-bug, looking from one to another with unconcealed interest. "not more so than yourself," answered the scarecrow. "everything in life is unusual until you get accustomed to it." "what rare philosophy!" exclaimed the woggle-bug, admiringly. "yes; my brains are working well today," admitted the scarecrow, an accent of pride in his voice. "then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend our steps toward the emerald city," suggested the magnified one. "we can't," said tip. "the saw-horse has broken a leg, so he can't bend his steps. and there is no wood around to make him a new limb from. and we can't leave the horse behind because the pumpkinhead is so stiff in his joints that he has to ride." "how very unfortunate!" cried the woggle-bug. then he looked the party over carefully and said: "if the pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a leg for the horse that carries him? i judge that both are made of wood." "now, that is what i call real cleverness," said the scarecrow, approvingly. "i wonder my brains did not think of that long ago! get to work, my dear nick, and fit the pumpkinhead's leg to the saw-horse." jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he submitted to having his left leg amputated by the tin woodman and whittled down to fit the left leg of the saw-horse. nor was the saw-horse especially pleased with the operation, either; for he growled a good deal about being "butchered," as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg was a disgrace to a respectable saw-horse. "i beg you to be more careful in your speech," said the pumpkinhead, sharply. "remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing." "i cannot forget it," retorted the saw-horse, "for it is quite as flimsy as the rest of your person." "flimsy! me flimsy!" cried jack, in a rage. "how dare you call me flimsy?" "because you are built as absurdly as a jumping-jack," sneered the horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. "even your head won't stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or forward!" "friends, i entreat you not to quarrel!" pleaded the tin woodman, anxiously. "as a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let us bear with each others' faults." "an excellent suggestion," said the woggle-bug, approvingly. "you must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend." "i have," returned nick, well pleased. "my heart is quite the best part of me. but now let us start upon our journey." they perched the one-legged pumpkinhead upon the saw-horse, and tied him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off. and then, following the lead of the scarecrow, they all advanced in the direction of the emerald city. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: old mombi indulges in witchcraft ] they soon discovered that the saw-horse limped, for his new leg was a trifle too long. so they were obliged to halt while the tin woodman chopped it down with his axe, after which the wooden steed paced along more comfortably. but the saw-horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet. "it was a shame that i broke my other leg!" it growled. "on the contrary," airily remarked the woggle-bug, who was walking alongside, "you should consider the accident most fortunate. for a horse is never of much use until he has been broken." "i beg your pardon," said tip, rather provoked, for he felt a warm interest in both the saw-horse and his man jack; "but permit me to say that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor." "still, it is a joke," declared the woggle-bug, firmly, "and a joke derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people to be eminently proper." "what does that mean?" enquired the pumpkinhead, stupidly. "it means, my dear friend," explained the woggle-bug, "that our language contains many words having a double meaning; and that to pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word, proves the joker a person of culture and refinement, who has, moreover, a thorough command of the language." "i don't believe that," said tip, plainly; "anybody can make a pun." "not so," rejoined the woggle-bug, stiffly. "it requires education of a high order. are you educated, young sir?" "not especially," admitted tip. "then you cannot judge the matter. i myself am thoroughly educated, and i say that puns display genius. for instance, were i to ride upon this saw-horse, he would not only be an animal--he would become an equipage. for he would then be a horse-and-buggy." at this the scarecrow gave a gasp and the tin woodman stopped short and looked reproachfully at the woggle-bug. at the same time the saw-horse loudly snorted his derision; and even the pumpkinhead put up his hand to hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face, he could not change to a frown. but the woggle-bug strutted along as if he had made some brilliant remark, and the scarecrow was obliged to say: "i have heard, my dear friend, that a person can become over-educated; and although i have a high respect for brains, no matter how they may be arranged or classified, i begin to suspect that yours are slightly tangled. in any event, i must beg you to restrain your superior education while in our society." "we are not very particular," added the tin woodman; "and we are exceedingly kind hearted. but if your superior culture gets leaky again--" he did not complete the sentence, but he twirled his gleaming axe so carelessly that the woggle-bug looked frightened, and shrank away to a safe distance. the others marched on in silence, and the highly-magnified one, after a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice: "i will endeavor to restrain myself." "that is all we can expect," returned the scarecrow, pleasantly; and good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded upon their way. when they again stopped to allow tip to rest--the boy being the only one that seemed to tire--the tin woodman noticed many small, round holes in the grassy meadow. "this must be a village of the field mice," he said to the scarecrow. "i wonder if my old friend, the queen of the mice, is in this neighborhood." "if she is, she may be of great service to us," answered the scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. "see if you can call her, my dear nick." so the tin woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung around his neck, and presently a tiny grey mouse popped from a near-by hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. for the tin woodman had once saved her life, and the queen of the field mice knew he was to be trusted. "good day, your majesty," said nick, politely addressing the mouse; "i trust you are enjoying good health?" "thank you, i am quite well," answered the queen, demurely, as she sat up and displayed the tiny golden crown upon her head. "can i do anything to assist my old friends?" "you can, indeed," replied the scarecrow, eagerly. "let me, i intreat you, take a dozen of your subjects with me to the emerald city." "will they be injured in any way?" asked the queen, doubtfully. "i think not," replied the scarecrow. "i will carry them hidden in the straw which stuffs my body, and when i give them the signal by unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper home again as fast as they can. by doing this they will assist me to regain my throne, which the army of revolt has taken from me." "in that case," said the queen, "i will not refuse your request. whenever you are ready, i will call twelve of my most intelligent subjects." "i am ready now," returned the scarecrow. then he lay flat upon the ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with which he was stuffed. the queen uttered a little piping call, and in an instant a dozen pretty field mice had emerged from their holes and stood before their ruler, awaiting her orders. what the queen said to them none of our travelers could understand, for it was in the mouse language; but the field mice obeyed without hesitation, running one after the other to the scarecrow and hiding themselves in the straw of his breast. when all of the twelve mice had thus concealed themselves, the scarecrow buttoned his jacket securely and then arose and thanked the queen for her kindness. "one thing more you might do to serve us," suggested the tin woodman; "and that is to run ahead and show us the way to the emerald city. for some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it." "i will do that gladly," returned the queen. "are you ready?" the tin woodman looked at tip. "i'm rested," said the boy. "let us start." then they resumed their journey, the little grey queen of the field mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near, when away she would dart again. without this unerring guide the scarecrow and his comrades might never have gained the emerald city; for many were the obstacles thrown in their way by the arts of old mombi. yet not one of the obstacles really existed--all were cleverly contrived deceptions. for when they came to the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way the little queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in safety; and our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water. again, a high wall of granite towered high above their heads and opposed their advance. but the grey field mouse walked straight through it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed it. afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow tip to rest, they saw forty roads branching off from their feet in forty different directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty wheel, first in one direction and then in the other, completely bewildering their vision. but the queen called for them to follow her and darted off in a straight line; and when they had gone a few paces the whirling pathways vanished and were seen no more. mombi's last trick was most fearful of all. she sent a sheet of crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first time the scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly. "if that fire reaches me i will be gone in no time!" said he, trembling until his straw rattled. "it's the most dangerous thing i ever encountered." "i'm off, too!" cried the saw-horse, turning and prancing with agitation; "for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings." "is fire dangerous to pumpkins?" asked jack, fearfully. [illustration] "you'll be baked like a tart--and so will i!" answered the woggle-bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster. but the tin woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede by a few sensible words. "look at the field mouse!" he shouted. "the fire does not burn her in the least. in fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception." indeed, to watch the little queen march calmly through the advancing flames restored courage to every member of the party, and they followed her without being even scorched. "this is surely a most extraordinary adventure," said the woggle-bug, who was greatly amazed; "for it upsets all the natural laws that i heard professor nowitall teach in the school-house." "of course it does," said the scarecrow, wisely. "all magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided. but i see before us the gates of the emerald city, so i imagine we have now overcome all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us." indeed, the walls of the city were plainly visible, and the queen of the field mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to bid them good-bye. "we are very grateful to your majesty for your kind assistance," said the tin woodman, bowing before the pretty creature. "i am always pleased to be of service to my friends," answered the queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home. [illustration] [illustration: the prisoners of the queen ] approaching the gateway of the emerald city the travelers found it guarded by two girls of the army of revolt, who opposed their entrance by drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to prod the first that came near. but the tin woodman was not afraid. "at the worst they can but scratch my beautiful nickel-plate," he said. "but there will be no 'worst,' for i think i can manage to frighten these absurd soldiers very easily. follow me closely, all of you!" then, swinging his axe in a great circle to right and left before him, he advanced upon the gate, and the others followed him without hesitation. the girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so that our travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace. "at this rate we will soon have your majesty upon the throne again," said the tin woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards. "thank you, friend nick," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe." as they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat around in groups, gossiping and laughing. "what has happened?" the scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the sidewalk. "why, we've had a revolution, your majesty--as you ought to know very well," replied the man; "and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. i'm glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing out the strength of every man in the emerald city." "hm!" said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "if it is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?" "i really do not know," replied the man, with a deep sigh. "perhaps the women are made of cast-iron." no movement was made, as they passed along the street, to oppose their progress. several of the women stopped their gossip long enough to cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn away with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. and when they met with several girls belonging to the army of revolt, those soldiers, instead of being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of the way and allowed them to advance without protest. this action rendered the scarecrow uneasy. "i'm afraid we are walking into a trap," said he. "nonsense!" returned nick chopper, confidently; "the silly creatures are conquered already!" but the scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed doubt, and tip said: "it's too easy, altogether. look out for trouble ahead." "i will," returned his majesty. [illustration: "it's too easy, altogether."] unopposed they reached the royal palace and marched up the marble steps, which had once been thickly encrusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the army of revolt. and so far not a rebel barred their way. through the arched hallways and into the magnificent throne room marched the tin woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight. seated within the glittering throne was general jinjur, with the scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in her right hand. a box of caramels, from which she was eating, rested in her lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings. the scarecrow stepped forward and confronted her, while the tin woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a half-circle back of his majesty's person. "how dare you sit in my throne?" demanded the scarecrow, sternly eyeing the intruder. "don't you know you are guilty of treason, and that there is a law against treason?" "the throne belongs to whoever is able to take it," answered jinjur, as she slowly ate another caramel. "i have taken it, as you see; so just now i am the queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of treason, and must be punished by the law you have just mentioned." this view of the case puzzled the scarecrow. "how is it, friend nick?" he asked, turning to the tin woodman. "why, when it comes to law, i have nothing to say," answered that personage; "for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is foolish to make the attempt." "then what shall we do?" asked the scarecrow, in dismay. "why don't you marry the queen? and then you can both rule," suggested the woggle-bug. jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. "why don't you send her back to her mother, where she belongs?" asked jack pumpkinhead. jinjur frowned. "why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and promises to be good?" enquired tip. jinjur's lip curled scornfully. "or give her a good shaking!" added the saw-horse. "no," said the tin woodman, "we must treat the poor girl with gentleness. let us give her all the jewels she can carry, and send her away happy and contented." at this queen jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute clapped her pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal. "you are very absurd creatures," said she; "but i am tired of your nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer." while the monarch and his friends listened in amazement to this impudent speech, a startling thing happened. the tin woodman's axe was snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and he found himself disarmed and helpless. at the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came they found themselves surrounded by the army of revolt, the girls bearing in either hand their glistening knitting-needles. the entire throne room seemed to be filled with the rebels, and the scarecrow and his comrades realized that they were prisoners. "you see how foolish it is to oppose a woman's wit," said jinjur, gaily; "and this event only proves that i am more fit to rule the emerald city than a scarecrow. i bear you no ill will, i assure you; but lest you should prove troublesome to me in the future i shall order you all to be destroyed. that is, all except the boy, who belongs to old mombi and must be restored to her keeping. the rest of you are not human, and therefore it will not be wicked to demolish you. the saw-horse and the pumpkinhead's body i will have chopped up for kindling-wood; and the pumpkin shall be made into tarts. the scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and the tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the goats. as for this immense woggle-bug--" "highly magnified, if you please!" interrupted the insect. "i think i will ask the cook to make green-turtle soup of you," continued the queen, reflectively. the woggle-bug shuddered. "or, if that won't do, we might use you for a hungarian goulash, stewed and highly spiced," she added, cruelly. this programme of extermination was so terrible that the prisoners looked upon one another in a panic of fear. the scarecrow alone did not give way to despair. he stood quietly before the queen and his brow was wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape. while thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast move gently. at once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising his hand he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket. [illustration] this action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd of girls clustering about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered away between the feet of the army of revolt. another mouse quickly followed; then another and another, in rapid succession. and suddenly such a scream of terror went up from the army that it might easily have filled the stoutest heart with consternation. the flight that ensued turned to a stampede, and the stampede to a panic. for while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the girls disappeared from the palace--pushing and crowding one another in their mad efforts to escape. the queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. then a mouse ran up the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor jinjur shot clear over the head of the scarecrow and escaped through an archway--never pausing in her wild career until she had reached the city gates. so, in less time than i can explain, the throne room was deserted by all save the scarecrow and his friends, and the woggle-bug heaved a deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed: "thank goodness, we are saved!" "for a time, yes;" answered the tin woodman. "but the enemy will soon return, i fear." "let us bar all the entrances to the palace!" said the scarecrow. "then we shall have time to think what is best to be done." so all except jack pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the saw-horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. then, knowing that the army of revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days, the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the scarecrow takes time to think ] "it seems to me," began the scarecrow, when all were again assembled in the throne room, "that the girl jinjur is quite right in claiming to be queen. and if she is right, then i am wrong, and we have no business to be occupying her palace." "but you were the king until she came," said the woggle-bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you." "especially as we have just conquered her and put her to flight," added the pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward the scarecrow. "have we really conquered her?" asked the scarecrow, quietly. "look out of the window, and tell me what you see." tip ran to the window and looked out. "the palace is surrounded by a double row of girl soldiers," he announced. "i thought so," returned the scarecrow. "we are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace." "my friend is right," said nick chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "jinjur is still the queen, and we are her prisoners." "but i hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. "she threatened to make tarts of me, you know." "don't worry," said the tin woodman. "it cannot matter greatly. if you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. a good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect." "very true," agreed the scarecrow. "oh, dear!" moaned jack; "what an unhappy lot is mine! why, dear father, did you not make me out of tin--or even out of straw--so that i would keep indefinitely." "shucks!" returned tip, indignantly. "you ought to be glad that i made you at all." then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come to an end, some time." "but i beg to remind you," broke in the woggle-bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging, round eyes, "that this terrible queen jinjur suggested making a goulash of me--me! the only highly magnified and thoroughly educated woggle-bug in the wide, wide world!" "i think it was a brilliant idea," remarked the scarecrow, approvingly. "don't you imagine he would make a better soup?" asked the tin woodman, turning toward his friend. "well, perhaps," acknowledged the scarecrow. the woggle-bug groaned. "i can see, in my mind's eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade, the tin woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of the saw-horse and jack pumpkinhead's body, and queen jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend the scarecrow!" this morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party, making them restless and anxious. "it can't happen for some time," said the tin woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep jinjur out of the palace until she manages to break down the doors." "and in the meantime i am liable to starve to death, and so is the woggle-bug," announced tip. "as for me," said the woggle-bug, "i think that i could live for some time on jack pumpkinhead. not that i prefer pumpkins for food; but i believe they are somewhat nutritious, and jack's head is large and plump." "how heartless!" exclaimed the tin woodman, greatly shocked. "are we cannibals, let me ask? or are we faithful friends?" "i see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace," said the scarecrow, with decision. "so let us end this mournful talk and try to discover a means to escape." at this suggestion they all gathered eagerly around the throne, wherein was seated the scarecrow, and as tip sat down upon a stool there fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor. "what is this?" asked nick chopper, picking up the box. "be careful!" cried the boy. "that's my powder of life. don't spill it, for it is nearly gone." "and what is the powder of life?" enquired the scarecrow, as tip replaced the box carefully in his pocket. "it's some magical stuff old mombi got from a crooked sorcerer," explained the boy. "she brought jack to life with it, and afterward i used it to bring the saw-horse to life. i guess it will make anything live that is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left." "then it is very precious," said the tin woodman. "indeed it is," agreed the scarecrow. "it may prove our best means of escape from our difficulties. i believe i will think for a few minutes; so i will thank you, friend tip, to get out your knife and rip this heavy crown from my forehead." tip soon cut the stitches that had fastened the crown to the scarecrow's head, and the former monarch of the emerald city removed it with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne. [illustration] "that is my last memento of royalty," said he; "and i'm glad to get rid of it. the former king of this city, who was named pastoria, lost the crown to the wonderful wizard, who passed it on to me. now the girl jinjur claims it, and i sincerely hope it will not give her a headache." "a kindly thought, which i greatly admire," said the tin woodman, nodding approvingly. "and now i will indulge in a quiet think," continued the scarecrow, lying back in the throne. the others remained as silent and still as possible, so as not to disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary brains of the scarecrow. and, after what seemed a very long time indeed to the anxious watchers, the thinker sat up, looked upon his friends with his most whimsical expression, and said: "my brains work beautifully today. i'm quite proud of them. now, listen! if we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace we shall surely be captured. and, as we can't escape through the ground, there is only one other thing to be done. we must escape through the air!" he paused to note the effect of these words; but all his hearers seemed puzzled and unconvinced. "the wonderful wizard escaped in a balloon," he continued. "we don't know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can fly through the air can carry us easily. so i suggest that my friend the tin woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of a machine, with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend tip can then bring the thing to life with his magical powder." "bravo!" cried nick chopper. "what splendid brains!" murmured jack. "really quite clever!" said the educated woggle-bug. [illustration] "i believe it can be done," declared tip; "that is, if the tin woodman is equal to making the thing." "i'll do my best," said nick, cheerily; "and, as a matter of fact, i do not often fail in what i attempt. but the thing will have to be built on the roof of the palace, so it can rise comfortably into the air." "to be sure," said the scarecrow. "then let us search through the palace," continued the tin woodman, "and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where i will begin my work." "first, however," said the pumpkinhead, "i beg you will release me from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. for in my present condition i am of no use to myself or to anyone else." so the tin woodman knocked a mahogany center-table to pieces with his axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved, on to the body of jack pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition. "it seems strange," said he, as he watched the tin woodman work, "that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me." "that proves you are unusual," returned the scarecrow; "and i am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. for the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed." "spoken like a philosopher!" cried the woggle-bug, as he assisted the tin woodman to set jack upon his feet. "how do you feel now?" asked tip, watching the pumpkinhead stump around to try his new leg. "as good as new," answered jack, joyfully, "and quite ready to assist you all to escape." "then let us get to work," said the scarecrow, in a business-like tone. so, glad to be doing anything that might lead to the end of their captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace in search of fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the astonishing flight of the gump ] when the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was found that a remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by the various members of the party. no one seemed to have a very clear idea of what was required, but all had brought something. the woggle-bug had taken from its position over the mantle-piece in the great hallway the head of a gump, which was adorned with wide-spreading antlers; and this, with great care and greater difficulty, the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. this gump resembled an elk's head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and there were whiskers upon its chin, like those of a billy-goat. why the woggle-bug selected this article he could not have explained, except that it had aroused his curiosity. tip, with the aid of the saw-horse, had brought a large, upholstered sofa to the roof. it was an old-fashioned piece of furniture, with high back and ends, and it was so heavy that even by resting the greatest weight upon the back of the saw-horse, the boy found himself out of breath when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof. the pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was the first thing he saw. the scarecrow arrived with a coil of clotheslines and ropes which he had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had become so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he and his burden tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if tip had not rescued him. the tin woodman appeared last. he also had been to the courtyard, where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge palm-tree that was the pride of all the inhabitants of the emerald city. "my dear nick!" exclaimed the scarecrow, seeing what his friend had done; "you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in the emerald city. if i remember rightly, the penalty for chopping leaves from the royal palm-tree is to be killed seven times and afterward imprisoned for life." [illustration: all brought something to the roof.] "it cannot be helped now," answered the tin woodman, throwing down the big leaves upon the roof. "but it may be one more reason why it is necessary for us to escape. and now let us see what you have found for me to work with." many were the doubtful looks cast upon the heap of miscellaneous material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the scarecrow shook his head and remarked: "well, if friend nick can manufacture, from this mess of rubbish, a thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety, then i will acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than i suspected." but the tin woodman seemed at first by no means sure of his powers, and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the chamois-leather did he resolve to undertake the task. "the first thing required for the machine," said he, "is a body big enough to carry the entire party. this sofa is the biggest thing we have, and might be used for a body. but, should the machine ever tip sideways, we would all slide off and fall to the ground." "why not use two sofas?" asked tip. "there's another one just like this down stairs." "that is a very sensible suggestion," exclaimed the tin woodman. "you must fetch the other sofa at once." so tip and the saw-horse managed, with much labor, to get the second sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats. "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "we can ride within this snug nest quite at our ease." the two sofas were now bound firmly together with ropes and clotheslines, and then nick chopper fastened the gump's head to one end. "that will show which is the front end of the thing," said he, greatly pleased with the idea. "and, really, if you examine it critically, the gump looks very well as a figure-head. these great palm-leaves, for which i have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings." "are they strong enough?" asked the boy. "they are as strong as anything we can get," answered the woodman; "and although they are not in proportion to the thing's body, we are not in a position to be very particular." so he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side. said the woggle-bug, with considerable admiration: "the thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life." "stop a moment!" exclaimed jack. "are you not going to use my broom?" "what for?" asked the scarecrow. "why, it can be fastened to the back end for a tail," answered the pumpkinhead. "surely you would not call the thing complete without a tail." "hm!" said the tin woodman; "i do not see the use of a tail. we are not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. all we ask of the thing is to carry us through the air." "perhaps, after the thing is brought to life, it can use a tail to steer with," suggested the scarecrow. "for if it flies through the air it will not be unlike a bird, and i've noticed that all birds have tails, which they use for a rudder while flying." "very well," answered nick, "the broom shall be used for a tail," and he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body. tip took the pepper-box from his pocket. "the thing looks very big," said he, anxiously; "and i am not sure there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. but i'll make it go as far as possible." "put most on the wings," said nick chopper; "for they must be made as strong as possible." "and don't forget the head!" exclaimed the woggle-bug. "or the tail!" added jack pumpkinhead. "do be quiet," said tip, nervously; "you must give me a chance to work the magic charm in the proper manner." very carefully he began sprinkling the thing with the precious powder. each of the four wings was first lightly covered with a layer; then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating. "the head! the head! don't, i beg of you, forget the head!" cried the woggle-bug, excitedly. "there's only a little of the powder left," announced tip, looking within the box. "and it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs of the sofas to life than the head." "not so," decided the scarecrow. "every thing must have a head to direct it; and since this creature is to fly, and not walk, it is really unimportant whether its legs are alive or not." so tip abided by this decision and sprinkled the gump's head with the remainder of the powder. "now," said he, "keep silence while i work the charm!" having heard old mombi pronounce the magic words, and having also succeeded in bringing the saw-horse to life, tip did not hesitate an instant in speaking the three cabalistic words, each accompanied by the peculiar gesture of the hands. it was a grave and impressive ceremony. as he finished the incantation the thing shuddered throughout its huge bulk, the gump gave the screeching cry that is familiar to those animals, and then the four wings began flopping furiously. [illustration] tip managed to grasp a chimney, else he would have been blown off the roof by the terrible breeze raised by the wings. the scarecrow, being light in weight, was caught up bodily and borne through the air until tip luckily seized him by one leg and held him fast. the woggle-bug lay flat upon the roof and so escaped harm, and the tin woodman, whose weight of tin anchored him firmly, threw both arms around jack pumpkinhead and managed to save him. the saw-horse toppled over upon his back and lay with his legs waving helplessly above him. and now, while all were struggling to recover themselves, the thing rose slowly from the roof and mounted into the air. "here! come back!" cried tip, in a frightened voice, as he clung to the chimney with one hand and the scarecrow with the other. "come back at once, i command you!" it was now that the wisdom of the scarecrow, in bringing the head of the thing to life instead of the legs, was proved beyond a doubt. for the gump, already high in the air, turned its head at tip's command and gradually circled around until it could view the roof of the palace. "come back!" shouted the boy, again. and the gump obeyed, slowly and gracefully waving its four wings in the air until the thing had settled once more upon the roof and become still. [illustration: "come back!"] [illustration: in the jackdaws' nest ] "this," said the gump, in a squeaky voice not at all proportioned to the size of its great body, "is the most novel experience i ever heard of. the last thing i remember distinctly is walking through the forest and hearing a loud noise. something probably killed me then, and it certainly ought to have been the end of me. yet here i am, alive again, with four monstrous wings and a body which i venture to say would make any respectable animal or fowl weep with shame to own. what does it all mean? am i a gump, or am i a juggernaut?" the creature, as it spoke, wiggled its chin whiskers in a very comical manner. "you're just a thing," answered tip, "with a gump's head on it. and we have made you and brought you to life so that you may carry us through the air wherever we wish to go." "very good!" said the thing. "as i am not a gump, i cannot have a gump's pride or independent spirit. so i may as well become your servant as anything else. my only satisfaction is that i do not seem to have a very strong constitution, and am not likely to live long in a state of slavery." "don't say that, i beg of you!" cried the tin woodman, whose excellent heart was strongly affected by this sad speech. "are you not feeling well today?" "oh, as for that," returned the gump, "it is my first day of existence; so i cannot judge whether i am feeling well or ill." and it waved its broom tail to and fro in a pensive manner. "come, come!" said the scarecrow, kindly; "do try to be more cheerful and take life as you find it. we shall be kind masters, and will strive to render your existence as pleasant as possible. are you willing to carry us through the air wherever we wish to go?" "certainly," answered the gump. "i greatly prefer to navigate the air. for should i travel on the earth and meet with one of my own species, my embarrassment would be something awful!" "i can appreciate that," said the tin woodman, sympathetically. "and yet," continued the thing, "when i carefully look you over, my masters, none of you seems to be constructed much more artistically than i am." "appearances are deceitful," said the woggle-bug, earnestly. "i am both highly magnified and thoroughly educated." "indeed!" murmured the gump, indifferently. "and my brains are considered remarkably rare specimens," added the scarecrow, proudly. "how strange!" remarked the gump. "although i am of tin," said the woodman, "i own a heart altogether the warmest and most admirable in the whole world." "i'm delighted to hear it," replied the gump, with a slight cough. "my smile," said jack pumpkinhead, "is worthy your best attention. it is always the same." "_semper idem_," explained the woggle-bug, pompously; and the gump turned to stare at him. "and i," declared the saw-horse, filling in an awkward pause, "am only remarkable because i can't help it." "i am proud, indeed, to meet with such exceptional masters," said the gump, in a careless tone. "if i could but secure so complete an introduction to myself, i would be more than satisfied." "that will come in time," remarked the scarecrow. "to 'know thyself' is considered quite an accomplishment, which it has taken us, who are your elders, months to perfect. but now," he added, turning to the others, "let us get aboard and start upon our journey." "where shall we go?" asked tip, as he clambered to a seat on the sofas and assisted the pumpkinhead to follow him. "in the south country rules a very delightful queen called glinda the good, who i am sure will gladly receive us," said the scarecrow, getting into the thing clumsily. "let us go to her and ask her advice." "that is cleverly thought of," declared nick chopper, giving the woggle-bug a boost and then toppling the saw-horse into the rear end of the cushioned seats. "i know glinda the good, and believe she will prove a friend indeed." "are we all ready?" asked the boy. "yes," announced the tin woodman, seating himself beside the scarecrow. "then," said tip, addressing the gump, "be kind enough to fly with us to the southward; and do not go higher than to escape the houses and trees, for it makes me dizzy to be up so far." "all right," answered the gump, briefly. it flopped its four huge wings and rose slowly into the air; and then, while our little band of adventurers clung to the backs and sides of the sofas for support, the gump turned toward the south and soared swiftly and majestically away. "the scenic effect, from this altitude, is marvelous," commented the educated woggle-bug, as they rode along. "never mind the scenery," said the scarecrow. "hold on tight, or you may get a tumble. the thing seems to rock badly." "it will be dark soon," said tip, observing that the sun was low on the horizon. "perhaps we should have waited until morning. i wonder if the gump can fly in the night." "i've been wondering that myself," returned the gump, quietly. "you see, this is a new experience to me. i used to have legs that carried me swiftly over the ground. but now my legs feel as if they were asleep." "they are," said tip. "we didn't bring 'em to life." "you're expected to fly," explained the scarecrow; "not to walk." "we can walk ourselves," said the woggle-bug. "i begin to understand what is required of me," remarked the gump; "so i will do my best to please you," and he flew on for a time in silence. presently jack pumpkinhead became uneasy. "i wonder if riding through the air is liable to spoil pumpkins," he said. "not unless you carelessly drop your head over the side," answered the woggle-bug. "in that event your head would no longer be a pumpkin, for it would become a squash." "have i not asked you to restrain these unfeeling jokes?" demanded tip, looking at the woggle-bug with a severe expression. "you have; and i've restrained a good many of them," replied the insect. "but there are opportunities for so many excellent puns in our language that, to an educated person like myself, the temptation to express them is almost irresistible." "people with more or less education discovered those puns centuries ago," said tip. "are you sure?" asked the woggle-bug, with a startled look. "of course i am," answered the boy. "an educated woggle-bug may be a new thing; but a woggle-bug education is as old as the hills, judging from the display you make of it." the insect seemed much impressed by this remark, and for a time maintained a meek silence. the scarecrow, in shifting his seat, saw upon the cushions the pepper-box which tip had cast aside, and began to examine it. "throw it overboard," said the boy; "it's quite empty now, and there's no use keeping it." "is it really empty?" asked the scarecrow, looking curiously into the box. "of course it is," answered tip. "i shook out every grain of the powder." "then the box has two bottoms," announced the scarecrow; "for the bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside." "let me see," said the tin woodman, taking the box from his friend. "yes," he declared, after looking it over, "the thing certainly has a false bottom. now, i wonder what that is for?" "can't you get it apart, and find out?" enquired tip, now quite interested in the mystery. "why, yes; the lower bottom unscrews," said the tin woodman. "my fingers are rather stiff; please see if you can open it." he handed the pepper-box to tip, who had no difficulty in unscrewing the bottom. and in the cavity below were three silver pills, with a carefully folded paper lying underneath them. this paper the boy proceeded to unfold, taking care not to spill the pills, and found several lines clearly written in red ink. "read it aloud," said the scarecrow; so tip read as follows: "dr. nikidik's celebrated wishing pills. "_directions for use_: swallow one pill; count seventeen by twos; then make a wish.--the wish will immediately be granted. "caution: keep in a dry and dark place." "why, this is a very valuable discovery!" cried the scarecrow. "it is, indeed," replied tip, gravely. "these pills may be of great use to us. i wonder if old mombi knew they were in the bottom of the pepper-box. i remember hearing her say that she got the powder of life from this same nikidik." "he must be a powerful sorcerer!" exclaimed the tin woodman; "and since the powder proved a success we ought to have confidence in the pills." "but how," asked the scarecrow, "can anyone count seventeen by twos? seventeen is an odd number. "that is true," replied tip, greatly disappointed. "no one can possibly count seventeen by twos." "then the pills are of no use to us," wailed the pumpkinhead; "and this fact overwhelms me with grief. for i had intended wishing that my head would never spoil." "nonsense!" said the scarecrow, sharply. "if we could use the pills at all we would make far better wishes than that." "i do not see how anything could be better," protested poor jack. "if you were liable to spoil at any time you could understand my anxiety." "for my part," said the tin woodman, "i sympathize with you in every respect. but since we cannot count seventeen by twos, sympathy is all you are liable to get." by this time it had become quite dark, and the voyagers found above them a cloudy sky, through which the rays of the moon could not penetrate. the gump flew steadily on, and for some reason the huge sofa-body rocked more and more dizzily every hour. the woggle-bug declared he was sea-sick; and tip was also pale and somewhat distressed. but the others clung to the backs of the sofas and did not seem to mind the motion as long as they were not tipped out. darker and darker grew the night, and on and on sped the gump through the black heavens. the travelers could not even see one another, and an oppressive silence settled down upon them. after a long time tip, who had been thinking deeply, spoke. "how are we to know when we come to the palace of glinda the good?" he asked. "it's a long way to glinda's palace," answered the woodman; "i've traveled it." "but how are we to know how fast the gump is flying?" persisted the boy. "we cannot see a single thing down on the earth, and before morning we may be far beyond the place we want to reach." "that is all true enough," the scarecrow replied, a little uneasily. "but i do not see how we can stop just now; for we might alight in a river, or on the top of a steeple; and that would be a great disaster." so they permitted the gump to fly on, with regular flops of its great wings, and waited patiently for morning. then tip's fears were proven to be well founded; for with the first streaks of gray dawn they looked over the sides of the sofas and discovered rolling plains dotted with queer villages, where the houses, instead of being dome-shaped--as they all are in the land of oz--had slanting roofs that rose to a peak in the center. odd looking animals were also moving about upon the open plains, and the country was unfamiliar to both the tin woodman and the scarecrow, who had formerly visited glinda the good's domain and knew it well. "we are lost!" said the scarecrow, dolefully. "the gump must have carried us entirely out of the land of oz and over the sandy deserts and into the terrible outside world that dorothy told us about." "we must get back," exclaimed the tin woodman, earnestly; "we must get back as soon as possible!" "turn around!" cried tip to the gump; "turn as quickly as you can!" "if i do i shall upset," answered the gump. "i'm not at all used to flying, and the best plan would be for me to alight in some place, and then i can turn around and take a fresh start." just then, however, there seemed to be no stopping-place that would answer their purpose. they flew over a village so big that the woggle-bug declared it was a city; and then they came to a range of high mountains with many deep gorges and steep cliffs showing plainly. "now is our chance to stop," said the boy, finding they were very close to the mountain tops. then he turned to the gump and commanded: "stop at the first level place you see!" "very well," answered the gump, and settled down upon a table of rock that stood between two cliffs. but not being experienced in such matters, the gump did not judge his speed correctly; and instead of coming to a stop upon the flat rock he missed it by half the width of his body, breaking off both his right wings against the sharp edge of the rock and then tumbling over and over down the cliff. our friends held on to the sofas as long as they could, but when the gump caught on a projecting rock the thing stopped suddenly--bottom side up--and all were immediately dumped out. by good fortune they fell only a few feet; for underneath them was a monster nest, built by a colony of jackdaws in a hollow ledge of rock; so none of them--not even the pumpkinhead--was injured by the fall. for jack found his precious head resting on the soft breast of the scarecrow, which made an excellent cushion; and tip fell on a mass of leaves and papers, which saved him from injury. the woggle-bug had bumped his round head against the saw-horse, but without causing him more than a moment's inconvenience. [illustration: all were immediately dumped out.] the tin woodman was at first much alarmed; but finding he had escaped without even a scratch upon his beautiful nickel-plate he at once regained his accustomed cheerfulness and turned to address his comrades. "our journey has ended rather suddenly," said he, "and we cannot justly blame our friend the gump for our accident, because he did the best he could under the circumstances. but how we are ever to escape from this nest i must leave to someone with better brains than i possess." here he gazed at the scarecrow; who crawled to the edge of the nest and looked over. below them was a sheer precipice several hundred feet in depth. above them was a smooth cliff unbroken save by the point of rock where the wrecked body of the gump still hung suspended from the end of one of the sofas. there really seemed to be no means of escape, and as they realized their helpless plight the little band of adventurers gave way to their bewilderment. "this is a worse prison than the palace," sadly remarked the woggle-bug. "i wish we had stayed there," moaned jack. "i'm afraid the mountain air isn't good for pumpkins." "it won't be when the jackdaws come back," growled the saw-horse, which lay waving its legs in a vain endeavor to get upon its feet again. "jackdaws are especially fond of pumpkins." "do you think the birds will come here?" asked jack, much distressed. "of course they will," said tip; "for this is their nest. and there must be hundreds of them," he continued, "for see what a lot of things they have brought here!" indeed, the nest was half filled with a most curious collection of small articles for which the birds could have no use, but which the thieving jackdaws had stolen during many years from the homes of men. and as the nest was safely hidden where no human being could reach it, this lost property would never be recovered. the woggle-bug, searching among the rubbish--for the jackdaws stole useless things as well as valuable ones--turned up with his foot a beautiful diamond necklace. this was so greatly admired by the tin woodman that the woggle-bug presented it to him with a graceful speech, after which the woodman hung it around his neck with much pride, rejoicing exceedingly when the big diamonds glittered in the sun's rays. [illustration: turned up a beautiful diamond necklace.] but now they heard a great jabbering and flopping of wings, and as the sound grew nearer to them tip exclaimed: "the jackdaws are coming! and if they find us here they will surely kill us in their anger." "i was afraid of this!" moaned the pumpkinhead. "my time has come!" "and mine, also!" said the woggle-bug; "for jackdaws are the greatest enemies of my race." the others were not at all afraid; but the scarecrow at once decided to save those of the party who were liable to be injured by the angry birds. so he commanded tip to take off jack's head and lie down with it in the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered the woggle-bug to lie beside tip. nick chopper, who knew from past experience just what to do, then took the scarecrow to pieces--(all except his head)--and scattered the straw over tip and the woggle-bug, completely covering their bodies. hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of jackdaws reached them. perceiving the intruders in their nest the birds flew down upon them with screams of rage. [illustration] [illustration: dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills ] the tin woodman was usually a peaceful man, but when occasion required he could fight as fiercely as a roman gladiator. so, when the jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and their sharp beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant plating, the woodman picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head. but although many were beaten off in this way, the birds were so numerous and so brave that they continued the attack as furiously as before. some of them pecked at the eyes of the gump, which hung over the nest in a helpless condition; but the gump's eyes were of glass and could not be injured. others of the jackdaws rushed at the saw-horse; but that animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the woodman's axe. finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the scarecrow's straw, which lay at the center of the nest, covering tip and the woggle-bug and jack's pumpkin head, and began tearing it away and flying off with it, only to let it drop, straw by straw into the great gulf beneath. the scarecrow's head, noting with dismay this wanton destruction of his interior, cried to the tin woodman to save him; and that good friend responded with renewed energy. his axe fairly flashed among the jackdaws, and fortunately the gump began wildly waving the two wings remaining on the left side of its body. the flutter of these great wings filled the jackdaws with terror, and when the gump by its exertions freed itself from the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping into the nest, the alarm of the birds knew no bounds and they fled screaming over the mountains. when the last foe had disappeared, tip crawled from under the sofas and assisted the woggle-bug to follow him. "we are saved!" shouted the boy, delightedly. "we are, indeed!" responded the educated insect, fairly hugging the stiff head of the gump in his joy; "and we owe it all to the flopping of the thing and the good axe of the woodman!" "if i am saved, get me out of here!" called jack, whose head was still beneath the sofas; and tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon its neck again. he also set the saw-horse upright, and said to it: "we owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made." "i really think we have escaped very nicely," remarked the tin woodman, in a tone of pride. "not so!" exclaimed a hollow voice. at this they all turned in surprise to look at the scarecrow's head, which lay at the back of the nest. [illustration] "i am completely ruined!" declared the scarecrow, as he noted their astonishment. "for where is the straw that stuffs my body?" the awful question startled them all. they gazed around the nest with horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. the jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest. "my poor, poor friend!" said the tin woodman, taking up the scarecrow's head and caressing it tenderly; "whoever could imagine you would come to this untimely end?" "i did it to save my friends," returned the head; "and i am glad that i perished in so noble and unselfish a manner." "but why are you all so despondent?" inquired the woggle-bug. "the scarecrow's clothing is still safe." "yes," answered the tin woodman; "but our friend's clothes are useless without stuffing." "why not stuff him with money?" asked tip. "money!" they all cried, in an amazed chorus. "to be sure," said the boy. "in the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills--and two-dollar bills--and five-dollar bills--and tens, and twenties, and fifties. there are enough of them to stuff a dozen scarecrows. why not use the money?" the tin woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, which the mischievous jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited. [illustration] there was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and tip's suggestion was, with the scarecrow's consent, quickly acted upon. they selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. the scarecrow's left leg boot were stuffed with five-dollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and one-thousands that he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort. "you are now," said the woggle-bug, impressively, when the task had been completed, "the most valuable member of our party; and as you are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent." "thank you," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "i feel like a new man; and although at first glance i might be mistaken for a safety deposit vault, i beg you to remember that my brains are still composed of the same old material. and these are the possessions that have always made me a person to be depended upon in an emergency." "well, the emergency is here," observed tip; "and unless your brains help us out of it we shall be compelled to pass the remainder of our lives in this nest." "how about these wishing pills?" enquired the scarecrow, taking the box from his jacket pocket. "can't we use them to escape?" "not unless we can count seventeen by twos," answered the tin woodman. "but our friend the woggle-bug claims to be highly educated, so he ought easily to figure out how that can be done." "it isn't a question of education," returned the insect; "it's merely a question of mathematics. i've seen the professor work lots of sums on the black-board, and he claimed anything could be done with x's and y's and a's, and such things, by mixing them up with plenty of plusses and minuses and equals, and so forth. but he never said anything, so far as i can remember, about counting up to the odd number of seventeen by the even numbers of twos." "stop! stop!" cried the pumpkinhead. "you're making my head ache." "and mine," added the scarecrow. "your mathematics seem to me very like a bottle of mixed pickles--the more you fish for what you want the less chance you have of getting it. i am certain that if the thing can be accomplished at all, it is in a very simple manner." "yes," said tip; "old mombi couldn't use x's and minuses, for she never went to school." "why not start counting at a half of one?" asked the saw-horse, abruptly. "then anyone can count up to seventeen by twos very easily." they looked at each other in surprise, for the saw-horse was considered the most stupid of the entire party. "you make me quite ashamed of myself," said the scarecrow, bowing low to the saw-horse. "nevertheless, the creature is right," declared the woggle-bug; "for twice one-half is one, and if you get to one it is easy to count from one up to seventeen by twos." "i wonder i didn't think of that myself," said the pumpkinhead. "i don't," returned the scarecrow. "you're no wiser than the rest of us, are you? but let us make a wish at once. who will swallow the first pill?" "suppose you do it," suggested tip. "i can't," said the scarecrow. "why not? you've a mouth, haven't you?" asked the boy. "yes; but my mouth is painted on, and there's no swallow connected with it," answered the scarecrow. "in fact," he continued, looking from one to another critically, "i believe the boy and the woggle-bug are the only ones in our party that are able to swallow." observing the truth of this remark, tip said: "then i will undertake to make the first wish. give me one of the silver pills." this the scarecrow tried to do; but his padded gloves were too clumsy to clutch so small an object, and he held the box toward the boy while tip selected one of the pills and swallowed it. "count!" cried the scarecrow. "one-half, one, three, five, seven, nine, eleven, thirteen, fifteen, seventeen!" counted tip. "now wish!" said the tin woodman anxiously. but just then the boy began to suffer such fearful pains that he became alarmed. "the pill has poisoned me!" he gasped; "o--h! o-o-o-o-o! ouch! murder! fire! o-o-h!" and here he rolled upon the bottom of the nest in such contortions that he frightened them all. "what can we do for you? speak, i beg!" entreated the tin woodman, tears of sympathy running down his nickel cheeks. "i--i don't know!" answered tip. "o--h! i wish i'd never swallowed that pill!" then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again and found the scarecrow looking with amazement at the end of the pepper-box. "what's happened?" asked the boy, a little ashamed of his recent exhibition. "why, the three pills are in the box again!" said the scarecrow. [illustration] "of course they are," the woggle-bug declared. "didn't tip wish that he'd never swallowed one of them? well, the wish came true, and he _didn't_ swallow one of them. so of course they are all three in the box." "that may be; but the pill gave me a dreadful pain, just the same," said the boy. "impossible!" declared the woggle-bug. "if you have never swallowed it, the pill can not have given you a pain. and as your wish, being granted, proves you did not swallow the pill, it is also plain that you suffered no pain." "then it was a splendid imitation of a pain," retorted tip, angrily. "suppose you try the next pill yourself. we've wasted one wish already." "oh, no, we haven't!" protested the scarecrow. "here are still three pills in the box, and each pill is good for a wish." "now you're making _my_ head ache," said tip. "i can't understand the thing at all. but i won't take another pill, i promise you!" and with this remark he retired sulkily to the back of the nest. "well," said the woggle-bug, "it remains for me to save us in my most highly magnified and thoroughly educated manner; for i seem to be the only one able and willing to make a wish. let me have one of the pills." he swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood admiring his courage while the insect counted seventeen by twos in the same way that tip had done. and for some reason--perhaps because woggle-bugs have stronger stomachs than boys--the silver pellet caused it no pain whatever. "i wish the gump's broken wings mended, and as good as new!" said the woggle-bug, in a slow, impressive voice. all turned to look at the thing, and so quickly had the wish been granted that the gump lay before them in perfect repair, and as well able to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to life on the roof of the palace. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the scarecrow appeals to glinda the good ] "hooray!" shouted the scarecrow, gaily. "we can now leave this miserable jackdaws' nest whenever we please." "but it is nearly dark," said the tin woodman; "and unless we wait until morning to make our flight we may get into more trouble. i don't like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen." so it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused themselves in the twilight by searching the jackdaws' nest for treasures. the woggle-bug found two handsome bracelets of wrought gold, which fitted his slender arms very well. the scarecrow took a fancy for rings, of which there were many in the nest. before long he had fitted a ring to each finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with that display he added one more to each thumb. as he carefully chose those rings set with sparkling stones, such as rubies, amethysts and sapphires, the scarecrow's hands now presented a most brilliant appearance. "this nest would be a picnic for queen jinjur," said he, musingly; "for as nearly as i can make out she and her girls conquered me merely to rob my city of its emeralds." the tin woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused to accept any additional decorations; but tip secured a fine gold watch, which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket with much pride. he also pinned several jeweled brooches to jack pumpkinhead's red waistcoat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a fine chain, to the neck of the saw-horse. "it's very pretty," said the creature, regarding the lorgnette approvingly; "but what is it for?" none of them could answer that question, however; so the saw-horse decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it. that none of the party might be slighted, they ended by placing several large seal rings upon the points of the gump's antlers, although that odd personage seemed by no means gratified by the attention. darkness soon fell upon them, and tip and the woggle-bug went to sleep while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day. next morning they had cause to congratulate themselves upon the useful condition of the gump; for with daylight a great flock of jackdaws approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest. but our adventurers did not wait for the assault. they tumbled into the cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and tip gave the word to the gump to start. at once it rose into the air, the great wings flopping strongly and with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the nest that the chattering jackdaws took possession without any attempt at pursuit. the thing flew due north, going in the same direction from whence it had come. at least, that was the scarecrow's opinion, and the others agreed that the scarecrow was the best judge of direction. after passing over several cities and villages the gump carried them high above a broad plain where houses became more and more scattered until they disappeared altogether. next came the wide, sandy desert separating the rest of the world from the land of oz, and before noon they saw the dome-shaped houses that proved they were once more within the borders of their native land. "but the houses and fences are blue," said the tin woodman, "and that indicates we are in the land of the munchkins, and therefore a long distance from glinda the good." "what shall we do?" asked the boy, turning to their guide. "i don't know," replied the scarecrow, frankly. "if we were at the emerald city we could then move directly southward, and so reach our destination. but we dare not go to the emerald city, and the gump is probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of its wings." "then the woggle-bug must swallow another pill," said tip, decidedly, "and wish us headed in the right direction." "very well," returned the highly magnified one; "i'm willing." but when the scarecrow searched in his pocket for the pepper-box containing the two silver wishing pills, it was not to be found. filled with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the thing for the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely. and still the gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where. "i must have left the pepper-box in the jackdaws' nest," said the scarecrow, at length. "it is a great misfortune," the tin woodman declared. "but we are no worse off than before we discovered the wishing pills." "we are better off," replied tip; "for the one pill we used has enabled us to escape from that horrible nest." "yet the loss of the other two is serious, and i deserve a good scolding for my carelessness," the scarecrow rejoined, penitently. "for in such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen any moment, and even now we may be approaching a new danger." no one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued. the gump flew steadily on. suddenly tip uttered an exclamation of surprise. "we must have reached the south country," he cried, "for below us everything is red!" [illustration] immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look--all except jack, who was too careful of his pumpkin head to risk its slipping off his neck. sure enough; the red houses and fences and trees indicated they were within the domain of glinda the good; and presently, as they glided rapidly on, the tin woodman recognized the roads and buildings they passed, and altered slightly the flight of the gump so that they might reach the palace of the celebrated sorceress. "good!" cried the scarecrow, delightedly. "we do not need the lost wishing pills now, for we have arrived at our destination." gradually the thing sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length it came to rest within the beautiful gardens of glinda, settling upon a velvety green lawn close by a fountain which sent sprays of flashing gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell with a soft, tinkling sound into the carved marble basin placed to receive them. everything was very gorgeous in glinda's gardens, and while our voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a company of soldiers silently appeared and surrounded them. but these soldiers of the great sorceress were entirely different from those of jinjur's army of revolt, although they were likewise girls. for glinda's soldiers wore neat uniforms and bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and precision that proved them well trained in the arts of war. the captain commanding this troop--which was glinda's private body guard--recognized the scarecrow and the tin woodman at once, and greeted them with respectful salutations. "good day!" said the scarecrow, gallantly removing his hat, while the woodman gave a soldierly salute; "we have come to request an audience with your fair ruler." "glinda is now within her palace, awaiting you," returned the captain; "for she saw you coming long before you arrived." "that is strange!" said tip, wondering. "not at all," answered the scarecrow; "for glinda the good is a mighty sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the land of oz escapes her notice. i suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves." "then what was the use of our coming?" asked jack, stupidly. [illustration] "to prove you are a pumpkinhead!" retorted the scarecrow. "but, if the sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting." so they all clambered out of the sofas and followed the captain toward the palace--even the saw-horse taking his place in the queer procession. upon her throne of finely wrought gold sat glinda, and she could scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed before her. both the scarecrow and the tin woodman she knew and liked; but the awkward pumpkinhead and highly magnified woggle-bug were creatures she had never seen before, and they seemed even more curious than the others. as for the saw-horse, he looked to be nothing more than an animated chunk of wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his head bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which glinda frankly joined. "i beg to announce to your glorious highness," began the scarecrow, in a solemn voice, "that my emerald city has been overrun by a crowd of impudent girls with knitting-needles, who have enslaved all the men, robbed the streets and public buildings of all their emerald jewels, and usurped my throne." "i know it," said glinda. "they also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends and allies you see before you," continued the scarecrow; "and had we not managed to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended." "i know it," repeated glinda. "therefore i have come to beg your assistance," resumed the scarecrow, "for i believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and oppressed." "that is true," replied the sorceress, slowly. "but the emerald city is now ruled by general jinjur, who has caused herself to be proclaimed queen. what right have i to oppose her?" "why, she stole the throne from me," said the scarecrow. "and how came you to possess the throne?" asked glinda. "i got it from the wizard of oz, and by the choice of the people," returned the scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning. "and where did the wizard get it?" she continued, gravely. "i am told he took it from pastoria, the former king," said the scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the sorceress. "then," declared glinda, "the throne of the emerald city belongs neither to you nor to jinjur, but to this pastoria from whom the wizard usurped it." "that is true," acknowledged the scarecrow, humbly; "but pastoria is now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place." "pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the emerald city. did you know that?" questioned the sorceress. "no," replied the scarecrow. "but if the girl still lives i will not stand in her way. it will satisfy me as well to have jinjur turned out, as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. in fact, it isn't much fun to be king, especially if one has good brains. i have known for some time that i am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. but where is this girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?" "her name is ozma," answered glinda. "but where she is i have tried in vain to discover. for the wizard of oz, when he stole the throne from ozma's father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a magical trick with which i am not familiar he also managed to prevent her being discovered--even by so experienced a sorceress as myself." "that is strange," interrupted the woggle-bug, pompously. "i have been informed that the wonderful wizard of oz was nothing more than a humbug!" "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow, much provoked by this speech. "didn't he give me a wonderful set of brains?" "there's no humbug about my heart," announced the tin woodman, glaring indignantly at the woggle-bug. "perhaps i was misinformed," stammered the insect, shrinking back; "i never knew the wizard personally." "well, we did," retorted the scarecrow, "and he was a very great wizard, i assure you. it is true he was guilty of some slight impostures, but unless he was a great wizard how--let me ask--could he have hidden this girl ozma so securely that no one can find her?" "i--i give it up!" replied the woggle-bug, meekly. "that is the most sensible speech you've made," said the tin woodman. "i must really make another effort to discover where this girl is hidden," resumed the sorceress, thoughtfully. "i have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the wizard while he was in our land of oz--or, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. this book i will read carefully tonight, and try to single out the acts that may guide us in discovering the lost ozma. in the meantime, pray amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your own. i will grant you another audience tomorrow." with this gracious speech glinda dismissed the adventurers, and they wandered away through the beautiful gardens, where they passed several hours enjoying all the delightful things with which the queen of the southland had surrounded her royal palace. on the following morning they again appeared before glinda, who said to them: "i have searched carefully through the records of the wizard's actions, and among them i can find but three that appear to have been suspicious. he ate beans with a knife, made three secret visits to old mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot." "ah! that last is certainly suspicious!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead. "not necessarily," said the scarecrow; "he may have had corns. now, it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious." "perhaps it is a polite custom in omaha, from which great country the wizard originally came," suggested the tin woodman. "it may be," admitted the scarecrow. "but why," asked glinda, "did he make three secret visits to old mombi?" "ah! why, indeed!" echoed the woggle-bug, impressively. "we know that the wizard taught the old woman many of his tricks of magic," continued glinda; "and this he would not have done had she not assisted him in some way. so we may suspect with good reason that mombi aided him to hide the girl ozma, who was the real heir to the throne of the emerald city, and a constant danger to the usurper. for, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their queen and restore her to her rightful position." "an able argument!" cried the scarecrow. "i have no doubt that mombi was mixed up in this wicked business. but how does that knowledge help us?" "we must find mombi," replied glinda, "and force her to tell where the girl is hidden." "mombi is now with queen jinjur, in the emerald city," said tip. "it was she who threw so many obstacles in our pathway, and made jinjur threaten to destroy my friends and give me back into the old witch's power." "then," decided glinda, "i will march with my army to the emerald city, and take mombi prisoner. after that we can, perhaps, force her to tell the truth about ozma." "she is a terrible old woman!" remarked tip, with a shudder at the thought of mombi's black kettle; "and obstinate, too." "i am quite obstinate myself," returned the sorceress, with a sweet smile; "so i do not fear mombi in the least. today i will make all necessary preparations, and we will march upon the emerald city at daybreak tomorrow." [illustration: "she is a terrible old woman."] [illustration: jinjur] [illustration: the tin-woodman plucks a rose ] [illustration] the army of glinda the good looked very grand and imposing when it assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. the uniforms of the girl soldiers were pretty and of gay colors, and their silver-tipped spears were bright and glistening, the long shafts being inlaid with mother-of-pearl. all the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields edged with peacock-feathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by any possibility defeat such a brilliant army. the sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like the body of a coach, having doors and windows with silken curtains; but instead of wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long, horizontal bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants. the scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the gump, in order to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as soon as glinda had started and her soldiers had marched away to the inspiring strains of music played by the royal band, our friends climbed into the sofas and followed. the gump flew along slowly at a point directly over the palanquin in which rode the sorceress. [illustration] "be careful," said the tin woodman to the scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. "you might fall." "it wouldn't matter," remarked the educated woggle-bug; "he can't get broke so long as he is stuffed with money." "didn't i ask you--" began tip, in a reproachful voice. "you did!" said the woggle-bug, promptly. "and i beg your pardon. i will really try to restrain myself." "you'd better," declared the boy. "that is, if you wish to travel in our company." "ah! i couldn't bear to part with you now," murmured the insect, feelingly; so tip let the subject drop. the army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the emerald city. by the dim light of the new moon, however, glinda's forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon the greensward. the tent of the sorceress was larger than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners flying above it. a tent was also pitched for the scarecrow's party; and when these preparations had been made, with military precision and quickness, the army retired to rest. great was the amazement of queen jinjur next morning when her soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. she at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving in every direction and the great white tent of glinda standing directly before the gates. [illustration] "we are surely lost!" cried jinjur, in despair; "for how can our knitting-needles avail against the long spears and terrible swords of our foes?" "the best thing we can do," said one of the girls, "is to surrender as quickly as possible, before we get hurt." "not so," returned jinjur, more bravely. "the enemy is still outside the walls, so we must try to gain time by engaging them in parley. go you with a flag of truce to glinda and ask her why she has dared to invade my dominions, and what are her demands." so the girl passed through the gates, bearing a white flag to show she was on a mission of peace, and came to glinda's tent. "tell your queen," said the sorceress to the girl, "that she must deliver up to me old mombi, to be my prisoner. if this is done i will not molest her farther." now when this message was delivered to the queen it filled her with dismay, for mombi was her chief counsellor, and jinjur was terribly afraid of the old hag. but she sent for mombi, and told her what glinda had said. "i see trouble ahead for all of us," muttered the old witch, after glancing into a magic mirror she carried in her pocket. "but we may even yet escape by deceiving this sorceress, clever as she thinks herself." "don't you think it will be safer for me to deliver you into her hands?" asked jinjur, nervously. "if you do, it will cost you the throne of the emerald city!" answered the witch, positively. "but, if you will let me have my own way, i can save us both very easily." "then do as you please," replied jinjur, "for it is so aristocratic to be a queen that i do not wish to be obliged to return home again, to make beds and wash dishes for my mother." so mombi called jellia jamb to her, and performed a certain magical rite with which she was familiar. as a result of the enchantment jellia took on the form and features of mombi, while the old witch grew to resemble the girl so closely that it seemed impossible anyone could guess the deception. "now," said old mombi to the queen, "let your soldiers deliver up this girl to glinda. she will think she has the real mombi in her power, and so will return immediately to her own country in the south." [illustration] therefore jellia, hobbling along like an aged woman, was led from the city gates and taken before glinda. "here is the person you demanded," said one of the guards, "and our queen now begs you will go away, as you promised, and leave us in peace." "that i will surely do," replied glinda, much pleased; "if this is really the person she seems to be." "it is certainly old mombi," said the guard, who believed she was speaking the truth; and then jinjur's soldiers returned within the city's gates. the sorceress quickly summoned the scarecrow and his friends to her tent, and began to question the supposed mombi about the lost girl ozma. but jellia knew nothing at all of this affair, and presently she grew so nervous under the questioning that she gave way and began to weep, to glinda's great astonishment. "here is some foolish trickery!" said the sorceress, her eyes flashing with anger. "this is not mombi at all, but some other person who has been made to resemble her! tell me," she demanded, turning to the trembling girl, "what is your name?" this jellia dared not tell, having been threatened with death by the witch if she confessed the fraud. but glinda, sweet and fair though she was, understood magic better than any other person in the land of oz. so, by uttering a few potent words and making a peculiar gesture, she quickly transformed the girl into her proper shape, while at the same time old mombi, far away in jinjur's palace, suddenly resumed her own crooked form and evil features. "why, it's jellia jamb!" cried the scarecrow, recognizing in the girl one of his old friends. "it's our interpreter!" said the pumpkinhead, smiling pleasantly. then jellia was forced to tell of the trick mombi had played, and she also begged glinda's protection, which the sorceress readily granted. but glinda was now really angry, and sent word to jinjur that the fraud was discovered and she must deliver up the real mombi or suffer terrible consequences. jinjur was prepared for this message, for the witch well understood, when her natural form was thrust upon her, that glinda had discovered her trickery. but the wicked old creature had already thought up a new deception, and had made jinjur promise to carry it out. so the queen said to glinda's messenger: [illustration] "tell your mistress that i cannot find mombi anywhere; but that glinda is welcome to enter the city and search herself for the old woman. she may also bring her friends with her, if she likes; but if she does not find mombi by sundown, the sorceress must promise to go away peaceably and bother us no more." glinda agreed to these terms, well knowing that mombi was somewhere within the city walls. so jinjur caused the gates to be thrown open, and glinda marched in at the head of a company of soldiers, followed by the scarecrow and the tin woodman, while jack pumpkinhead rode astride the saw-horse, and the educated, highly magnified woggle-bug sauntered behind in a dignified manner. tip walked by the side of the sorceress, for glinda had conceived a great liking for the boy. of course old mombi had no intention of being found by glinda; so, while her enemies were marching up the street, the witch transformed herself into a red rose growing upon a bush in the garden of the palace. it was a clever idea, and a trick glinda did not suspect; so several precious hours were spent in a vain search for mombi. as sundown approached the sorceress realized she had been defeated by the superior cunning of the aged witch; so she gave the command to her people to march out of the city and back to their tents. the scarecrow and his comrades happened to be searching in the garden of the palace just then, and they turned with disappointment to obey glinda's command. but before they left the garden the tin woodman, who was fond of flowers, chanced to espy a big red rose growing upon a bush; so he plucked the flower and fastened it securely in the tin button-hole of his tin bosom. as he did this he fancied he heard a low moan proceed from the rose; but he paid no attention to the sound, and mombi was thus carried out of the city and into glinda's camp without anyone having a suspicion that they had succeeded in their quest. [illustration] [illustration: the transformation of old mombi ] the witch was at first frightened at finding herself captured by the enemy; but soon she decided that she was exactly as safe in the tin woodman's button-hole as growing upon the bush. for no one knew the rose and mombi to be one, and now that she was without the gates of the city her chances of escaping altogether from glinda were much improved. "but there is no hurry," thought mombi. "i will wait awhile and enjoy the humiliation of this sorceress when she finds i have outwitted her." so throughout the night the rose lay quietly on the woodman's bosom, and in the morning, when glinda summoned our friends to a consultation, nick chopper carried his pretty flower with him to the white silk tent. [illustration] "for some reason," said glinda, "we have failed to find this cunning old mombi; so i fear our expedition will prove a failure. and for that i am sorry, because without our assistance little ozma will never be rescued and restored to her rightful position as queen of the emerald city." "do not let us give up so easily," said the pumpkinhead. "let us do something else." "something else must really be done," replied glinda, with a smile; "yet i cannot understand how i have been defeated so easily by an old witch who knows far less of magic than i do myself." "while we are on the ground i believe it would be wise for us to conquer the emerald city for princess ozma, and find the girl afterward," said the scarecrow. "and while the girl remains hidden i will gladly rule in her place, for i understand the business of ruling much better than jinjur does." "but i have promised not to molest jinjur," objected glinda. "suppose you all return with me to my kingdom--or empire, rather," said the tin woodman, politely including the entire party in a royal wave of his arm. "it will give me great pleasure to entertain you in my castle, where there is room enough and to spare. and if any of you wish to be nickel-plated, my valet will do it free of all expense." while the woodman was speaking glinda's eyes had been noting the rose in his button-hole, and now she imagined she saw the big red leaves of the flower tremble slightly. this quickly aroused her suspicions, and in a moment more the sorceress had decided that the seeming rose was nothing else than a transformation of old mombi. at the same instant mombi knew she was discovered and must quickly plan an escape, and as transformations were easy to her she immediately took the form of a shadow and glided along the wall of the tent toward the entrance, thinking thus to disappear. but glinda had not only equal cunning, but far more experience than the witch. so the sorceress reached the opening of the tent before the shadow, and with a wave of her hand closed the entrance so securely that mombi could not find a crack big enough to creep through. the scarecrow and his friends were greatly surprised at glinda's actions; for none of them had noted the shadow. but the sorceress said to them: "remain perfectly quiet, all of you! for the old witch is even now with us in this tent, and i hope to capture her." these words so alarmed mombi that she quickly transformed herself from a shadow to a black ant, in which shape she crawled along the ground, seeking a crack or crevice in which to hide her tiny body. fortunately, the ground where the tent had been pitched, being just before the city gates, was hard and smooth; and while the ant still crawled about, glinda discovered it and ran quickly forward to effect its capture. but, just as her hand was descending, the witch, now fairly frantic with fear, made her last transformation, and in the form of a huge griffin sprang through the wall of the tent--tearing the silk asunder in her rush--and in a moment had darted away with the speed of a whirlwind. glinda did not hesitate to follow. she sprang upon the back of the saw-horse and cried: "now you shall prove that you have a right to be alive! run--run--run!" the saw-horse ran. like a flash he followed the griffin, his wooden legs moving so fast that they twinkled like the rays of a star. before our friends could recover from their surprise both the griffin and the saw-horse had dashed out of sight. "come! let us follow!" cried the scarecrow. they ran to the place where the gump was lying and quickly tumbled aboard. "fly!" commanded tip, eagerly. "where to?" asked the gump, in its calm voice. "i don't know," returned tip, who was very nervous at the delay; "but if you will mount into the air i think we can discover which way glinda has gone." [illustration] "very well," returned the gump, quietly; and it spread its great wings and mounted high into the air. far away, across the meadows, they could now see two tiny specks, speeding one after the other; and they knew these specks must be the griffin and the saw-horse. so tip called the gump's attention to them and bade the creature try to overtake the witch and the sorceress. but, swift as was the gump's flight, the pursued and pursuer moved more swiftly yet, and within a few moments were blotted out against the dim horizon. "let us continue to follow them, nevertheless," said the scarecrow; "for the land of oz is of small extent, and sooner or later they must both come to a halt." old mombi had thought herself very wise to choose the form of a griffin, for its legs were exceedingly fleet and its strength more enduring than that of other animals. but she had not reckoned on the untiring energy of the saw-horse, whose wooden limbs could run for days without slacking their speed. therefore, after an hour's hard running, the griffin's breath began to fail, and it panted and gasped painfully, and moved more slowly than before. then it reached the edge of the desert and began racing across the deep sands. but its tired feet sank far into the sand, and in a few minutes the griffin fell forward, completely exhausted, and lay still upon the desert waste. glinda came up a moment later, riding the still vigorous saw-horse; and having unwound a slender golden thread from her girdle the sorceress threw it over the head of the panting and helpless griffin, and so destroyed the magical power of mombi's transformation. for the animal, with one fierce shudder, disappeared from view, while in its place was discovered the form of the old witch, glaring savagely at the serene and beautiful face of the sorceress. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: princess ozma of oz ] "you are my prisoner, and it is useless for you to struggle any longer," said glinda, in her soft, sweet voice. "lie still a moment, and rest yourself, and then i will carry you back to my tent." "why do you seek me?" asked mombi, still scarce able to speak plainly for lack of breath. "what have i done to you, to be so persecuted?" "you have done nothing to me," answered the gentle sorceress; "but i suspect you have been guilty of several wicked actions; and if i find it is true that you have so abused your knowledge of magic, i intend to punish you severely." "i defy you!" croaked the old hag. "you dare not harm me!" just then the gump flew up to them and alighted upon the desert sands beside glinda. our friends were delighted to find that mombi had finally been captured, and after a hurried consultation it was decided they should all return to the camp in the gump. so the saw-horse was tossed aboard, and then glinda, still holding an end of the golden thread that was around mombi's neck, forced her prisoner to climb into the sofas. the others now followed, and tip gave the word to the gump to return. the journey was made in safety, mombi sitting in her place with a grim and sullen air; for the old hag was absolutely helpless so long as the magical thread encircled her throat. the army hailed glinda's return with loud cheers, and the party of friends soon gathered again in the royal tent, which had been neatly repaired during their absence. "now," said the sorceress to mombi, "i want you to tell us why the wonderful wizard of oz paid you three visits, and what became of the child, ozma, which so curiously disappeared." the witch looked at glinda defiantly, but said not a word. "answer me!" cried the sorceress. but still mombi remained silent. "perhaps she doesn't know," remarked jack. "i beg you will keep quiet," said tip. "you might spoil everything with your foolishness." "very well, dear father!" returned the pumpkinhead, meekly. "how glad i am to be a woggle-bug!" murmured the highly magnified insect, softly. "no one can expect wisdom to flow from a pumpkin." "well," said the scarecrow, "what shall we do to make mombi speak? unless she tells us what we wish to know her capture will do us no good at all." "suppose we try kindness," suggested the tin woodman. "i've heard that anyone can be conquered with kindness, no matter how ugly they may be." at this the witch turned to glare upon him so horribly that the tin woodman shrank back abashed. glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she turned to mombi and said: "you will gain nothing, i assure you, by thus defying us. for i am determined to learn the truth about the girl ozma, and unless you tell me all that you know, i will certainly put you to death." "oh, no! don't do that!" exclaimed the tin woodman. "it would be an awful thing to kill anyone--even old mombi!" "but it is merely a threat," returned glinda. "i shall not put mombi to death, because she will prefer to tell me the truth." "oh, i see!" said the tin man, much relieved. "suppose i tell you all that you wish to know," said mombi, speaking so suddenly that she startled them all. "what will you do with me then?" "in that case," replied glinda, "i shall merely ask you to drink a powerful draught which will cause you to forget all the magic you have ever learned." "then i would become a helpless old woman!" "but you would be alive," suggested the pumpkinhead, consolingly. "do try to keep silent!" said tip, nervously. "i'll try," responded jack; "but you will admit that it's a good thing to be alive." "especially if one happens to be thoroughly educated," added the woggle-bug, nodding approval. "you may make your choice," glinda said to old mombi, "between death if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you tell me the truth. but i think you will prefer to live." mombi cast an uneasy glance at the sorceress, and saw that she was in earnest, and not to be trifled with. so she replied, slowly: "i will answer your questions." "that is what i expected," said glinda, pleasantly. "you have chosen wisely, i assure you." she then motioned to one of her captains, who brought her a beautiful golden casket. from this the sorceress drew an immense white pearl, attached to a slender chain which she placed around her neck in such a way that the pearl rested upon her bosom, directly over her heart. "now," said she, "i will ask my first question: why did the wizard pay you three visits?" "because i would not come to him," answered mombi. "that is no answer," said glinda, sternly. "tell me the truth." "well," returned mombi, with downcast eyes, "he visited me to learn the way i make tea-biscuits." "look up!" commanded the sorceress. mombi obeyed. "what is the color of my pearl?" demanded glinda. "why--it is black!" replied the old witch, in a tone of wonder. "then you have told me a falsehood!" cried glinda, angrily. "only when the truth is spoken will my magic pearl remain a pure white in color." mombi now saw how useless it was to try to deceive the sorceress; so she said, meanwhile scowling at her defeat: "the wizard brought to me the girl ozma, who was then no more than a baby, and begged me to conceal the child." "that is what i thought," declared glinda, calmly. "what did he give you for thus serving him?" "he taught me all the magical tricks he knew. some were good tricks, and some were only frauds; but i have remained faithful to my promise." "what did you do with the girl?" asked glinda; and at this question everyone bent forward and listened eagerly for the reply. "i enchanted her," answered mombi. "in what way?" "i transformed her into--into--" "into what?" demanded glinda, as the witch hesitated. "_into a boy!_" said mombi, in a low tone. "a boy!" echoed every voice; and then, because they knew that this old woman had reared tip from childhood, all eyes were turned to where the boy stood. "yes," said the old witch, nodding her head; "that is the princess ozma--the child brought to me by the wizard who stole her father's throne. that is the rightful ruler of the emerald city!" and she pointed her long bony finger straight at the boy. "i!" cried tip, in amazement. "why, i'm no princess ozma--i'm not a girl!" glinda smiled, and going to tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. [illustration: mombi pointed her long, bony finger at the boy.] "you are not a girl just now," said she, gently, "because mombi transformed you into a boy. but you were born a girl, and also a princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become queen of the emerald city." "oh, let jinjur be the queen!" exclaimed tip, ready to cry. "i want to stay a boy, and travel with the scarecrow and the tin woodman, and the woggle-bug, and jack--yes! and my friend the saw-horse--and the gump! i don't want to be a girl!" "never mind, old chap," said the tin woodman, soothingly; "it don't hurt to be a girl, i'm told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. and, to be honest with you, i've always considered girls nicer than boys." "they're just as nice, anyway," added the scarecrow, patting tip affectionately upon the head. "and they are equally good students," proclaimed the woggle-bug. "i should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again." "but--see here!" said jack pumpkinhead, with a gasp: "if you become a girl, you can't be my dear father any more!" "no," answered tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety; "and i shall not be sorry to escape the relationship." then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to glinda: "i might try it for awhile,--just to see how it seems, you know. but if i don't like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again." [illustration] "really," said the sorceress, "that is beyond my magic. i never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. only unscrupulous witches use the art, and therefore i must ask mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. it will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic." now that the truth about princess ozma had been discovered, mombi did not care what became of tip; but she feared glinda's anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the emerald city. so the witch consented to effect the transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made. glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. it was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossamer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. the first act of the witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. then the tin woodman and the woggle-bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view. the witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. when the blaze shot up and burned clearly old mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the saw-horse to sneeze--although he had been warned to keep quiet. [illustration: mombi at her magical incantations.] then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. and now the incantation seemed complete, for the witch stood upright and cried the one word "yeowa!" in a loud voice. the vapor floated away; the atmosphere became clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a may morning. her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. all adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet. at this exquisite vision tip's old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely princess ozma. the girl herself cast one look into glinda's bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the others. speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: "i hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. i'm just the same tip, you know; only--only--" "only you're different!" said the pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the riches of content ] when the wonderful tidings reached the ears of queen jinjur--how mombi the witch had been captured; how she had confessed her crime to glinda; and how the long-lost princess ozma had been discovered in no less a personage than the boy tip--she wept real tears of grief and despair. "to think," she moaned, "that after having ruled as queen, and lived in a palace, i must go back to scrubbing floors and churning butter again! it is too horrible to think of! i will never consent!" so when her soldiers, who spent most of their time making fudge in the palace kitchens, counseled jinjur to resist, she listened to their foolish prattle and sent a sharp defiance to glinda the good and the princess ozma. the result was a declaration of war, and the very next day glinda marched upon the emerald city with pennants flying and bands playing, and a forest of shining spears sparkling brightly beneath the sun's rays. but when it came to the walls this brave assembly made a sudden halt; for jinjur had closed and barred every gateway, and the walls of the emerald city were builded high and thick with many blocks of green marble. finding her advance thus baffled, glinda bent her brows in deep thought, while the woggle-bug said, in his most positive tone: "we must lay siege to the city, and starve it into submission. it is the only thing we can do." "not so," answered the scarecrow. "we still have the gump, and the gump can still fly." the sorceress turned quickly at this speech, and her face now wore a bright smile. "you are right," she exclaimed, "and certainly have reason to be proud of your brains. let us go to the gump at once!" so they passed through the ranks of the army until they came to the place, near the scarecrow's tent, where the gump lay. glinda and princess ozma mounted first, and sat upon the sofas. then the scarecrow and his friends climbed aboard, and still there was room for a captain and three soldiers, which glinda considered sufficient for a guard. [illustration] now, at a word from the princess, the queer thing they had called the gump flopped its palm-leaf wings and rose into the air, carrying the party of adventurers high above the walls. they hovered over the palace, and soon perceived jinjur reclining in a hammock in the courtyard, where she was comfortably reading a novel with a green cover and eating green chocolates, confident that the walls would protect her from her enemies. obeying a quick command, the gump alighted safely in this very courtyard, and before jinjur had time to do more than scream, the captain and three soldiers leaped out and made the former queen a prisoner, locking strong chains upon both her wrists. that act really ended the war; for the army of revolt submitted as soon as they knew jinjur to be a captive, and the captain marched in safety through the streets and up to the gates of the city, which she threw wide open. then the bands played their most stirring music while glinda's army marched into the city, and heralds proclaimed the conquest of the audacious jinjur and the accession of the beautiful princess ozma to the throne of her royal ancestors. [illustration] at once the men of the emerald city cast off their aprons. and it is said that the women were so tired eating of their husbands' cooking that they all hailed the conquest of jinjur with joy. certain it is that, rushing one and all to the kitchens of their houses, the good wives prepared so delicious a feast for the weary men that harmony was immediately restored in every family. ozma's first act was to oblige the army of revolt to return to her every emerald or other gem stolen from the public streets and buildings; and so great was the number of precious stones picked from their settings by these vain girls, that every one of the royal jewelers worked steadily for more than a month to replace them in their settings. meantime the army of revolt was disbanded and the girls sent home to their mothers. on promise of good behavior jinjur was likewise released. ozma made the loveliest queen the emerald city had ever known; and, although she was so young and inexperienced, she ruled her people with wisdom and justice. for glinda gave her good advice on all occasions; and the woggle-bug, who was appointed to the important post of public educator, was quite helpful to ozma when her royal duties grew perplexing. the girl, in her gratitude to the gump for its services, offered the creature any reward it might name. "then," replied the gump, "please take me to pieces. i did not wish to be brought to life, and i am greatly ashamed of my conglomerate personality. once i was a monarch of the forest, as my antlers fully prove; but now, in my present upholstered condition of servitude, i am compelled to fly through the air--my legs being of no use to me whatever. therefore i beg to be dispersed." so ozma ordered the gump taken apart. the antlered head was again hung over the mantle-piece in the hall, and the sofas were untied and placed in the reception parlors. the broom tail resumed its accustomed duties in the kitchen, and finally, the scarecrow replaced all the clotheslines and ropes on the pegs from which he had taken them on the eventful day when the thing was constructed. you might think that was the end of the gump; and so it was, as a flying-machine. but the head over the mantle-piece continued to talk whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled, with its abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an audience with the queen. the saw-horse, being ozma's personal property, was tenderly cared for; and often she rode the queer creature along the streets of the emerald city. she had its wooden legs shod with gold, to keep them from wearing out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always filled the queen's subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence of her magical powers. "the wonderful wizard was never so wonderful as queen ozma," the people said to one another, in whispers; "for he claimed to do many things he could not do; whereas our new queen does many things no one would ever expect her to accomplish." jack pumpkinhead remained with ozma to the end of his days; and he did not spoil as soon as he had feared, although he always remained as stupid as ever. the woggle-bug tried to teach him several arts and sciences; but jack was so poor a student that any attempt to educate him was soon abandoned. after glinda's army had marched back home, and peace was restored to the emerald city, the tin woodman announced his intention to return to his own kingdom of the winkies. "it isn't a very big kingdom," said he to ozma, "but for that very reason it is easier to rule; and i have called myself an emperor because i am an absolute monarch, and no one interferes in any way with my conduct of public or personal affairs. when i get home i shall have a new coat of nickel plate; for i have become somewhat marred and scratched lately; and then i shall be glad to have you pay me a visit." "thank you," replied ozma. "some day i may accept the invitation. but what is to become of the scarecrow?" "i shall return with my friend the tin woodman," said the stuffed one, seriously. "we have decided never to be parted in the future." "and i have made the scarecrow my royal treasurer," explained the tin woodman. "for it has occurred to me that it is a good thing to have a royal treasurer who is made of money. what do you think?" "i think," said the little queen, smiling, "that your friend must be the richest man in all the world." "i am," returned the scarecrow; "but not on account of my money. for i consider brains far superior to money, in every way. you may have noticed that if one has money without brains, he cannot use it to advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will enable him to live comfortably to the end of his days." "at the same time," declared the tin woodman, "you must acknowledge that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create, and that money can not buy. perhaps, after all, it is i who am the richest man in all the world." "you are both rich, my friends," said ozma, gently; "and your riches are the only riches worth having--the riches of content!" [illustration: the end ] the oz books by l. frank baum _the wizard of oz_ [originally published as _the wonderful wizard of oz_] it is in this book that oz is "discovered." a little kansas girl--dorothy gale--is carried in her house to oz when a cyclone whisks it through the sky. as the house lands in the munchkin country (one of the four great countries of oz) it destroys a wicked witch and sends dorothy off on her first adventure in oz. she finds the scarecrow, meets the tin woodman and the cowardly lion, melts a second wicked witch with a pail of water and finds her way home. since this book appeared a half-century ago, we have learned many marvelous things about the land of oz. _the land of oz_ [originally published as _the marvelous land of oz_] this sequel to _the wizard of oz_ deals entirely with the early history of oz. no one from the united states or any other part of the "great outside world" appears in it. it takes its readers on a series of incredible adventures with tip, a small boy who runs away from old mombi, the witch, taking with him jack pumpkinhead and the wooden saw-horse. the scarecrow is king of the emerald city until he, tip, jack, and the tin woodman are forced to flee the royal palace when it is invaded by general jinjur and her army of rebelling girls. the _land of oz_ ends with an amazing surprise, and from that moment on ozma is princess of all oz. _ozma of oz_ few of the oz books are as crowded with exciting oz happenings as this one. not only does it bring dorothy back to oz on her second visit, but it introduces dorothy to ozma, relates ozma's first important adventure, and introduces for the first time such famous oz characters as tik-tok, the mechanical man, billina the hen, the hungry tiger, and--_the nome king_! most of the adventures in this book take place outside oz, in the land of ev and the nome kingdom. scarcely a page fails to quiver with excitement, magic and adventure. _dorothy and the wizard in oz_ of course, everyone always predicted it would happen! and in this book it does--the wizard comes back to oz to stay. best of all, he comes with dorothy, who is having adventure number three that leads her to oz, this time via a california earthquake. in this book we meet dorothy's pink kitten, eureka, whose manners need adjusting badly, and two good friends who we are sorry did not remain in oz--jim the cabhorse, and zeb, dorothy's young cousin, who works on a ranch as a hired boy. _the road to oz_ we like to think of this volume as "the party book of oz." almost everyone loves a party, and when ozma has a birthday party with notables from every part of fairyland attending--well! it is just like attending ozma's party in person. you meet the famous of oz, and lots of others, such as queen zixi of ix, john dough, chick the cherub, the queen of merryland, para bruin the rubber bear and--best of all--santa claus himself! of course there are lots of adventures on that famous road to oz before the party, during which dorothy, on her way to oz for the fourth time, meets such heart-warming characters as the shaggy man, button-bright, and lovely polychrome, daughter of the rainbow. _the emerald city of oz_ here is a "double" story of oz. while dorothy, her aunt em and uncle henry experience the events that lead to their going to oz to make their home in the emerald city, the wicked nome king is plotting to conquer oz and enslave its people. later we go with dorothy and her friends in the red wagon on a grand tour of oz that is simply packed with excitement and events. while this transpires, we learn also of the nome king's elaborate preparations to conquer oz. as dorothy and her friends return to the emerald city, the nome king and his hordes of warriors are about to invade it. how oz is saved is an ending that will amaze and delight you. _the patchwork girl of oz_ here, the patchwork girl is brought to life by dr. pipt's magic powder of life. from that moment on the action never slows down in this exciting book. it tells of ojo's quest for the strange ingredients necessary to brew a magic liquid that will release his unk nunkie from a spell--the spell cast by the liquid of petrifaction, which has turned him into a marble statue. in addition to the patchwork girl, ojo and unk nunkie, this book introduces those famous oz creatures, the woozy, and bungle the glass cat. oz certainly has become a merrier, happier land since the patchwork girl came to life, and this is the book that tells how scraps came to be made, how she was brought to life, and all about her early adventures. _tik-tok of oz_ for the second time a little girl from the united states comes to oz. betsy bobbin is shipwrecked in the nonestic ocean with her friend hank the mule. the two drift to shore in the rose kingdom on a fragment of wreckage. betsy meets the shaggy man and accompanies him to the nome kingdom, where shaggy hopes to release his brother, a prisoner of the nome king. on their way to the nome kingdom, one fascinating adventure follows another. they meet queen ann soforth of oogaboo and her army, and lovely polychrome, who had lost her rainbow again; they rescue tik-tok from a well; and are dropped through a hollow tube to the other side of the world where they meet quox, the dragon. you'll find it one of the most exciting of all the oz books. _the scarecrow of oz_ this is the oz book which l. frank baum considered his best. it starts quietly enough with trot and cap'n bill rowing along a shore of the pacific ocean to visit one of the many caves near their home on the california coast. suddenly, a mighty whirlpool engulfs them. the old sailorman and the little girl are miraculously saved and regain consciousness to find themselves in a sea cavern. (to this day, trot asserts she felt mermaid arms about her during those terrible moments under water.) from here on, one perilous adventure crowds in upon another. in jinxland they meet the scarecrow who takes charge of things once cap'n bill is transformed into a tiny grasshopper with a wooden leg. an exciting royal reception greets the adventurers upon their return to the emerald city. _rinkitink in oz_ prince inga of pingaree is the boy hero of this fine story of peril-filled adventure in the islands of the nonestic ocean. king rinkitink provides comic relief, and by the time you reach the final page you will love this fat, jolly little king. bilbil the goat, with his surly disposition, provides a fine contrast to rinkitink's merriment and prince inga's bravery and courage in the face of danger. some may say that the three magic pearls are the real heroes of this story, but the pearls would have been of little use to king kitticut and queen garee if prince inga hadn't used them wisely and courageously. _the lost princess of oz_ talk about _button-bright_ getting lost--_ozma_ is almost as bad! this is actually the second time ozma has been lost. as you know, once she was "lost" for many years. but in this book she is lost for only a short time. as soon as it is discovered that the ruler of oz is lost--and with her all the important magical instruments in oz--search parties, one for each of the four countries of oz, set out to find her. we follow the adventures of the party headed by dorothy and the wizard, who explore unknown parts of the winkie country in search of ozma. how ozma is found, and where she has been, will surprise you. frogman, a new character, is introduced in this book. _the tin woodman of oz_ woot the wanderer causes this chapter of oz history to transpire. when woot wanders into the splendid tin castle of nick chopper, the tin woodman and emperor of the winkies, he meets the scarecrow, who is visiting his old friend. the tin woodman tells woot the story of how he had once been a flesh-and-blood woodman in love with a maiden named nimmie aimee. woot suggests that since the tin woodman now has a kind and loving heart, it is his duty to find nimmie aimee and make her empress of the winkies. the scarecrow agrees, so the three set off to search for the girl. no less surprising than the adventures encountered on the journey is nimmie aimee's reception of her former suitor. _the magic of oz_ old ruggedo, the former nome king, comes to oz for the second time, and makes more trouble than he did on his first visit. ruggedo never gives up the idea of conquering oz, and this time he has the advantage of being in the country without ozma's knowledge. also, he has the magic and somewhat grudging help of kiki aru, the munchkin boy who is illegally practicing the art. if you like magic, then this is a book for you. there's magic on every page, and everyone in the story eventually is transformed into something else, or bewitched in one way or another. even the wild animals in the great forest of gugu do not escape. _glinda of oz_ this is the last oz book written by l. frank baum. it is one of the best in the series, with dorothy, ozma, and glinda in an adventure that takes them to an amazing crystal-domed city on an enchanted island. this island is situated in a lake in the gillikin country. ozma and glinda are confronted by powerful magic and determined enemies. for a time dorothy and ozma are prisoners in the crystal-domed city which is able to submerge below the surface of the lake. few of the oz books equal this one in suspense and mystery--a story that is truly "out of this world." [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] * * * * * +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | transcriber notes: | | | | p.6. 'ecstacy.' changed to 'ecstasy.' | | p.208. 'nickle-plate' changed to 'nickel-plate' | | p.285. 'liquid of petrefaction' changed to 'liquid of petrifaction'.| | taken hypen out of pumpkinhead or pumpkinheads. | | fixed various punctuation. | | | | text surrounded by _this_ indicated italics, and text surrounded | | by =this= indicates bold. | | | +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ a heroine of france the story of joan of arc by evelyn everett-green contents chapter i. how i first heard of the maid. chapter ii. how i first saw the maid. chapter iii. how the maid came to vaucouleurs. chapter iv. how the maid was tried and tested. chapter v. how the maid journeyed to chinon. chapter vi. how the maid came to the king. chapter vii. how the maid was hindered; yet made preparation. chapter viii. how the maid marched for orleans. chapter ix. how the maid assumed command at orleans. chapter x. how the maid led us into battle. chapter xi. how the maid bore triumph and trouble. chapter xii. how the maid raised the siege. chapter xiii. how the maid won a new name. chapter xiv. how the maid cleared the king's way. chapter xv. how the maid rode with the king. chapter xvi. how the maid accomplished her mission. chapter xvii. how the maid was persuaded. chapter xviii. how i last saw the maid. chapter i. how i first heard of the maid. "the age of chivalry--alas!--is dead. the days of miracles are past and gone! what future is there for hapless france? she lies in the dust. how can she hope to rise?" sir guy de laval looked full in our faces as he spoke these words, and what could one reply? ah me!--those were sad and sorrowful days for france--and for those who thought upon the bygone glories of the past, when she was mistress of herself, held high her head, and was a power with hostile nations. what would the great charlemagne say, could he see us now? what would even st. louis of blessed memory feel, could he witness the changes wrought by only a century and a half? surely it were enough to cause them to turn in their graves! the north lying supine at the feet of the english conqueror; licking his hand, as a dog licks that of his master, lost to all sense of shame that an english infant in his cradle (so to speak) should rule through a regent the fair realm of france, whilst its own lawful king, banished from his capital and from half his kingdom, should keep his court at bourges or chinon, passing his days in idle revelry, heedless of the eclipse of former greatness, careless of the further aggressions threatened by the ever-encroaching foe. was orleans to fall next into the greedy maw of the english adventurers? was it not already threatened? and how could it be saved if nothing could rouse the king from his slothful indifference? o for the days of chivalry!--the days so long gone by! whilst i, jean de novelpont, was musing thus, a curious look overshadowed the face of bertrand de poulengy, our comrade and friend, with whom, when we had said adieu to sir guy a few miles farther on, i was to return to vaucouleurs, to pay a long-promised visit there. i had been journeying awhile with sir guy in germany, and he was on his way to the court at chinon; for we were all of the armagnac party, loyal to our rightful monarch, whether king or only dauphin still, since he had not been crowned, and had adopted no truly regal state or authority; and we were earnestly desirous of seeing him awaken from his lethargy and put himself at the head of an army, resolved to drive out the invaders from the land, and be king of france in truth as well as in name. but so far it seemed as though nothing short of a miracle would effect this, and the days of miracles, as sir guy had said, were now past and gone. then came the voice of bertrand, speaking in low tones, as a man speaks who communes with himself; but we heard him, for we were riding over the thick moss of the forest glade, and the horses' feet sank deep and noiseless in the sod, and our fellows had fallen far behind, so that their laughter and talk no longer broke upon our ears. the dreamy stillness of the autumn woodlands was about us, when the songs of the birds are hushed, and the light falls golden through the yellowing leaves, and a glory more solemn than that of springtide lies upon the land. methinks there is something in the gradual death of the year which attunes our hearts to a certain gentle melancholy; and perchance this was why sir guy's words had lacked the ring of hopeful bravery that was natural to one of his temperament, and why bertrand's eyes were so grave and dreamy, and his voice seemed to come from far away. "and yet i do bethink me that six months agone i did behold a scene which seems to me to hold within its scope something of miracle and of mystery. i have thought of it by day, and dreamed of it by night, and the memory of it will not leave me, i trow, so long as breath and being remain!" we turned and looked at him--the pair of us--with eyes which questioned better than our tongues. bertrand and i had been comrades and friends in boyhood; but of late years we had been much sundered. i had not seen him for above a year, till he joined us the previous wednesday at nancy, having received a letter i did send to him from thence. he came to beg of me to visit him at his kinsman's house, the seigneur robert de baudricourt of vaucouleurs; and since my thirst for travel was assuaged, and my purse something over light to go to court, i was glad to end my wanderings for the nonce, in the company of one whom i still loved as a brother. from the first i had noted that bertrand was something graver and more thoughtful than had been his wont. now i did look at him with wonder in my eyes. what could he be speaking of? he answered as though the question had passed my lips. "it was may of this present year of grace," he said, "i mind it the better that it was the feast of the ascension, and i had kept fast and vigil, had made my confession and received the holy sacrament early in the day. i was in my lodging overlooking the market place, and hard by the castle which as you know hangs, as it were, over the town, guarding or threatening it, as the case may be, when a messenger arrived from my kinsman, de baudricourt, bidding me to a council which he was holding at noon that day. i went to him without delay; and he did tell me a strange tale. "not long since, so he said, an honest prud'homme of the neighbouring village of burey le petit, durand laxart by name, had asked speech with him, and had then told him that a young niece of his, dwelling in the village of domremy, had come to him a few days since, saying it had been revealed to her how that she was to be used by the god of heaven as an instrument in his hands for the redemption of france; and she had been told in a vision to go first to the seigneur de baudricourt, who would then find means whereby she should be sent to the dauphin (as she called him), whom she was to cause to be made king of france." "mort de dieu!" cried sir guy, as he gazed at bertrand with a look betwixt laughter and amaze, "and what said your worshipful uncle to that same message?" "at the first, he told me, he broke into a great laugh, and bid the honest fellow box the girl's ears well, and send her back to her mother. but he added that the man had been to him once again, and had pleaded that at least he would see his niece before sending her away; and since by this time he was himself somewhat curious to see and to question this village maiden, who came with so strange a tale, he had told laxart to bring her at noon that very day, and he desired that i and certain others should be there in the hall with him, to hear her story, and perhaps suggest some shrewd question which might help to test her good faith." "a good thought," spoke sir guy, "for it is hard to believe in these dreamers of dreams. i have met such myself--they talk great swelling words, but the world wags on its way in spite of them. they are no prophets; they are bags of wind. they make a stir and a commotion for a brief while, and then they vanish to be heard of no more." "it may be so," answered bertrand, whose face was grave, and whose steadfast dark-blue eyes had taken a strange shining, "i can only speak of that which i did see and hear. what the future may hold none can say. god alone doth know that." "then you saw this maid--and heard her speech. what looked she like?--and what said she?" "i will tell you all the tale. we were gathered there in the great hall. there were perhaps a score of us; the seigneur at the head of the council table, the abbe perigord on his right, and the count of la roche on his left. there were two priests also present, and the chiefest knights and gentlemen of the town. we had all been laughing gaily at the thought of what a village maid of but seventeen summers--or thereabouts--would feel on being introduced into the presence of such a company. we surmised that she would shrink into the very ground for shame. one gentleman declared that it was cruel to ask her to face so many strangers of condition so much more exalted than her own; but de baudricourt cried out, 'why man, the wench is clamouring to be taken to the king at his court! if she cannot face a score of simple country nobles here, how can she present herself at chinon? let her learn her place by a sharp lesson here; so may she understand that she had best return to her distaff and spindle and leave the crowning of kings to other hands!' and it was in the midst of the roar of laughter which greeted this speech that the door opened slowly--and we saw the maid of whom we had been talking." "and she doubtless heard your mirth," spoke i, and he bent his head in assent. "i trow she did," he answered, "but think you that the ribald jests of mortal men can touch one of the angels of god? she stood for a moment framed in the doorway, and i tell you i lie not when i declare that it seemed to all present as though a halo of pure white light encircled her. where the light came from i know not; but many there were, like myself, who noted it. the far end of the hall was dim and dark; but yet we saw her clear as she moved forward. upon her face was a shining such as i have seen upon none other. she wore the simple peasant dress of her class, with the coif upon her head; yet it seemed to me--ay, and to others too--as though she was habited in rich apparel. perchance it was that when one had seen her face, one could no longer think upon her raiment. if a queen--if an angel--if a saint from heaven stood in stately calm and dignity before one's eyes, how could we think of the raiment worn? we should see nothing but the grandeur and beauty of the face and form!" "mort de dieu!" cried sir guy with his favourite oath, "but you look, good bertrand, as though you had gazed upon some vision from the unseen world!" "nay," he answered gravely, "but i have looked upon the face of one whom god has visited through his saints. i have seen the reflection of his glory in human eyes; and so i can never say with others that the days of miracles are past." bertrand spoke with a solemnity and earnestness which could not but impress us deeply. our eyes begged him to continue, and he told the rest of his tale very simply. "she came forward with this strange shining in her eyes. she bent before us with simple reverence; but then lifted herself up to her full height and looked straight at de baudricourt without boldness and without fear, as though she saw in him a tool in the hand of god, and had no other thought for him besides. "'seigneur,' she said, 'my lord has bidden me come to you, that you may send me to the dauphin; for he has given me a message to him which none else may bear; and he has told me that you will do it, therefore i know that you will not fail him, and your laughter troubles me not.' "'who is your lord, my child?' asked de baudricourt, not laughing now, but pulling at his beard and frowning in perplexity. "'even the lord of heaven, sire,' she answered, and her hands clasped themselves loosely together whilst her eyes looked upward with a smile such as i have seen on none other face before. 'he that is my lord and your lord and the lord of this realm of france. but it is his holy will that the dauphin shall be its king, and that he shall drive back the english, and that the crown shall be set upon his head. and this, with other matters which are for his ear alone i am sent to tell him; and you, good my lord, are he who shall send me to my king.' "thus she spoke, and looked at us all with those shining eyes of hers; yet it seemed to me she scarce saw us. her glance did go beyond, as though she were gazing in vision upon the things which were to be." "she was beautiful, you say?" asked sir guy, whose interest was keenly aroused; but who, i saw, was doubtful whether bertrand had not been deceived by some witchery of fair face and graceful form; for bertrand, albeit a man of thews and sinews and bold as a lion in fight, was something of the dreamer too, as warriors in all ages have sometimes been. "yes--as an angel of god is beautiful," he answered, "ask me not of that; for i can tell you nothing. i know not the hue of her hair or of her eyes, nor what her face was like, nor her form, save that she was tall and very slender; but beautiful--ah yes!--with the beauty which this world cannot give; a beauty which silenced every flippant jest, shamed every scoffing thought, turned ridicule into wonder, contempt into reverence. whether this wonderful maiden came in truth as a messenger of god or no, at least not one present but saw well that she herself believed heart and soul in her divine commission." "and what answer did the seigneur de baudricourt make to her?" "he gazed upon her full for awhile, and then he suddenly asked of her, 'and when shall all these wonders come to pass?' "she, with her gaze fixed still a little upwards, answered, 'before mid-lent next year shall succour reach him; then will the city of orleans be in sore straight; but help shall come, and the english shall fly before the sword of the lord. afterwards shall the dauphin receive consecration at rheims, and the crown of france shall be set upon his head, in token that he is the anointed of the lord.' "'and who has told you all this, my child?' asked de baudricourt then, answering gently, as one speaks within a church. "'mes voix,' she answered, speaking as one who dreams, and in dreaming listens. "'what voices?' asked de baudricourt, 'and have you naught but voices to instruct you in such great matters?' "'yes, sire,' she answered softly, 'i have seen the great archangel michael, his sword drawn in his hand; and i know that he has drawn it for the deliverance of france, and that though he has chosen so humble an instrument as myself, yet that to him and to the lord of heaven will he the victory and the glory.' "when she had thus spoken there was a great silence in the hall, in which might have been heard the fall of a pin, and i vow that whether it were trick of summer sunshine or no, the light about the maiden seemed to grow brighter and brighter. her face was just slightly uplifted as one who listens, and upon her lips there was a smile. "'and i know that you will send me to the dauphin, robert de baudricourt,' she suddenly said, 'because my voices tell me so.' "we all looked at de baudricourt, who sat chin on hand, gazing at the maiden as though he would read her very soul. we waited, wondering, for him to speak at last he did. "'well, my girl, i will think of all this. we have till next year, by your own showing, ere these great things shall come to pass. so get you home, and see what your father and mother say to all this, and whether the archangel michael comes again or no. go home--be a good girl, and we will see what we will see.'" "was that all he promised?" spoke sir guy with a short laugh. "i trow the maiden dreamer would not thank him for that word! a deliverer of princes to be bidden to go home and be a good girl! what said she to that counsel?" "ay, well you may ask," spoke bertrand with subdued emotion. "just such a question sprang to my lips as i heard my kinsman's answer. i looked to see her face fall, to see sparks of anger flash from her eyes, or a great disappointment cloud the serene beauty of her countenance. but instead of this a wonderful smile lighted it, and her sweet and resonant voice sounded clear through the hall. "'ah, now seigneur, i know you for a good and true man! you speak as did my voices when first i heard them. "jeanne, sois bonne et sage enfant; va souvent a l'eglise"; that was their first message to me, when i was but a child; and now you say the same to me--be a good girl. thus i know that your heart is right, and that when my lord's time is come you will send me with his message to the dauphin.' "and so saying she bent again in a modest reverence before us. yet let me tell you that as she did so, every man of us sprang to his feet by an impulse which each one felt, yet none could explain. as one man we rose, and bowed before her, as she retired from the hail with the simple, stately grace of a young queen. not till the door had closed behind her did we bethink us that it was to a humble peasant girl we had paid unconscious homage. we who had thought she would well-nigh sink to the dust at sight of us, had been made to feel that we were in the presence of royalty!" "tu dieu! but that is a strange story!" quoth sir guy with knitted brows. "for many a long day i have heard nought so strange! what think you of it yourself, good bertrand? for by my troth you speak like a man convinced that a miracle may even yet be wrought for france at the hand of this maid." "and if i do, is that so strange? cannot it be that the good god may still speak through his saints to the sons of men, and may raise up a deliverer for us, even as he did in the days of old for his chosen people? is his arm shortened at all? and is it meet that we christian knights should trust him less than did the jews of old?" sir guy made no reply, but fell into thought, and then asked a sudden question: "who is this peasant maid of whom you speak? and where is she now? is she still abiding content at home, awaiting the time appointed by her visions?" "i trow that she is," answered bertrand. "i did hear that she went home without delay, as quietly as she had come. her name is jeanne d'arc. she dwells in the village of domremy over yonder. her father is an honest prud'homme of the place. she has brothers and a sister. she is known in the village as a pious and gentle maid, ever ready to tend the sick, hold vigil for the dead, take charge of an ailing child, or do any such simple service for the neighbours. she is beloved of all, full of piety and good works, constant in attendance at church, regular in her confession and at mass. so much have i heard from her kinsman laxart, though for mine own part i have not seen her again." "and what thinks de baudricourt of her mission? does he ever speak of it?" "not often; and yet i know that he has not forgotten it. for ofttimes he does sink into a deep reverie; and disjointed words break from him, which tell me whither his thoughts have flown. "at the first he did say to me, 'let the girl go home; let us see if we hear more of her. if this be but a phantasy on her part; if she has been fasting and praying and dreaming, till she knows not what is true and what is her own imagining, why, time will cure her of her fancies and follies. if otherwise--well, we will see when the time comes. to act in haste were to act with folly.' "and so he dismissed the matter, though, as i say, he doth not forget it, and i think never a day comes but he thinks on it." "and while the lord waits, the english are active!" cried sir guy with a note of impatience in his voice. "they are already threatening orleans. soon they will march in strength upon it. and if that city once fall, why what hope is there even for such remnants of his kingdom as still remain faithful south of the loire? the english will have them all. already they call our king in mockery 'the king of bourges;' soon even that small domain will be reft away, and then what will remain for him or for us? if the visions of the maiden had been true, why doth not the lord strike now, before salisbury of england can invest the city? if orleans fall, all is lost!" "but jeanne says that orleans shall be saved," spoke bertrand in a low voice, "and if she speaks sooth, must not she and we alike leave the times and seasons in the hand of the lord?" sir guy shrugged his shoulders, and gave me a shrewd glance, the meaning of which i was at no loss to understand. he thought that bertrand's head had been something turned, and that he had become a visionary, looking rather for a miracle from heaven than for deliverance from the foe through hard fighting by loyal men marching under the banner of their king. truth we all knew well that little short of a miracle would arouse the indolent and discouraged charles, cowed by the english foe, doubtful of his own right to call himself dauphin, distrustful of his friends, despairing of winning the love or trust of his subjects. but could it indeed be possible that such a miracle could be wrought, and by an instrument so humble as a village maid--this jeanne d'arc? but the time had come when we must say adieu to our comrade, and turn ourselves back to vaucouleurs, if we were not to be benighted in the forest ere we could reach that place. we halted for our serving men to come up; and as we did so bertrand said in a low voice to sir guy: "i pray you, seigneur de laval, speak no word to his majesty of this maid and her mission, until such time as news may reach him of her from other sources." "i will say no word," answered the other, smiling, and so with many friendly words we parted, and bertrand and i, with one servant behind us, turned our horses' heads back along the road by which we had come. "bertrand," i said, as the shadows lengthened, the soft dusk fell in the forest, and the witchery of the evening hour fell upon my heart, "i would that i could see this maiden of whom you speak, this jeanne d'arc of the village of domremy." he turned and looked me full in the face; i saw his eyes glow and the colour deepen in his cheeks. "you would not go to mock, friend jean de metz?" he said, for so i am generally named amongst my friends. "nay," i answered truthfully, "there is no thought of mockery in my heart; yet i fain would see the maid." he paused awhile in thought and then made answer: "at least we may ride together one day to domremy; but whether or no we see the maid will be according to the will of heaven." chapter ii. how i first saw the maid. i did not forget my desire to see this maiden of domremy, nor did bertrand, i trow, forget the promise, albeit some days passed by ere we put our plan into action. bad news kept coming in to the little loyal township of vaucouleurs. there was no manner of doubt but that the english regent, bedford, was resolved to lose no more time, but seek to put beneath his iron heel the whole of the realm of france. gascony had been english so long that the people could remember nothing different than the rule of the roy outremer--as of old they called him. now all france north of the loire owned the same sway, and as all men know, the duke of burgundy was ally to the english, and hated the dauphin with a deadly hatred, for the murder of his father--for which no man can justly blame him. true, his love for the english had cooled manifestly since that affair of duke humphrey of gloucester and jacquelaine of brabant, in which as was natural, he took the part of his brother; but although the duke of bedford was highly indignant with duke humphrey, and gave him no manner of support in his rash expedition, yet the duke of burgundy resented upon the english what had been done, and although it did not drive him into the arms of the dauphin, whom he hated worse, it loosened the bond between him and our foes, and we had hoped it might bring about a better state of things for our party. yet alas!--this seemed as far as ever from being so; and the burgundian soldiers still ravaged along our borders, and it seemed ofttimes as though we little loyal community of the duchy of bar would be swallowed up altogether betwixt the two encroaching foes. so our hearts were often heavy and our faces grave with fear. i noted in the manner of the governor, whose guest i had now become, a great gravity, which in old days had not been there; for robert de baudricourt, as i remembered him, had ever been a man of merry mood, with a great laugh, a ready jest, and that sort of rough, bluff courage that makes light of trouble and peril. now, however, we often saw him sunk in some deep reverie, his chin upon his hand, his eyes gazing full into the blaze of the leaping fire of logs, which always flamed upon the hearth in the great hall, where the most part of his time was spent. he would go hunting or hawking by day, or ride hither and thither through the town, looking into matters there, or sit to listen to the affairs of the citizens or soldiers as they were brought before him; and at such times his manner would be much as it had ever been of yore--quick, almost rough, yet not unkindly--whilst the shrewd justice he always meted out won the respect of the people, and made him a favourite in the town. but when the evening fell, and the day's work was done, and after supper we sat in the hall, with the dogs slumbering around us, talking of any news which might have come in, either of raids by the roving burgundians, or the advance of the english towards orleans, then these darker moods would fall upon him; and once when he had sat for well-nigh an hour without moving, his brow drawn and furrowed, and his eyes seemingly sunk deeper in his head, bertrand leaned towards me and whispered in mine ear: "he is thinking of the maid of domremy!" de baudricourt could not have heard the words, yet when he spoke a brief while later, it almost seemed as though he might have done so. "nephew," he said, lifting his head abruptly and gazing across at us, "tell me again the words of that prophecy of merlin's, spoken long, long ago, of which men whisper in these days, and of which you did speak to me awhile back." "marry, good mine uncle, the prophecy runs thus," answered bertrand, rising and crossing over towards the great fire before which his kinsman sat, "'that france should be destroyed by the wiles of a woman, and saved and redeemed by a maiden.'" the bushy brows met in a fierce scowl over the burning eyes; his words came in a great burst of indignation and scorn. "ay, truly--he spake truly--the wise man--the wizard! a woman to be the ruin of the kingdom! ay, verily, and has it not been so? who but that wicked queen isabeau is at the bottom of the disgraceful treaty of troyes, wherein france sold herself into the hands of the english? did she not repudiate her own son? did not her hatred burn so fiercely against him that she was ready to tarnish her own good fame and declare him illegitimate, rather than that he should succeed his father as king of france? did she not give her daughter to the english king in wedlock, that their child might reign over this fair realm? truly has the kingdom been destroyed by the wiles of a woman! but i vow it will take more than the strength of any maiden to save and redeem it from the woes beneath which it lies crushed!" "in sooth it doth seem so," answered bertrand with grave and earnest countenance, "but yet with the good god nothing is impossible. hath he not said before this that he doth take of the mean and humble to confound the great of the earth? did not the three hundred with gideon overcome the hosts of the moabites? did not the cake of barley bread overturn the tent and the camp of the foe?" "ay, if the good god will arise to work miracles again, such things might be; but how can we look for him to do so? what manner of man is the dauphin of france that he should look for divine deliverance? 'god helps those who help themselves,' so says the proverb; but what of those who lie sunk in lethargy or despair, and seek to drown thought or care in folly and riotous living--heedless of the ruin of the realm?" "there is another proverb, good mine uncle, that tells how man's extremity is god's opportunity," quoth bertrand thoughtfully; "if we did judge of god's mercy by man's worthiness to receive the same, we might well sink in despair. but his power and his goodness are not limited by our infirmities, and therein alone lies our hope." de baudricourt uttered a sound between a snort and a grunt. i knew not what he thought of bertrand's answer; but that brief dialogue aroused within me afresh the desire i had before expressed to see the maid, jeanne of domremy; and as the sun upon the morrow shone out bright and clear, after a week of heavy rain storms, we agreed that no better opportunity could we hope for to ride across to the little village, and try whether it were possible to obtain speech with the young girl about whom such interest had been aroused in some breasts. we spoke no word to de baudricourt of our intention. bertrand knew from his manner that he was thinking more and more earnestly of that declaration on the part of the village maiden that her lord--the king of heaven--had revealed to her that she must be sent to the dauphin, to help him to drive out the english from his country, and to place the crown of france upon his head, and that he, robert de baudricourt, was the instrument who would be used to speed her on her way. bertrand knew that this thought was weighing upon the mind of his kinsman, and the more so as the time for the fulfilment of the prophecy drew nearer. autumn had come. winter was hard at hand; and before mid-lent the promised succour to france was to arrive through the means of this maiden--this jeanne d'arc. "he is waiting and watching," spoke bertrand, as we rode through the forest, the thinning leaves of which allowed the sunlight to play merrily upon our path. "he says in his heart that if this thing be of god, the maid will come again when the time draws near; but that if it is phantasy, or if she be deluded of the devil, perchance his backwardness will put a check upon her ardour, and we shall hear no more of it. the abbe perigord, his confessor, has bidden him beware lest it be a snare of the evil one"--and as he spoke these words bertrand crossed himself, and i did the like, for the forest is an ill place in which to talk of the devil, as all men know. "but for my part, when i think upon her words, and see again the look of her young face, i cannot believe that she has been thus deceived; albeit we are told that the devil can make himself appear as an angel of light." this was the puzzle, of course. but surely the church had power to discern betwixt the wiles of the evil one and the finger of god. there were words and signs which any possessed of the devil must needs fly before. i could not think that the church need fear deception, even though a village maid might be deceived. the forest was very beautiful that day, albeit travelling was something slow, owing to the softness of the ground, and the swollen condition of the brooks, which often forced us to go round by the bridges instead of taking the fords; so that we halted a few miles from domremy to bait our horses and to appease our own hunger, for by that time our appetite was sharp set. it was there, as we sat at table, and talked with mine host, that we heard somewhat more of this maid, whom we had started forth in hopes to see. bertrand was known for the kinsman of de baudricourt and all the countryside knew well the tale, how that jeanne d'arc had gone to him in the springtide of the year, demanding an escort to the dauphin king of france, for whom she had a message from the king of heaven, and whom she was to set upon his throne. "when she came home again, having accomplished nothing," spoke the innkeeper, leaning his hands upon the table and greatly enjoying the sound of his own voice, "all the village made great mock of her! they called her the king's marshal, the little queen, jeanne the prophetess, and i know not what beside. her father was right wroth with her. long ago he had a dream about her, which troubled him somewhat, as he seemed to see his daughter in the midst of fighting men, leading them on to battle." "did he dream that? surely that is something strange for the vision of a village prud'homme anent his little daughter." "ay truly, though at the time he thought little of it, but when all this came to pass he recalled it again; and he smote jeanne upon the ear with his open hand, and bid her return to her needle and her household tasks, and think no more of matters too great for her. moreover, he declared that if ever she were to disgrace herself by mingling with men-at-arms, he would call upon her brothers to drown her, and if they disobeyed him, he would take and do it with his own hands!" "a spartan father, truly!" murmured bertrand. "o ay--but he is a very honest man, is jacques d'arc; and he was very wroth at all the talk about his daughter, and he vowed she should wed an honest man, as she is now of age to do, and so forget her dreams and her visions, and take care of her house and her husband and the children the good god should send them--like other wedded wives." "then has she indeed wedded?" asked bertrand earnestly. "ah, that is another story!" answered our host, wagging his head and spreading out his hands. "it would take too long were i to tell you all, messires; but so much will i tell. they did find a man who had long desired the pretty jeanne for his wife, and he did forswear himself and vow that he had been betrothed to jeanne with her own free will and consent, and that now he claimed her as his wife. jeanne, whose courage is high, though she be so quiet and modest in her daily life, did vehemently deny the charge, whereupon the angry father and his friend, the claimant of her hand, did bring it into the court, and the maid had to defend herself there from the accusation of broken faith. but by st. michael and all his angels!--how she did confound them all! she asked no help from lawyers, though one did offer himself to her. she called no witnesses herself; but she questioned the witnesses brought against her, and also the man who would fain have become her lord, and out of their own mouths did she convict them of lying and hypocrisy and conspiracy, so that she was triumphantly acquitted, and her judges called her a most wonderful child, and told her mother to be proud of such a daughter!" i saw a flush rise to bertrand's cheek, a flush as of pride and joy. and indeed, i myself rejoiced to hear the end of the tale; for it did seem as though this maiden had been persecuted with rancour and injustice, and that is a thing which no man can quietly endure to hear or see. "and how have they of domremy behaved themselves to her since?" i asked; and bertrand listened eagerly for the answer. "oh, they have taken her to favour once more; her father has been kind again; her mother ever loved jeanne much, for her gentleness and beauty and helpfulness at home. all the people love her, when not stirred to mockery by such fine pretensions. if she will remain quietly at home like a wise and discreet maiden, no one will long remember against her her foolish words and dreams." as we rode through the fields and woodlands towards domremy, the light began to take the golden hue which it does upon the autumn afternoon, and upon that day it shone with a wonderful radiance such as is not uncommon after rain. we were later than we had meant, but there would be a moon to light us when the sun sank, and both we and our horses knew the roads well; or we could even sleep, if we were so minded, at the auberge where we had dined. so we were in no haste or hurry. we picked our way leisurely towards the village, and bertrand told me of the fairy well and the fairy tree in the forest hard by, so beloved of the children of domremy, and of which so much has been heard of late, though at that time i knew nothing of any such things. but fairy lore has ever a charm for me, and i bid him show me these same things. so we turned a little aside into the forest, and found ourselves in a lovely glade, where the light shone so soft and golden, and where the songs of the birds sounded so sweet and melodious, that i felt as though we were stepping through an enchanted world, and well could i believe that the fairies danced around the well, sunk deep in its mossy dell, and fringed about with ferns and flowers and the shade of drooping trees. but fairies there were none visible to our eyes, and we moved softly onwards towards the spreading tree hard by. but ere we reached it, we both drew rein as by a common impulse, for we had seen a sight which arrested and held us spellbound, ay, and more than that, for the wonder and amaze of it fell also upon the horses we bestrode. for scarcely had we drawn rein, before they both began to tremble and to sweat, and stood with their forefeet planted, their necks outstretched, their nostrils distended; uttering short, gasping, snorting sounds, as a horse will do when overcome by some terror. but for all this they were as rigid as if they had been carved in stone. and now, what did we see? let me try and tell, so far as my poor words may avail. beneath a spreading tree just a stone's throw to the right of where we stood, and with nothing between to hinder our view of her, a peasant maiden, dressed in the white coif, red skirt, and jacket and kerchief of her class, had been bending over some fine embroidery which she held in her hands. we just caught a glimpse of her thus before the strange thing happened which caused us to stop short, as though some power from without restrained us. hard by, as i know now, stood the village, shut out from view by the trees, with its little church, and the homestead of jacques d'arc nestling almost within its shadow. at the moment of which i speak the bell rang forth for the angelus, with a full, sweet tone of silvery melody; and at the very same instant the work dropped from the girl's hands, and she sank upon her knees. at the first moment, although instinctively, we reined back our horses and uncovered our heads, i had no thought but that she was a devout maiden following the office of the church out here in the wood. but as she turned her upraised face a little towards us, i saw upon it such a look as i have never seen on human countenance before, nor have ever seen (save upon hers) since. a light seemed to shine either from it or upon it--how can i tell which?--a light so pure and heavenly that no words can fully describe it, but which seemed like the radiance of heaven itself. her eyes were raised towards the sky, her lips parted, and through the breathless hush of silence which had fallen upon the wood, we heard the soft, sweet tones of her voice. "speak, my lord--thy servant heareth!" it was then that our horses showed the signs of terror of which i have before spoken. for myself, i saw nothing save the shining face of the maid--i knew who it was--there was no need for bertrand's breathless whisper--"it is she--herself!"--i knew it in my heart before. she knelt there amid the fallen leaves, her face raised, her lips parted, her eyes shining as surely never human eyes have shone before. a deep strange hush had fallen over all nature, broken only by the gentle music of the bell. the ruddy gold light of approaching sunset bathed all the wood in glory, and the rays fell upon the kneeling figure, forming a halo of glory round it. but she did not heed, she did not see. she was as one in a trance, insensible to outward vision. once and again her lips moved, but we heard no word proceed from them, only the rapt look upon her face increased in intensity, and once i thought (for i could not turn my gaze away) that i saw the gleam of tears in her eyes. the bell ceased as we stood thus motionless, and as the last note vibrated through the still air, a change came over the maid. her head drooped, she hid her face in her hands, and thus she knelt as one absorbed in an intensity of prayer. even as this happened, the peculiar glory of the sunlight seemed to change. it shone still, but without such wonderful glow, and our horses at the same time ceased their trembling and their rigid stillness of pose. they shook their heads and jingled their bits, as though striving to throw off some terrifying impression. "let us withdraw from her sight," whispered bertrand touching my arm, and very willingly i acceded to this suggestion, and we silently pressed into the shadow of some great oaks, which stood hard by, the trunks of which hid us well from view. it seemed almost like a species of sacrilege to stand there watching the maid at her prayers, and yet i vow, that until the bell ceased we had no more power to move than our horses. why we were holden by this strange spell i know not. i can only speak the truth. we saw nothing and we heard nothing of any miraculous kind, and yet we were like men in a dream, bound hand and foot by invisible bonds, a witness of something unseen to ourselves, which we saw was visible to another. beneath the deep shadow of the oaks we looked back. the maid had risen to her feet by this, and was stooping to pick up her fallen work. that done, she stood awhile in deep thought, her face turned towards the little church, whence the bell had only just ceased to sound. i saw her clearly then--a maiden slim and tall, so slender that the rather clumsy peasant dress she wore could not give breadth or awkwardness to her lithe figure. the coif had slipped a little out of place, and some tresses of waving hair had escaped from beneath it, tresses that looked dark till the sun touched them, and then glowed like burnished gold. her face was pale, with features in no way marked, but so sweet and serene was the expression of the face, so wonderful was the depth of the great dark eyes, that one was lost in admiration of her beauty, albeit unable to define wherein that beauty lay. when we started forth, i had meant to try and seek speech with this jeanne--this maid of domremy--and to ask her of her mission, and whether she were still believing that she would have power to carry it out; but this purpose now died within me. how could i dare question such a being as to her visions? had i not seen how she was visited by sound or sight not sensible to those around her? had i not in some sort been witness to a miracle? was it for us to approach and ask of her what had been thus revealed? no!--a thousand times no! if the good god had given her a message, she would know when and where to deliver it. she had spoken before of her voices. let them instruct her. let not men seek to interfere. and so we remained where we were, hidden in the deep shadows, whilst jeanne, with bent head and lingering, graceful steps, utterly unconscious of the eyes that watched her, went slowly out of sight along the glade leading towards the village and her home. only when she had disappeared did we venture to move on in her wake, and so passed by the low-browed house, set in its well-tended little garden, where the d'arc family lived. it lay close to the church, and bore a look of pleasant homelike comfort. we saw jeanne bending tenderly over a chair, in which reclined the bent form of a little crippled sister. we even heard the soft, sweet voice of the maid, as she answered some question asked her from within the open door. then she lifted the bent form in her arms, and i did note how strong that slim frame must be, for the burden seemed as nothing to her as she bore it within the house; and then she disappeared from view, and we rode onwards together. "there, my friend," spoke bertrand at last, "i have kept my promise, you have seen the maid." "yes," i answered gravely, "i have seen the maid," and after that we spoke no word for many a mile. chapter iii. how the maid came to vaucouleurs. it may yet be remembered by some how early the snow came that year, to the eastern portion of france at least. i think scarce a week had passed since our journey to domremy, before a wild gale from the northeast brought heavy snow, which lay white upon the ground for many long weeks, and grew deeper and deeper as more fell, till the wolves ravaged right up to the very walls of vaucouleurs, and some of the country villages were quite cut off from intercourse with the world. thus it came about that i was shut up in vaucouleurs with my good comrade and friend bertrand, in the castle of which robert de baudricourt was governor, and for awhile little news reached us from the outside world, though such news as did penetrate to our solitude was all of disaster for the arms of france. we never spoke to de baudricourt of our expedition to domremy, nor told him that we had seen the maid again. yet methinks not a day passed without our thinking of her, recalling something of that wonderful look we had seen upon her face, and asking in our hearts whether indeed she were truly visited by heavenly visions sent by god, and whether she indeed heard voices which could reach no ears but hers. i observed that bertrand was more regular in attendance at the services of the church, and especially at mass, than was usual with young knights in those days, and for my part, i felt a stronger desire after such spiritual aids than i ever remember to have done in my life before. it became a regular thing with us to attend the early mass in the little chapel of the castle; and, instead of growing lax (as i had done before many times in my roving life), as to attending confession and receiving the holy sacrament, i now began to feel the need for both, as though i were preparing me for some great and solemn undertaking. i cannot well express in words the feeling which possessed me--ay, and bertrand too--for we began to speak of the matter one with another--but it seemed to us both as though a high and holy task lay before us, for which we must needs prepare ourselves with fasting and prayer; i wondered if, perhaps, it was thus that knights and men in days of old felt when they had taken the red cross, and had pledged themselves to some crusade in the east. well, thus matters went on, quietly enough outwardly, till the feast of the nativity had come and gone, and with that feast came a wonderful change in the weather. the frost yielded, the south wind blew soft, the snow melted away one scarce knew how, and a breath of spring seemed already in the air, though we did not dare to hope that winter was gone for good and all. it was just when the year had turned that we heard a rumour in the town, and it was in this wise that it reached our ears. de baudricourt had been out with his dogs, chasing away the wolves back into their forest lairs. he had left us some business to attend to for him within the castle, else should we doubtless have been of the party. but he was the most sagacious huntsman of the district, and a rare day's sport they did have, killing more than a score of wolves, to the great joy of the townsfolk and of the country people without the walls. it was dark ere he got home, and he came in covered with mud from head to foot; the dogs, too, were so plastered over, that they had to be given to the servants to clean ere they could take their wonted places beside the fire; and some of the poor beasts had ugly wounds which needed to be washed and dressed. but what struck us most was that de baudricourt, albeit so successful in his hunt, seemed little pleased with his day's work. his face was dark, as though a thunder cloud lay athwart it, and he gave but curt answers to our questions, as he stood steaming before the fire and quaffing a great tankard of spiced wine which was brought to him. then he betook himself to his own chamber to get him dry garments, and when he came down supper was already served. he sat him down at the head of the table, still silent and morose; and though he fell with right good will upon the viands, he scarce opened his lips the while, and we in our turn grew silent, for we feared that he had heard the news of some disaster to the french arms, which he was brooding over in silent gloom. but when the retainers and men-at-arms had disappeared, and we had gathered round the fire at the far end of the hall, as was our wont, then he suddenly began to speak. "went ye into the town today?" he suddenly asked of us. we answered him, nay, that we had been occupied all day within the castle over the services there he had left us to perform. "and have you heard nought of the commotion going on there?" "we have heard nought. pray what hath befallen, good sir? is it some disaster? hath orleans fallen into the hands of the english?" for that was the great fear possessing all loyal minds at this period. "nay, it is nought so bad as that," answered de baudricourt, "and yet it is bad enough, i trow. that mad girl from domremy is now in the town, telling all men that robert de baudricourt hath been appointed of god to send her to the dauphin at chinon, and that she must needs start thither soon, to do the work appointed her of heaven. "dents de dieu!--the folly of it is enough to raise the hair on one's head! send a little paysanne to the king with a wild story like hers! 'tis enough to make the name of de baudricourt the laughingstock of the whole country!" i felt a great throb at heart when i heard these words. then the maid had not forgot! this time of waiting had not bred either indifference or doubt. the time appointed was drawing near, and she had come to vaucouleurs once more, to do that which was required of her! o, was it not wonderful? must not it be of heaven, this thing? and should we seek to put the message aside as a thing of nought? bertrand was already speaking eagerly with his kinsman; but it seemed as though his words did only serve to irritate the governor the more. in my heart i was sure that had he been certain the maid was an impostor, he would have been in no wise troubled or disturbed, but would have contented himself by sharply ordering her to leave the town and return home and trouble him no more. it was because he was torn by doubts as to her mission that he was thus perturbed in spirit. he dared not treat her in this summary fashion, lest haply he should be found to be fighting against god; and yet he found it hard to believe that any deliverance for hapless france could come through the hands of a simple, unlettered peasant girl; and he shrank with a strong man's dislike from making himself in any sort an object of ridicule, or of seeming to give credence to a wild tale of visions and voices, such as the world would laugh to scorn. so he was filled with doubt and perplexity, and this betrayed itself in gloomy looks and in harsh speech. "tush, boy! you are but an idle dreamer. i saw before that you were fooled by a pretty face and a silvery voice. go to!--your words are but phantasy! who believes in miracles now?" "if we believe in the power of the good god, shall we not also believe that he can work even miracles at his holy will?" "poof--miracles!--the dreams of a vain and silly girl!" scoffed de baudricourt, "i am sick of her name already!" then he suddenly turned upon me and spoke. "jean de metz, you are a knight of parts. you have sense and discretion above your years, and are no featherhead like bertrand here. will you undertake a mission from me to this maiden? ask of her the story of her pretended mission. seek to discover from her whether she be speaking truth, or whether she be seeking to deceive. catch her in her speech if it may be. see whether the tale she tells hang together, and then come and report to me. if she be a mad woman, why should i be troubled with her? she cannot go to the dauphin yet, come what may. the melting snows have laid the valleys under water, the roads are impassable; horses would stick fast in the mire, and we are not at the end of winter yet. she must needs wait awhile, whatever her message may be, but i would have you get speech of her, and straightly question her from me. then if it seem well, i can see her again; but if you be willing, you shall do so first." i was more than willing. i was rejoiced to have this occasion for getting speech with the maid. i spoke no word of having had sight of her already, but fell in with de baudricourt's wish that i should go to her as if a mere passing stranger, and only afterwards reveal myself as his emissary. i slept but little all that night, making plans as to all that i should speak when i saw her on the morrow, and, rising early, i betook myself to mass, not to the private chapel of the castle, but to one of the churches in the town, though i could not have said why it was that i was moved to do this. yet as i knelt in my place i knew, for there amongst the worshippers, her face upraised and full of holy joy, her eyes alight with the depth of her devotion, her hands clasped in an ecstasy of prayer, was the maid herself; and i found it hard to turn my eyes from her wonderful face, to think upon the office as it was recited by the priest. i did not seek speech of her then, for she tarried long in the church over her prayers. i felt at last like one espying on another, and so i came away. but after breakfast, as the sun shone forth and began to light up the narrow streets of the little town, i sallied forth again alone, and asked of the first citizen i met where could be found the dwelling place of one jeanne d'arc, from domremy, who was paying a visit to the town. i had scarce need to say so much as this. it seemed that all the people in the town had heard of the arrival of the maid. i know not whether they believed in her mission, or whether they scoffed at it; but at least it was the talk of the place how she had come before, and fearlessly faced the governor and his council, and had made her great demand from him, and how she had come once again, now that the year was born and lent approaching, in the which she had said she must seek and find the dauphin. thus the man was able at once to give me the information i asked, and told me that the girl was lodging with henri leroyer the saddler, and catherine his wife, naming the street where they dwelt, but adding that i should have no trouble in finding the house, for the people flocked to it to get a sight of the maid, and to ask her questions concerning her mission hither, and what she thought she was about to accomplish. and truly i did find that this honest citizen had spoken the truth, for as i turned into the narrow street where leroyer lived, i saw quite a concourse of people gathered about the house, and though they made way for me to approach, knowing that i was from the castle, i saw that they were very eager to get sight or speech of the maid, who was standing at the open door of the shop, and speaking in an earnest fashion to those nearest her. i made as though i were a passing stranger, who had just heard somewhat of her matter from the bystanders, and i addressed her in friendly fashion, rather as one who laughs. "what are you doing here, ma mie? and what is this i hear? is it not written in the book of fate that the king or dauphin of france must be overcome of england's king, and that we must all become english, or else be driven into the sea, or banished from the realm?" then for the first time her wonderful eyes fastened themselves on my face, and i felt as though my very soul were being read. "nay, sire," she answered, and there was something so flute-like and penetrating in her tones that they seemed to sink into my very soul, "but the lord of heaven himself is about to fight for france, and he has sent me to the governor here, who will direct me to the dauphin, who knows nothing of me as yet. but i am to bring him help, and that by mid-lent. so i pray you, gentle knight, go tell robert de baudricourt that he must needs bestir himself in this business, for my voices tell me that the hour is at hand when, come what may, i must to chinon, even though i wear my legs to the knees in going thither." "why should i tell this to the seigneur de baudricourt?" i asked, marvelling at her words and the fashion of her speech. "because he has sent you to me," she answered, her eyes still on my face, "and i thank him for having chosen so gracious a messenger; for you have a good heart, and you are no mocker of the things my lord has revealed to me; and you will be one of those to do his will, and to bring me safely to the dauphin." half confounded by her words i asked: "who is your lord?" "it is god," she answered, and bent her head in lowly reverence. and then i did a strange thing; but it seemed to be forced upon me from above by a power which i could not withstand. i fell suddenly to my knees before her, and put up my clasped hands, as we do when we pay homage for our lands and honours to our liege lord. and, i speak truth, and nought else, the maid put her hands over mine just as our lord or sovereign should do, and though i dare swear she had never heard my name before, she said: "jean de novelpont de metz, my lord receives you as his faithful knight and servant. he will be with us now and to the end." and the people all uncovered and stood bareheaded round us, whilst i felt as though i had received a mandate from heaven. then i went into the house with jeanne, and asked her of herself, and of her visions and voices. she told me of them with the gentle frankness of a child, but with a reverence and humility that was beautiful to see, and which was in strange contrast to some of the things she spoke, wherein she told how that she herself was to be used of heaven for the salvation of france. i cannot give her words as she spoke them, sitting there in the window, the light upon her face, her eyes fixed more often upon the sunny sky than upon her interlocutor, though now and again she swept me with one of her wonderful glances. she told me how from a child she had heard voices, which she knew to be from above, speaking to her, bidding her to be good, to go to the church, to attend to her simple duties at home. but as she grew older there came a change. she remembered the day when first she saw a wonderful white light hovering above her; and this light came again, and yet again; and the third time she saw in it the figure of an angel--more than that--of the archangel michael himself--the warrior of heaven; and from him she first received the message that she was to be used for the deliverance of her people. she was long in understanding what this meant. st. michael told her she should receive other angelic visitors, and often after this st. catherine and st. margaret appeared to her, and told her what was required of her, and what she must do. at first she was greatly affrighted, and wept, and besought them to find some other for the task, since she was but a humble country maid, and knew nothing of the art of warfare, and shuddered at the sight of blood. but they told her to be brave, to trust in the lord, to think only of him and of his holy will towards her. and so, by degrees, she lost all her fears, knowing that it was not of herself she would do this thing, and that her angels would be with her, her saints would watch over her, and her voices direct her in all that she should speak or do. "and now," she added, clasping her hands, and looking full into my face, "now do they tell me that the time is at hand. since last ascensiontide they have bid me wait in quietness for the appointed hour; but of late my voices have spoken words which may not be set aside. i must be sent to the dauphin. orleans must be saved from the hosts of the english which encompass it. i am appointed for this task, and i shall accomplish it by the grace of my lord and his holy saints. then the crown must be set upon the head of the dauphin, and he must be anointed as the king. after that my task will be done; but not till then. and now i must needs set forth upon the appointed way. to the dauphin i must go, to speak to him of things i may tell to none other; and the sieur robert de baudricourt is appointed of heaven to send me to chinon. wherefore, i pray you, gentle knight, bid him no longer delay; for i am straitened in spirit till i may be about my lord's business, and he would not have me tarry longer." i talked with her long and earnestly. not that i doubted her. i could not do so. although no voices came to me, yet my heart was penetrated by a conviction so deep and poignant that to doubt would have been impossible. france had been sold and betrayed by one bad woman; but here was the maid who should arise to save! i knew it in my heart; yet i still spoke on and asked questions, for i must needs satisfy de baudricourt, i must needs be able to answer all that he would certainly ask. "how old are you, fair maiden?" i asked, as at length i rose to depart, and she stood, tall and slim, before me, straight as a young poplar, graceful, despite her coarse raiment, her feet and hands well fashioned, her limbs shapely and supple. "i was seventeen last week," she answered simply, "the fifth of january is my jour de fete." "and your parents, what think they of this? what said they when you bid them farewell for such an errand?" the tears gathered slowly in her beautiful eyes; but they did not fall. she answered in a low voice: "in sooth they know not for what i did leave them. they believed i went but to visit a sick friend. i did not dare to tell them all, lest my father should hold me back: he is very slow to believe my mission; he chides me bitterly if ever word be spoken anent it. is it not always so when the lord uses one of his children? even our lord's brethren and sisters believed not on him. how can the servant be greater than his lord?" "you fear not, then, to disobey your parents?" i had need to put this question; for it was one that de baudricourt had insisted upon; for he knew something of jacques d'arc's opposition to his daughter's proposed campaign. "i must obey my lord even above my earthly parents," was her steadfast reply; "his word must stand the first. he knows all, and he will pardon. he knows that i love my father and my mother, and that if i only pleased myself i should never leave their side." then suddenly as she spoke a strange look of awe fell upon her; i think she had forgotten my presence, for when she spoke, her words were so low that i could scarce hear them. "i go to my death!" she whispered, the colour ebbing from her face, "but i am in the hands of my lord; his will alone can be done." i went out from her presence with bent head. what did those last words signify--when hitherto all she had spoken was of deliverance, of victory? she spoke them without knowing it. of that i was assured; and therefore i vowed to keep them locked in my heart. but i knew that i should never forget them. i found robert de baudricourt awaiting my coming in the great hall, pacing restlessly to and fro. bertrand was with him, and i saw by the tense expression upon his face that he was eager for my report. i gave him one quick glance upon entering, which i trow he read and understood; but to de baudricourt i spoke with caution and with measured words, for he was a man whose scorn and ridicule were easily aroused, and i knew that bertrand had fallen into a kind of contempt with him, in that he had so quickly believed in the mission of the maid. "well, and what make you of the girl? is she witch, or mad, or possessed by some spirit of vainglory and ambition? what has she said to you, and what think you of her?" "in all truth, my lord, i believe her to be honest; and more than this, i believe her to be directed of god. strange as it may seem, yet such things have been before, and who are we to say that god's arm is shortened, or that he is not the same as in the days of old? i have closely questioned the maid as to her visions and voices, and i cannot believe them delusions of the senses. you may ask, are they of the devil? then would i say, if there be doubt, let the abbe perigord approach her with holy water, with exorcisms, or with such sacred words and signs as devils must needs flee before. then if it be established that the thing is not of the evil one, we may the better regard it as from the lord of whom she speaks. at least, if she can stand this test, i would do this much for her--give her a small escort to chinon, with a letter to the dauphin. after that your responsibility will cease. the matter will be in the hands of the king and his advisers." "ay, after i have made myself the laughingstock of the realm!" burst out de baudricourt grimly; yet after he had questioned me again, and yet again, and had even held one interview himself with the maid, who came of her own accord to the castle to ask for him one day, he seemed to come to some decision, after much thought and wavering. bringing out one of his rattling oaths, he cried: "then if she can bear the touch of holy water, and the sign of book and taper and bell--and i know not what beside--then shall she be sent to the king at chinon, and i, robert de baudricourt, will send her--come what may of the mission!" chapter iv. how the maid was tried and tested. i had myself proposed the test, and yet when the moment came i was ashamed of myself. the abbe had put on his robes and his stole; a vessel containing holy water stood before him on the table; the book of the blessed gospels was in his hands, a boy with a taper stood at his side. the place was the hall of the castle, and the governor with a few of those most in his confidence stood by to see what would follow. i was at his right hand. bertrand brought in the maid. i know not what he had said to her, or whether he had prepared her for what was about to take place; but however that may have been, her face wore that calm and lofty serenity of expression which seemed to belong to her. as she approached she made a lowly reverence to the priest, and stood before him where bertrand placed her, looking at him with earnest, shining eyes. "my daughter," spoke the abbe gravely, "have you security in your heart that the visions and voices sent to you come of good and not of evil? many men and women have, ere this, been deceived--yea, even the holy saints themselves have been tempted of the devil, that old serpent, who is the great deceiver of the hearts and spirits of men. are you well assured in your heart that you are not thus deceived and led away by whispers and suggestions from the father of lies?" there was no anger in her face, but a beautiful look of reverent, yet joyful, confidence and peace. "i am well assured, my father, that it is my lord who speaks to me through his most holy and blessed saints, and through the ever-glorious archangel michael." "and yet, my daughter, you know that it is written in the holy scriptures that the devil can transform himself into an angel of light." "truly that is so, my father; but is it not also written that those who put their trust in the lord shall never be confounded?" "yes, my daughter; and i pray god you may not be confounded. but it is my duty to try and test the spirits, so as to be a rock of defence to those beneath my care. yet if things be with you as you say, you will have no fear." "i have no fear, my father," she answered, and stood with folded hands and serene and smiling face whilst he went through those forms of exorcism and adjuration which, it is said, no evil spirit can endure without crying aloud, or causing that the person possessed should roll and grovel in agony upon the ground, or rush frantically forth out of sight and hearing. but the maid never moved, save to bend her head in reverence as the thrice holy name was proclaimed, and as the drops of holy water fell upon her brow. to me it seemed almost like sacrilege, in face of that pure and holy calm, to entertain for one moment a doubt of the origin of her mission. yet it may be that the test was a wise one; for de baudricourt and those about him watched it with close and breathless wonder, and one and another whispered behind his hand: "of a surety she is no witch. she could never stand thus if there was aught of evil in her. truly she is a marvellous maid. if this thing be of the lord, let us not fight against him." the trial was over. the maid received the blessing of the abbe, who, if not convinced of the sacredness of her mission, was yet impotent to prove aught against her. it is strange to me, looking back at those days, how far less ready of heart the ecclesiastics were to receive her testimony and recognise in her the messenger of the most high than were the soldiers, whether the generals whom she afterwards came to know, or the men who crowded to fight beneath her banner. one would have thought that to priests and clergy a greater grace and power of understanding would have been vouchsafed; but so far from this, they always held her in doubt and suspicion, and were her secret foes from first to last. i made it my task to see her safely home; and as we went, i asked: "was it an offence to you, fair maid, that he should thus seek to test and try you?" "not an offence to me, seigneur," she answered gently, "but he should not have had need to do it. for he did hear my confession on friday. therefore he should have known better. it is no offence to me, save inasmuch as it doth seem a slighting of my lord." the people flocked around her as she passed through the streets. it was wonderful how the common townsfolk believed in her. already she was spoken of as a deliverer and a saviour of her country. nay, more, her gentleness and sweetness so won upon the hearts of those who came in contact with her, that mothers prayed of her to come and visit their sick children, or to speak words of comfort to those in pain and suffering; and such was the comfort and strength she brought with her, that there were whispers of miraculous cures being performed by her. in truth, i have no knowledge myself of any miracle performed by her, and the maid denied that she possessed such gifts of healing. but that she brought comfort and joy and peace with her i can well believe, and she had some skill with the sick whom she tended in her own village, so that it is likely that some may have begun to mend from the time she began to visit them. as for de baudricourt, his mind was made up. there was something about this girl which was past his understanding. just at present it was not possible to send her to the king, for the rains, sometimes mingled with blinding snow storms, were almost incessant, the country lay partially under water, and though such a journey might be possible to a seasoned soldier, he declared it would be rank murder to send a young girl, who, perchance, had never mounted a horse before, all that great distance. she must needs wait till the waters had somewhat subsided, and till the cold had abated, and the days were somewhat longer. the maid heard these words with grave regret, and even disapproval. "my lord would take care of me. i have no fear," she said; but de baudricourt, although he now faithfully promised to send her to chinon, would not be moved from his resolution to wait. for my part, i have always suspected that he sent a private messenger to chinon to ask advice what he should do, and desired to await his return ere acting. but of that i cannot speak certainly, since he never admitted it himself. if the delay fretted the maid's spirit, she never spoke with anger or impatience; much of her time was spent in a little chapel in the crypt of the church at vaucouleurs, where stood an image of our lady, before which she would kneel sometimes for hours together in rapt devotion. i myself went thither sometimes to pray; and often have i seen her there, so absorbed in her devotions that she knew nothing of who came or went. by this time bertrand and i had steadfastly resolved to accompany the maid not only to chinon, but upon whatsoever campaign her voices should afterwards send her. although we were knights, we neither of us possessed great wealth; indeed, we had only small estates, and these were much diminished in value from the wasting war and misfortunes of the country. still we resolved to muster each a few men-at-arms, and form for her a small train; for de baudricourt, albeit willing to send her with a small escort to chinon, had neither the wish nor the power to equip any sort of force to accompany her, though there would be no small danger on the journey, both from the proximity of the english in some parts, and the greater danger from roving bands of burgundians, whose sole object was spoil and plunder, and their pastime the slaughter of all who opposed them. and now we began to ask one another in what guise the maid should travel; for it was obvious that her cumbrous peasant garb was little suited for the work she had in hand, and we made many fanciful plans of robing her after the fashion of some old-time queen, such as boadicea or semiramis, and wondered whether we could afford to purchase some rich clothing and a noble charger, and so convey her to the king in something of regal state and pomp. but when, one day, we spoke something of this to the maid herself, she shook her head with a smile, and said: "gentle knights, i give you humble and hearty thanks; but such rich robes and gay trappings are not for me. my voices have bidden me what to do. i am to assume the dress of a boy, since i must needs live for a while amongst soldiers and men. i am sent to do a man's work, therefore in the garb of a man must i set forth. our good citizens of vaucouleurs are already busy with the dress i must shortly assume. there is none other in which my work can be so well accomplished." and in truth we saw at once the sense of her words. she had before her a toilsome journey in the companionship of men. she must needs ride, since there was no other way of travelling possible; and why should the frailest and tenderest of the party be burdened by a dress that would incommode her at every turn? and when upon the very next day she appeared in the castle yard in the hose and doublet and breeches of a boy, and asked of us to give her her first lesson in horsemanship, all our doubts and misgivings fled away. she wore her dress with such grace, such ease, such simplicity, that it seemed at once the right and fitting thing; and not one of the soldiers in the courtyard who watched her feats that day, passed so much as a rude jest upon her, far less offered her any insult. in truth, they were speedily falling beneath the spell which she was soon to exercise upon a whole army, and it is no marvel to me that this was so; for every day i felt the charm of her presence deepening its hold upon my heart. never have i witnessed such quickness of mastery as the maid showed, both in her acquirement of horsemanship and in the use of arms, in both of which arts we instructed her day by day. i had noted her strength and suppleness of limb the very first day i had seen her; and she gave marvellous proof of it now. she possessed also that power over her horse which she exercised over men, and each charger that she rode in turn answered almost at once to her voice and hand, with a docility he never showed to other riders. yet she never smote or spurred them; the sound of her voice, or the light pressure of knee or hand was enough. she had never any fear from the first, and was never unhorsed. very soon she acquired such skill and ease that we had no fears for her with regard to the journey she soon must take. although filling the time up thus usefully, her heart was ever set upon her plan, and daily she would wistfully ask: "may we not yet sally forth to the dauphin?" still she bore the delay well, never losing opportunities for learning such things as might be useful to her; and towards the end of the month there came a peremptory summons to her from the duke of lorraine, who was lying very ill at nancy. "they tell me," he wrote to de baudricourt, "that you have at vaucouleurs a woman who may be in sooth that maid of lorraine who, it has been prophesied, is to arise and save france. i have a great curiosity to see her; wherefore, i pray you, send her to me without delay. it may be that she will recover me of my sickness. in any case, i would fain have speech of her; so do not fail to send her forthwith." de baudricourt had no desire to offend his powerful neighbour, and he forthwith went down to the house of leroyer, taking bertrand and me with him, to ask of the maid whether she would go to see the duke at his court, since the journey thither was but short, and would be a fitting preparation for the longer one. we found her sitting in the saddler's shop, with one of his children on her lap, watching whilst he fashioned for her a saddle, which the citizens of vaucouleurs were to give her. bertrand and i were to present the horse she was to ride, and i had also sent to my home for a certain holiday suit and light armour made for a brother of mine who had died young. i had noted that the maid had just such a slim, tall figure as he, and was certain that this suit, laid away by our mother in a cedar chest, would fit her as though made for her. but it had not come yet, and she was habited in the tunic and hose she now wore at all times. her beautiful hair still hung in heavy masses round her shoulders, giving to her something of the look of a saintly warrior on painted window. later on, when she had to wear a headpiece, she cut off her long curling locks, and then her hair just framed her face like a nimbus; but today it was still hanging loose upon her shoulders, and the laughing child had got his little hands well twisted in the waving mass, upon which the midday sun was shining clear and strong. she had risen, and was looking earnestly at de baudricourt; yet all the while she seemed to be, as it were, listening for other sounds than those of his voice. when he ceased she was silent for a brief while, and then spoke. "i would fain it had been to the dauphin you would send me, seigneur; but since that may not be yet, i will gladly go to the duke, if i may but turn aside to make my pilgrimage to the shrine of st nicholas, where i would say some prayers, and ask help." "visit as many shrines as you like, so as you visit the duke as well," answered de baudricourt, who always spoke with a sort of rough bluffness to the maid, not unkindly, though it lacked gentleness. but she never evinced fear of him, and for that he respected her. she showed plenty of good sense whilst the details of the journey were being arranged, and was in no wise abashed at the prospect of appearing at a court. how should she be, indeed, who was looking forward with impatience to her appearance at the court of an uncrowned king? bertrand and i, with some half-dozen men-at-arms, were to form her escort, and upon the very next day, the sun shining bright, and the wind blowing fresh from the north over the wet lands, drying them somewhat after the long rains, we set forth. the maid rode the horse which afterwards was to carry her so many long, weary miles. he was a tall chestnut, deep in the chest, strong in the flank, with a proudly arching neck, a great mane of flowing hair, a haughty fashion of lifting his shapely feet, and an eye that could be either mild or fierce, according to the fashion in which he was treated. on his brow was a curious mark, something like a cross in shape, and the colour of it was something deeper than the chestnut of his coat. the maid marked this sign at the first glance, and she called the horse her crusader. methinks she was cheered and pleased by the red cross she thus carried before her, and she and her good steed formed one of those friendships which are good to see betwixt man and beast. our journey was not adventurous; nor will i waste time in telling overmuch about it. we visited the shrine, where the maid passed a night in fasting and vigil, and laid thereon a little simple offering, such as her humble state permitted. the next day she was presented to the duke of lorraine, as he lay wrapped in costly silken coverlets upon his great bed in one of the most sumptuous apartments of his castle. he gazed long and earnestly at the maid, who stood beside him, flinching neither from his hollow gaze, nor from the more open curiosity or admiration bestowed upon her by the lords and ladies assembled out of desire to see her. i doubt me if she gave them a thought. she had come to see the sick duke, and her thoughts were for him alone. there was something very strange and beautiful in her aspect as she stood there. her face was pale from her vigil and fast; her hair hung round it in a dark waving mass, that lighted up at the edges with gold where the light touched it. her simple boy's dress was splashed and travel stained; but her wonderful serene composure was as marked here as it had been throughout. no fears or tremors shook her, nor did any sort of consciousness of self or of the strangeness of her position come to mar the gentle dignity of her mien or the calm loveliness of her face. the duke raised himself on his elbow the better to look at her. "is this true what i have heard of you, that you are the maid of lorraine, raised up, according to the word of the wizard merlin, to save france in the hour of her extremity?" "i am come to save france from the english," she answered at once; "to drive them from the city of orleans, to bring the dauphin to rheims, and there see the crown set upon his head. this i know, for my lord has said it. who i am matters nothing, save only as i accomplish the purpose for which i am sent." her sweet ringing voice sounded like a silver trumpet through the room, and the lords and ladies pressed nearer to hear and see. "in sooth, the maid herself--the maid who comes to save france!" such was the whisper which went round; and i marvelled not; for the look upon that face, the glorious shining in those eyes, was enough to convince the most sceptical that the beatific vision had indeed been vouchsafed to them. the duke fell back on his pillows, regarding her attentively. "if then, maiden, you can thus read the future, tell me, shall i recover me of this sickness?" he gasped. "of that, sire, i have no knowledge," she answered. "that lies with god alone; but if you would be his servant, flee from the wrath to come, which your sins have drawn upon you. turn to the lord in penitence. do his will. be reconciled to your wife; for such is the commandment of god. perchance then you will find healing for body and soul. but seek not that which is hidden. do only the will of the lord, and trust all to him." she was hustled from the room by the frightened attendants, who feared for her very life at the hands of their irate lord. he had done many a man to death for less than such counsel. but the maid felt not fear. "he cannot touch me," she said, "i have my lord's work yet to accomplish." and in truth the duke wished her no ill, though he asked not to see her more. perhaps--who knows--these words may have aroused in him some gleams of penitence for his past life. i have heard he made a better end than was expected of him when his time came. and before the maid left the castle he sent her a present of money, and said he might even send his son to help the dauphin, if once orleans were relieved, and her words began to fulfil themselves. so then we journeyed home again, and we reached vaucouleurs on the afternoon of the twelfth day of february. the maid had been smiling and happy up till that time, and, since the weather was improving, we had great hopes of soon starting forth upon the journey for chinon. nevertheless, the streams were still much swollen, and in some places the ground was so soft that it quaked beneath our horses' feet. we travelled without misadventure, however, and i wondered what it was that brought the cloud to the brow of the maid as we drew nearer and nearer to vaucouleurs. but i was to know ere long; for as we rode into the courtyard of the castle the maid slipped from her horse ere any could help her, and went straight into the room where the governor was sitting, with her fearless air of mastery. "my lord of baudricourt, you do great ill to your master the dauphin in thus keeping me from him in the time of his great need. today a battle has been fought hard by the city of orleans, and the arms of the french have suffered disaster and disgrace. if this go on, the hearts of the soldiers will be as water, the purpose of the lord will be hindered, and you, seigneur, will be the cause, in that you have not hearkened unto me, nor believed that i am sent of him." "how know you the thing of which you speak, girl?" asked de baudricourt, startled at the firmness of her speech. "my voices have told me," she answered; "voices that cannot lie. the french have met with disaster. the english have triumphed, and i still waste my time in idleness here! how long is this to continue, robert de baudricourt?" a new note had come into her voice--the note of the general who commands. we heard it often enough later; but this was the first time i had noted it. how would de baudricourt take it? "girl," he said, "i will send forth a courier at once to ride with all speed to the westward. if this thing be so, he will quickly meet some messenger with the news. if it be as you have said, if this battle has been fought and lost, then will i send you forth without a day's delay to join the king at chinon." "so be it," answered the maid; and turned herself to the chapel, where she spent the night in prayer. it was bertrand who rode forth in search of tidings, his heart burning within him. it was he who nine days later entered vaucouleurs again, weary and jaded, but with a great triumph light in his eyes. he stood before de baudricourt and spoke. "it is even as the maid hath said. upon the very day when we returned to vaucouleurs, the english--a small handful of men--overthrew at rouvray a large squadron of the french, utterly routing and well-nigh destroying them. the english were but a small party, convoying herrings to the besiegers of orleans. the ground was strewn with herrings after the fight, which men call the battle of the herrings. consternation reigns in the hearts of the french--an army flies before a handful! the maid spake truly; the need is desperate. if help reach not the dauphin soon, all will be lost!" "then let the maid go!" thundered the old man, roused at last like an angry lion; "and may the god she trusts in guard and keep her, and give to her the victory!" chapter v. how the maid journeyed to chinon. so the thing had come to pass at last--as she had always said it must. robert de baudricourt was about to send her to the court of the dauphin at chinon. the weary days of waiting were at an end. she was to start forthwith; she and her escort were alike ready, willing, and eager. her strange mystic faith and lofty courage seemed to have spread through the ranks of the chosen few who were to attend her. i trow, had she asked it, half the men of vaucouleurs would have gladly followed in her train; for the whole town was moved to its core by the presence of the maid in its midst. almost were the townsfolk ready to worship her, only that there was something in her own simplicity and earnest piety which forbade such demonstration. all knew that the maid herself would be first to rebuke any person offering to her homage other than true man can and ought to offer to true woman. and now let me speak here, once and for all, of the love and reverence and devotion which the maid had power to kindle in the hearts of those with whom she came in contact. i can indeed speak of this, for i am proud to this day to call myself her true knight. from the first i felt towards her as i have felt to none since--not even to the wife of my manhood's tried affections. it was such a love as may be inspired by some almost angelic, presence--there was no passion in it. i believe i speak truly when i say that not one of the maid's true followers and knights and comrades-in-arms, ever thought of her as possible wife--ever even dreamed of her as lover. she moved amongst us as a being from another sphere. she inspired us with a courage, a power, and a confidence in her and in our cause, which nothing could shake or daunt. she was like a star, set in the firmament of heaven. our eyes, our hearts turned towards her, but she was never as one of us. still less was she as other women are, fashioned for soft flatteries, ready to be wooed and won. ah, no! with the maid it was far otherwise. truly do i think that of herself she had no thought, save as she was the instrument appointed of her lord to do the appointed work. to that task her whole soul was bent. it filled her to the full with an ecstasy of devotion which required no words in which to express itself. and i can faithfully say that it was not the beauty of her face, the sweetness of her ringing voice, nor the grace and strength of her supple form which made of men her willing followers and servants. no, it was a power stronger and more sacred than any such carnal admiration. it came from the conviction, which none could fail to reach, that this maid was indeed chosen and set apart of heaven for a great and mighty work, and that in obeying her, one was obeying the will of god, and working out some purpose determined in the counsels of the heavenlies. with her man's garb and light armour, the maid had assumed an air of unconscious command which sat with curious graceful dignity upon the serene calm of her ordinary demeanour. towards her followers of the humbler sort she ever showed herself full of consideration and kindliness. she felt for their fatigues or privations in marching, was tenderly solicitous later on for the wounded. above all, she was insistent that the dying should receive the consolations of religion, and it was a terrible thought to her that either friend or foe should perish unshriven and unassoiled. her last act at vaucouleurs, ere we started off in the early dawn of a late february day, was to attend mass with all her following. an hour later, after a hasty meal provided by de baudricourt, we were all in the saddle, equipped and eager for the start. the maid sat her chestnut charger as to the manner born. the pawings of the impatient animal caused her no anxiety. she was looking with a keen eye over her little band of followers, taking in, as a practised leader of men might do, their equipment and general readiness for the road. she pointed out to me several small defects which required adjusting and rectifying. already she seemed to have assumed without effort, and as a matter of course, the position of leader and general. there was no abatement of her gentle sweetness of voice or aspect, but the air of command combined with it as though it came direct and without effort as a gift from heaven. none resented it; all submitted to it, and submitted with a sense of lofty joy and satisfaction which i have never experienced since, and which is beyond my power to describe. there was one change in the outward aspect of the maid, for her beautiful hair had been cut off, and now her head was crowned only by its cluster of short curling locks, upon which today she wore a cloth cap, though soon she was to adopt the headpiece which belonged to the light armour provided. she had been pleased by the dress of white and blue cut-cloth which i had humbly offered her, and right well did it become her. the other suit provided by the townsfolk was carried by one of the squires, that she might have change of garment if (as was but too probable) we should encounter drenching rains or blustering snow storms. so far she had no sword of her own, nor had she spoken of the need of such a weapon for herself. but as we assembled in the courtyard of the castle, getting ourselves into the order of the march, de baudricourt himself appeared upon the steps leading into the building, bearing in his hands a sword in a velvet scabbard, which he gravely presented to the maid. "a soldier, lady, has need of a weapon," were his words, as he placed it in her hands; "take this sword, then. i trow it will do you faithful service; and may the lord in whom you trust lead you to victory, and save this distracted realm of france from the perils which threaten to overwhelm her!" "i thank you, seigneur de baudricourt," she answered, as she took the weapon, and permitted me to sling it for her in the belt for the purpose which she already wore, "i will keep your gift, and remember your good words, and how that you have been chosen of heaven to send me forth thus, and have done the bidding of the lord, as i knew that so true a man must needs do at the appointed time. for the rest, have no fear. the lord will accomplish that which he has promised. before the season now beginning so tardily has reached its height, the dauphin will be the anointed king of france, the english will have suffered defeat and orleans will be free!" "heaven send you speak sooth, fair maid," answered the rugged old soldier, as he eyed the slim figure before him with something of mingled doubt, wonder, and reverence in his eyes. then as though some strange impulse possessed him, he took her hand and kissed it, and bending the knee before her, said: "give me, i pray you, a blessing, ere you depart!" a wonderful light sprang into her eyes. she laid her hand upon the grizzled head, and lifted her own face, as was her wont, to the sunny sky. "the blessing of the king of heaven be upon you, robert de baudricourt, in that you have been an instrument chosen of him. the grace and love of our blessed lady be yours, in that you have shown kindness and favour to a simple maid of the people, set apart by heaven for a certain task. the favour and protection of the saints be yours, in that you have believed the words of one who spake of them, and have been obedient to the command sent to you from them!" she ceased speaking; but still continued to gaze upward with rapt and earnest eyes. every head was bared, and we all gazed upon her, as upon one who looks through the open gate of heaven, and to whom is vouchsafed a glimpse of the beatific vision. then clear and sweet her voice rose once more. her face was transfigured; a great light seemed to shine either upon or from it, no man could say which. "o lord god, father of the heavenlies, o sweet jesu, saviour of mankind, o blessed mother, queen of heaven, o holy michael, archangel of the shining sword, o blessed saints--catherine and margaret, beloved of heaven--give to these, your children, your blessing, your help, your protection, your counsel! be with us in our journeyings--in our uprising and down lying, in our going out and coming in--in all we put our hands unto! be with us and uphold us, and bring us in safety to our journey's end; for we go forth in the strength which is from above, and which can never fail us till the work appointed be accomplished!" then we rode forth, out of the courtyard, and into the streets of the town, which were thronged and lined with townsfolk, and with people from the surrounding villages, who had crowded in to see the wonderful maid, and witness the outgoing of the little band which was to accompany her to chinon. two of the maid's brothers had sought to be of her train, and one went with us upon that day. the second she sent back with a letter (written at her dictation by my fingers, for she herself knew not letters, though of so quick an understanding in other matters) to her parents, praying earnestly for their forgiveness for what must seem to them like disobedience, and imploring their blessing. and this letter she dispatched by jean, permitting pierre to accompany us on the march. her mother and two younger brothers, at least, believed in her mission by this time; but her father was doubtful and displeased, fearful for her safety, and suspicious of her credentials; and the eldest son remained of necessity at home to help his father, and whether or no he believed in his sister's call, i have never truly heard. but i know it pleased her that pierre should be in her escort, though she was careful not to show him any marked favour above others; and as in days to come she was more and more thrown with the great ones of the land, she of necessity was much parted from him, though the bond of sisterly love was never slackened; and both pierre, and afterwards jean, followed her through all the earlier parts of her victorious career. leaving vaucouleurs, we had need to march with circumspection, for the country was in no settled state, and it was probable that rumours of our march might have got abroad, and that roving bands of english or burgundian soldiers might be on the look out for us; for already it was being noised abroad that a miraculous maid had appeared to the aid of france, and though, no doubt, men jeered, and professed incredulity, still it was likely that she would be regarded in the light of a valuable prize if she could be carried off, and taken either to duke philip or to the regent bedford in paris. we had with us a king's archer from chinon, who had been sent with news of the disaster at rouvray. he was to conduct us back to chinon by the best and safest routes. but he told us that the country was beset by roving bands of hostile soldiers, that his comrades had been slain, and that he himself only escaped as by a miracle; and his advice was urgent that after the first day we should travel by night, and lie in hiding during the hours of daylight--a piece of advice which we were fain to follow, being no strong force, able to fight our way through a disturbed country, and being very solicitous for the safety of the precious maid who was at once our chiefest hope and chiefest care. this, then, we did, after that first day's travel in the bright springtide sunshine. we were attended for many a mile by a following of mounted men from the district round, and when, as the sun began to wester in the sky, they took their leave of us, the maid thanked them with gracious words for their company and good wishes, though she would not suffer them to kiss her hand or pay her homage; and after that they had departed, we did halt for many hours, eating and resting ourselves; for we meant to march again when the moon was up, and not lose a single night, so eager was the maid to press on towards chinon. of our journey i will not speak too particularly. ofttimes we were in peril from the close proximity of armed bands, as we lay in woods and thickets by day, avoiding towns and villages, lest we should draw too much notice upon ourselves. ofttimes we suffered from cold, from hunger, from drenching rains and bitter winds. once our way was barred by snow drifts, and often the swollen rivers and streams forced us to wander for miles seeking a ford that was practicable. but whatever were the hardships encountered, no word of murmuring ever escaped the lips of the maid; rather her courage and sweet serenity upheld us all, and her example of patience and unselfishness inspired even the roughest of the men-at-arms with a desire to emulate it. never, methinks, on such a toilsome march was so little grumbling, so little discouragement, and, above all, so little swearing. and this, in particular, was the doing of the maid. for habit is strong with us all, and when things went amiss the oath would rise to the lips of the men about her, and be uttered without a thought. but that was a thing she could not bear. her sweet pained face would be turned upon the speaker. her clear, ringing tones would ask the question: "shall we, who go forward in the name of the lord, dare to take his holy name lightly upon our lips? what are his own words? swear not at all. shall we not seek to obey him? are we not vowed to his service? and must not the soldier be obedient above all others? shall we mock him by calling ourselves his followers, and yet doing that without a thought which he hath forbidden?" not once nor twice, but many times the maid had to speak such words as these; but she never feared to speak them, and her courage and her purity of heart and life threw its spell over the rough men she had led, and they became docile in her hands like children, ready to worship the very ground she trod on. long afterwards it was told me by one of mine own men-at-arms that there had been a regular plot amongst the rougher of the soldiers at the outset to do her a mischief, and to sell her into the hands of the burgundians or the english. but even before leaving vaucouleurs the men had wavered, half ashamed of their own doubts and thoughts, and before we had proceeded two days' journey forward, all, to a man, would have laid down their lives in her service. the only matter that troubled the maid was that we were unable to hear mass, as she longed to do daily. the risk of showing ourselves in town or village was too great. but there came a night, when, as we journeyed, we approached the town of fierbois, a place very well known to me; and when we halted in a wood with the first light of day, and the wearied soldiers made themselves beds amid the dried fern and fallen leaves, i approached the maid, who was gazing wistfully towards the tapering spire of a church, visible at some distance away, and i said to her: "gentle maid, yonder is the church of sainte catherine at fierbois, and there will be, without doubt, early mass celebrated within its walls. if you will trust yourself with bertrand and myself, i trow we could safely convey you thither, and bring you back again, ere the day be so far advanced that the world will be astir to wonder at us." her face brightened as though a sunbeam had touched it. she needed not to reply in words. a few minutes later, and we were walking together through the wood, and had quickly reached the church, where the chiming of the bell told us that we should not be disappointed of our hope. we knelt at the back of the church, and there were few worshippers there that morning. i could not but watch the face of the maid, and suddenly i felt a curious thrill run through me, as though i had been touched by an unseen hand. i looked at her, and upon her face had come a look which told me that she was listening to some voice unheard by me. she clasped her hands, her eyes travelled toward the altar, and remained fixed upon it, as though she saw a vision. her lips moved, and i thought i heard the murmured words: "blessed sainte catherine, i hear. i will remember. when the time comes i shall know what to do." when the priest had finished his office we slipped out before any one else moved, and reached the shelter of the woods again without encountering any other person. i almost hoped that the maid would speak to us of what had been revealed to her in that church, but she kept the matter in her own heart. yet, methinks, she pondered it long and earnestly; for although she laid her down as if to sleep, her eyes were generally wide open, looking upwards through the leafless budding boughs of the trees as though they beheld things not of this earth. it was upon this day that i wrote, at the maid's request, a letter to the uncrowned king at chinon, asking of him an audience on behalf of jeanne d'arc, the maiden from domremy, of whom he had probably heard. this letter i dispatched to sir guy de laval, asking him to deliver it to the king with his own hands, and to bring us an answer ere we reached chinon, which we hoped now to do in a short while. the missive was carried by the king's archer, who knew his road right well, and was acquainted with the person of sir guy. he was to ride forward in all haste, whilst we were to follow in slower and more cautious fashion. i think it was about the fifth day of march when the great towers of chinon first broke upon our gaze. we had been travelling all the night, and it was just as the dawn was breaking that we espied the huge round turrets rising, as it were, from amid the mists which clung about the river and its banks. there we halted, for no message had yet come from the king; but upon the maid's face was a look of awe and radiant joy as she stood a little apart, gazing upon the goal of her toilsome journey. no fear beset her as to her reception, just as no fears had troubled her with regard to perils by the way. "god clears the road for me," she said, when news had been brought from time to time of bands of soldiers whom we had narrowly escaped; and now, as she looked upon the towers of chinon, growing more and more distinct as the daylight strengthened, her face wore a smile of serene confidence in which natural fear and shrinking had no part. "the dauphin will receive me. fear nothing. the work which is begun will go forward to its completion. god hath spoken in his power. he hath spoken, and his word cannot fail." so after we had fed she lay down, wrapped in a cloak, and fell asleep like a child; whilst i rode forward a little way along the plain, for i had seen a handful of horsemen sallying forth, as it seemed from the castle, and i hoped that it was sir guy bearing letter or message from the king. nor was i mistaken in this hope. soon i was certain of my man, and sir guy in turn recognising me, spurred forward in advance of his followers, and we met alone in the plain, bertrand, my companion, being with me. "so there really is to be a miracle worked, and by a maid!" cried sir guy, as we rode with him towards our camp; "mort de dieu--but it is passing strange! all the court is in a fever of wonder about this angelic maid, as some call her; whilst others vow she is either impostor or witch. is it the same, bertrand, of whom you did speak upon the day we parted company?" "the same; and yet in one way not the same, for since then she hath grown apace in power and wonder, so that all who see her marvel at her, and some be ready to worship her. but we will say no more. you shall see for yourself, and the king also shall see, if he refuse not to receive one who comes to him as the messenger of god." "i am sent to conduct the maid presently to the castle," answered sir guy. "there is now great desire to see her and hear her, and to try and test the truth of her mission. the generals scoff aloud at the thought of going to battle with a maid for leader. the churchmen look grave, and talk of witchcraft and delusion. the ladies of the court are in a fever to see her. as for the king and his ministers, they are divided in mind 'twixt hope and fear; but truly matters are come to such desperate pass with us that, if some help come not quickly, the king will flee him away from his distracted realm, and leave the english and burgundians to ravage and subdue at will!" "god forbid!" said i, and crossed myself. scarce had i spoken the words before i saw approaching us on her chestnut charger the maid herself, who rode forward to meet us at a foot's pace, and reined back a few yards from us, her eyes fixed full upon the face of sir guy, who uncovered, i scarce know why, for how should he know that this youthful soldier was indeed the maid herself? "you come from the dauphin," she said; "go tell him that the darkest hour but heralds the dawn. he must not flee away. he must stay to face his foes. i will lead his armies to victory, and he shall yet be crowned king of france. let him never speak more of deserting his realm. that shall not--that must not be!" sir guy was off his horse by now; he bent his knee to the maid. "i will tell the king that the deliverer hath truly come," he said; and taking her hand, ere she could prevent it, he reverently kissed it. chapter vi. how the maid came to the king. so guy de laval had fallen beneath the spell of the maid, even as we had done. he spoke of it to me afterwards. it was not because of her words, albeit she had plainly shown knowledge of that which he had been saying before her approach. it was not the beauty of her serene face, or the dignity of her mien. it was as though some power outside of himself urged him to some act of submission. an overshadowing presence seemed to rest upon him as with the touch of a hand, and he who had laughed at the idea of the restoration of miracles suddenly felt all his doubts and misgivings fall away. we rode together back to our camp, and there we talked long and earnestly of many things. the maid had much to ask of sir guy, but her questions were not such as one would have guessed. she never inquired how the dauphin (as she always called him) had first heard of her, how he regarded her, what his ministers and the court thought of her mission, whether they would receive her in good part, what treatment she might expect when she should appear at chinon. no; such thoughts as these seemed never to enter her head. she was in no wise troubled as to the things which appertained to herself. not once did a natural curiosity on this ground suggest such inquiries; and though we, her followers, would fain have asked many of these questions, something in her own absence of interest, her own earnestness as to other matters, restrained us from putting them. it was of the city of orleans she desired to know. what was the condition of the garrison? what were the armies of england doing? what was the disposition of the beleaguering force? was any project of relief on foot amongst the dauphin's soldiers? did they understand how much depended upon the rescue of the devoted town? guy de laval was able to answer these questions, for he had himself ridden from chinon to orleans with messages to the generals in the beleaguered city. he reported that the blockade was not perfected; that provisions could still find their way--though with risk, and danger of loss--into the town, and that messengers with letters could pass to and fro by exercising great caution, and by the grace of heaven. he told her of the great fortresses the english had built, where they dwelt in safety, and menaced the town and battered its walls with their engines of war. the garrison and the city were yet holding bravely out, and the generals dunois and la hire were men of courage and capacity. but when the maid asked how it came about that the english--who could not be so numerous as the french forces in the town--had been suffered to make these great works unmolested, he could only reply with a shake of the head, and with words of evil omen. "it is the terror of the english which has fallen upon them. since the victory of agincourt, none have ever been able to see english soldiers drawn up in battle array without feeling their blood turn to water, and their knees quake under them. i know not what the power is; but at rouvray it was shown forth again. a small force of soldiers--but a convoy with provisions for the english lines--overcame and chased to destruction a french army ten times its own strength. it is as though the english had woven some spell about us. we cannot face them--to our shame be it spoken! the glorious days of old are past. if heaven come not to our aid, the cause of france is lost!" "heaven has come to the aid of france," spoke the maid, with that calm certainty which never deserted her; "have no fear, gentle knight. let the dauphin but send me to orleans, and the english will speedily be chased away." "it will need a great army to achieve that, fair maid," spoke sir guy; "and alas, the king has but a small force at his disposal, and the men are faint hearted and fearful." "it is no matter," answered the maid, with shining eyes; "is it anything to my lord whether he overcomes by many or by few? is his arm shortened at all, that he should not fulfil that which he has promised? france shall see ere long that the lord of hosts fights for her. will not that be enough?" "i trow it will," answered de laval, baring his head. it was not until the evening was drawing on that we entered the fortress of chinon, where the king held his court. a very splendid castle it was, and when, later in my life, i once visited the realm of england, and looked upon the castle of windsor there, it did bring back greatly to my mind that castle of chinon, with its towers and battlements overhanging, as it were, the river, and the town clustered at its foot. we had delayed our approach that our wearied and way-worn men might rest and give a little care to their clothes and arms, so that we presented not too travel-stained and forlorn an appearance. we desired to do honour to the maid we escorted, and to assume an air of martial pomp, so far as it was possible to us. sir guy had ridden on in front to announce our coming. he told me that the king was full of curiosity about the maid, and that the ladies of the court were consumed with wonder and amaze; but that the prime minister, de la tremouille, was strenuously set against having aught to do with that "dreamer of dreams," as he slightingly called her, whilst the king's confessor was much of the same mind, in spite of what was reported about her from the priests who had seen and examined her. there was no mistaking the sensation which our approach occasioned when at last we reached the walls of the castle. soldiers and townspeople, gentlemen and servants, were assembled at every coign of vantage to watch us ride in; and every eye was fixed upon the maid, who rode as one in a dream, her face slightly raised, her eyes shining with the great joy of an object at last achieved, and who seemed unconscious of the scrutiny to which she was subjected, and unaware of the excitement which her presence occasioned. for the most part deep silence reigned as we passed by. no acclamation of welcome greeted us, nor did any murmurs of distrust smite upon our ears. there was whispering and a rustling of garments, and the clank of arms; but no articulate words, either friendly or hostile, till, as we passed the drawbridge, one of the sentries, a great, brawny fellow, half french half scottish, uttered an insult to the maid, accompanying his words by a horrible blasphemy. my hand was upon my sword hilt. i could have slain the man where he stood; but i felt the maid's touch on my shoulder, and my hand sank to my side. she paused before the sentry, gazing at him with earnest eyes, full of mournful reproach and sorrow. "o lord jesu, forgive him!" she breathed softly, and as the fellow, half ashamed, but truculent still, and defiant, turned upon her as though he would have repeated either his insult or his blasphemy, she held up her hand and spoke aloud, so that all who stood by might hear her words: "o, my friend, speak not so rashly, but seek to make your peace with god. know you not how near you stand to death this night? may god pardon and receive your soul!" the man shrank back as one affrighted. it was scarce two hours later that as he was crossing a narrow bridge-like parapet, leading from one part of the castle to another, he fell into the swollen and rapid stream beneath, and was heard of no more. some called it witchcraft, and said that the maid had overlooked him; but the more part regarded it as a sign that she could read the future, and that things unknown to others were open to her eyes; and this, indeed, none could doubt who were with her at this time, as i shall presently show. i had expected that sir guy would come to lead us into the chamber of audience, where we were told the king would receive us. but he did not come, and we were handed on from corridor to corridor, from room to room, first by one richly-apparelled servant of the court, then by another. our men-at-arms, of course, had been detained in one of the courtyards, where their lodgings were provided. only bertrand and i were suffered, by virtue of our knighthood, to accompany the maid into the presence of royalty; and neither of us had ever seen the king, or knew what his outward man was like. but she asked no questions of us as to that, nor how she was to comport herself when she reached the audience chamber. neither had she desired to change her travel-stained suit for any other, though, in truth, there was little to choose betwixt them now; only methinks most in her case would have provided some sort of gay raiment wherewith to appear before the king. but the maid thought nought of herself, but all of her mission, and she held that this was a matter which could be touched by no outward adorning or bravery of apparel. none who passed through the galleries and corridors of the castle of chinon in these days would have guessed to what a desperate pass the young king's affairs had come. music and laughter resounded there. courtiers fluttered about in gorgeous array, and fine ladies like painted butterflies bore them company. feasting and revelry swallowed up the days and nights. no clang of arms disturbed the gaieties of the careless young monarch. if despair and desperation were in his heart, he pushed them back with a strong hand. he desired only to live in the present. he would not look beyond. so long as he could keep his court about him, he would live after this fashion; and when the english had swept away the last barriers, and were at the very gates, then he would decide whether to surrender himself upon terms, or to fly to some foreign land. but to face the foe in gallant fight was an alternative which had never been entertained by him, until such time as he had received the message from the maid; and then it was rather with wonder and curiosity than any belief in her mission that he had consented to receive her. a pair of great double doors was flung open before us. we stood upon the threshold of a vast room, lighted by some fifty torches, and by the blaze of a gigantic fire which roared halfway up the vast chimney. this great audience chamber seemed full of dazzling jewels and gorgeous raiment. one could scarce see the faces and figures in the shifting throng for the wonder of this blaze of colour. but there was no dais on which the king was seated in state, as i had expected. no figure stood out conspicuous in the throng as that of royalty. i gazed at one and another, as we stood in the doorway, our eyes still half dazzled by the glare of light and by the brilliance of the assembled company, but i could by no means distinguish the king from any of the rest. many men, by their gorgeous raiment, might well be the greatest one present; but how to tell? all were quiet now. they had fallen a little back, as though to gaze upon the newcomer. smiling faces were turned upon us. eager eyes were fastened upon the maid's face. she stood there, with the glare of the torches shining over her, looking upon the scene with her calm, direct gaze, without tremor of fear or thought of shame. one of the great seigneurs--i know not which--came forward with a smile and a bow, and gave her his hand to lead her forward. "i will present you to the king," he said; and made in a certain direction, as though he would lead her to a very kingly-looking personage in white and crimson velvet, blazing with diamonds; but ere he had taken many steps, the maid drew her hand from his, and turning herself in a different direction, went forward without the least wavering, and knelt down before a young man in whose attire there was nothing in any way gorgeous or notable. "gentle dauphin," she said, in that clear voice of hers which always made itself heard above other sounds, though at this moment a great hush prevailed throughout the audience chamber, and wondering eyes were fixed full upon the maid, "god give you good life, and victory over your enemies!" astonishment was in the young man's face; but he took the maid by the hand, and said: "you mistake, fair damsel; it is not i that am the king. see, he is there; let me take you to him." but she would not be raised; she knelt still at his feet, and the hand which he had given her she held to her lips. "gentle dauphin, think not to deceive me. i know you, who you are. you are he to whom i am sent, to win you the victory first, and then to place the crown of france upon your head. it is you, and none other, who shall rule in france!" the young man's face had changed greatly now. a deep agitation replaced the former smile of mockery and amusement. several of the courtiers were exchanging meaning glances; in the hush of the hall every spoken word could be heard. "child, how dost thou know me?" asked the king, and his voice shook with emotion. her answer was not strange to us, though it might have been so to others. "i am jeanne the maid," she replied, as if in so saying she was saying enough to explain all; "i am sent to you by the king of heaven; and it is his word that i have spoken. you shall be crowned and consecrated at rheims, and shall be lieutenant of the king of heaven, who is king of france, but who wills that you shall reign over that fair realm!" "have you a message from him to me?" asked the king, speaking like a man in a dream. "ay, verily i have," answered the maid, "a message which none but you must hear; for it is to you alone that i may tell it." then the king took her by the hand, and raised her up, gazing at her with a great wonder and curiosity; and he led her behind a curtain into a deep recess of the window, where prying eyes could not see them, nor inquisitive ears overhear her words. and so soon as they had disappeared there, a great hum and buzz of wonder ran throughout the hall, and we saw sir guy detach himself from a knot of gay courtiers, and come hastily towards us. "is it not wonderful!" he cried. "and i had feared that she would be deceived, and that the mockers would have the laugh against her in the first moment. though how they looked for her to have knowledge of the king's person i know not. surely none can doubt but that she is taught by the spirit of god." "it was done to prove her!" "ay, it was the thought of de la tremouille, who has ridiculed her pretensions (the word is his) from first to last. but it was a thought welcomed by all, as a passing merry jest. thus was it that i was not permitted to come and lead you in. they did fear lest i should tell what was intended, and describe to the maid the person or the dress of the king. and now none can doubt; and, in sooth, it may be a wondrous thing for his majesty himself, and take from him for ever that hateful fear which i always do declare has helped to paralyse him, and hold him back from action." i lowered my voice to a whisper as i said: "you mean the fear lest he was not the true son of the king?" "yes; his wicked mother hinted away her own honour in her desire to rob him of his crown. he has known her for an evil woman. was it not likely he would fear she might speak truth? those who know him best know that he has often doubted his right to style himself dauphin or king; but methinks after today that doubt must needs be set at rest. if the maid who comes from the king of heaven puts that name upon him, need he fear to take it for his own?" as we were thus speaking the sieur de boisi joined us. he was perchance more fully in the king's confidence than any other person at court, and he was kinsman to de laval, with whom he had plainly already had much talk upon this subject. he drew us aside, and whispered a story in our ears. "his majesty did tell it me himself," he said, "for there be nights when he cannot sleep, and he calls me from my couch at his bed's foot, and makes me lie beside him, that we may talk at ease; and he told me, not long since, how that this trouble and doubt were so growing upon him, that once he had fasted for a whole day, and had passed the night upon his knees in the oratory, praying for a sign whereby he might truly know whether he were the real heir, and the kingdom justly his. for that were it not so, he would sooner escape to spain or scotland to pass his days in peace; but that if the lord would send him a sign, then he would seek to do his duty by the realm." with awe we looked into each other's faces. "the sign has come!" whispered bertrand. "truly i do think it," answered de boisi. "surely his majesty will recognise it as such!" said sir guy. "i see not how it can be otherwise; and it will be like a great load lifted from his heart." "and he will surely hesitate no more," i said, "but will forthwith give her a band of armed men, that she may sally forth to the aid of the beleaguered orleans!" but de boisi and de laval looked doubtful. "i know not how that will be. for there are many who will even now seek to dissuade the king, and will talk of witchcraft, and i know not what beside. the abbes and the bishops and the priests are alike distrustful and hostile. the generals of the army openly scoff and jeer. some say that if the maid be sent to orleans, both la hire and dunois will forthwith retire, and refuse all further office there. what can a peasant maid know of the art of war? they ask, and how can she command troops and lead them on to victory, where veterans have failed again and again? and then the king knows not what to reply--" "but she hath given him wherewith to reply!" broke out bertrand, with indignation in his tones. "she comes not in her own strength, but as the envoy of the king of heaven. is that not enough?" "enough for us who have seen and heard her," answered sir guy; "but will it prove enough for those who only hear of her from others, and who call her a witch, and say that she works by evil spells, and has been sent of the devil for our deception and destruction and undoing?" "then let them send for one of the generals from orleans, and let him judge for himself!" cried bertrand hotly; "you say the city is not so closely blockaded but that with care and caution men may get in or out? then let some one send and fetch one of these commanders; and if he be not convinced when he sees her, then he will be of very different stuff from all else who have doubted, but whose doubts have been dispelled." "in faith, that is no bad thought," spoke de boisi thoughtfully, "and i trow it might be possible of accomplishment. i will certainly speak with the king of it. he is young; he is not firm of purpose; his own heart has never before been set upon his kingdom. one cannot expect a man's nature to change in a day, even though his eyes may have been opened, and his misgivings set at rest. if one of the generals were won to her side, the troubles that beset us would be well-nigh overcome." a great clamour of sound from the larger audience chamber, from which we had retired to talk at ease, warned us now that the king and the maid had appeared from their private conference. his face was very grave, and there was more of earnestness and nobility in his expression than i had thought that countenance capable of expressing. the maid was pale, as though with deep emotion; but a glorious light shone in her eyes, and when the court ladies and gallants crowded round her, asking her questions, and gazing upon her as though she were a being from another sphere, she seemed lifted up above them into another region, and though she answered them without fear, she put aside, in some wonderful way, all those questions which were intrusions into holy things, speaking so fearlessly and so simply that all were amazed at her. she came to us at last, weary, yet glad at heart; and her first question was for her followers, and whether they had been lodged and fed. we supped with her at her request, and in private, and her face was very calm and glad, though she spoke nothing of what had passed between her and the king. only when bertrand said: "you have done a great work today," did she look at him with a smile as she replied: "my work hath but just begun, and may yet be hindered; but have no fear. the lord has spoken, and he will bring it to pass. he will not fail us till all be accomplished." chapter vii. how the maid was hindered; yet made preparation. i have no patience to write of the things which followed. i blush for the king, for his council, yea, even for the church itself! here was a messenger sent from god, sent to france in the hour of her direst need. this messenger had been tried and tested by a score of different methods already, and had in every case come forth from the trial like gold submitted to the fire. priests had examined and found nothing evil in her. again and again had she spoken of that which must follow--and so it had been. if her voices were not from god, then must they be from the devil; yet it had been proved again, and yet again, that this was impossible, since she feared nought that was holy or good, but clave unto such, and was never so joyful and glad at heart as when she was able to receive the holy sacrament, or kneel before the altar of god whilst mass was being said. she had proved her claim to be called god's messenger. she had justified herself as such in the eyes of the king and in the judgment of the two queens and of half the court. and yet, forsooth, he must waver and doubt, and let himself be led by the counsels of those who had ever set themselves against the maid and her mission; and to the shame of the church be it spoken, the archbishop of rheims was one of those who most zealously sought to persuade him of the folly of entrusting great matters to the hands of a simple peasant girl, and warned the whole court of the perils of witchcraft and sorcery which were like to be the undoing of all who meddled therein. i could have wrung the neck of the wily old fox, whom i did more blame than i did his friend and advocate, de la tremouille; for the latter only professed carnal wisdom and prudence, but the archbishop spoke as one who has a mandate from god, and he at least should have known better. and so they must needs send her to poictiers, to a gathering of ecclesiastics, assembled by her enemy, the archbishop himself, to examine into her claims to be that which she professed, and also into her past life, and what it had been. i scarce have patience to write of all the wearisome weeks which were wasted thus, whilst this assembly sat; and the maid--all alone in her innocence, her purity, her sweetness, and gentle reverence--stood before them, day after day, to answer subtle questions, face a casuistry which sought to entrap her into contradiction or confusion, or to wring from her a confession that she was no heaven-sent messenger, but was led away by her own imaginations and ambitions. it was an ordeal which made even her devoutest adherents tremble; for we knew the astuteness of the churchmen, and how that they would seek to win admissions which they would pervert to their own uses afterwards. yet we need not have feared; for the maid's simplicity and perfectly fearless faith in her mission carried her triumphant through all; or perhaps, indeed, her voices whispered to her what answers she should make, for some of them were remembered long, and evoked great wonder in the hearts of those who heard them. one dominican monk sought to perplex her by asking why, since god had willed that france should be delivered through her, she had need of armed men? full fearlessly and sweetly she looked at him as she made answer: "it is my lord's will that i ask for soldiers, and that the dauphin shall give me them. the men shall fight; it is god who gives the victory." another rough questioner amongst her judges sought to confuse her by asking what language her voices spoke. they say that a flash flew from her eyes, though her sweet voice was as gentle as ever as she made answer: "a better language than yours, my father." and again, when the same man sought to know more of her faith and her love of god, having shown himself very sceptical of her voices and visions, she answered him, with grave dignity and an earnest, steadfast gaze: "i trow i have a better faith than yours, my father." and so, through all, her courage never failed, her faith never faltered, her hope shone undimmed. "they must give me that which i ask; they cannot withstand god. they cannot hurt me. for this work was i born, and until it be accomplished i am safe. i have no fear." only once did she show anger, and then it was with a quiet dignity of displeasure, far removed from petulance or impatience. they asked of her a sign that she was what she professed to be. "i have not come to poictiers to give a sign," she answered, holding her head high, and looking fearlessly into the faces of those who sat to judge her. "send me to orleans, with as small a band as you will. but send me there, and you shall see signs and to spare that i come in the power of the king of heaven." and so in the end her faith and courage triumphed. the verdict ran somewhat thus: "we have found in her nothing but what is good. to deny or hinder her intentions to serve the king would be to show ourselves unworthy of the assistance of god." yes, they had to come to it; and i trust that there were many sitting there whose hearts smote them for ever having doubted, or sought to baffle or entrap her. i cannot tell how far the judges were moved by the growing feeling in the town and throughout the district. but the people crowded to see the maid pass by, and all were ready to fall at her feet and worship her. in the evenings they visited her at the house of jean ratabeau, the advocate general, whose wife formed for her (as did every good and true woman with whom she came into contact during her life) an ardent admiration and affection. and to their earnest questions she gave ready answer, sitting in the midst of an eager crowd, and telling them in her sweet and simple way the story of her life in domremy, and how she had first heard these voices from heaven, or seen wondrous visions of unspeakable glories; and how she had learnt, by slow degrees, that which her lord had for her to do, and had lost, by little and little, the fear which first possessed her, till now she knew not of the name of the word. she had but to follow where her voices guided. and the people believed in her, heart and soul. her fame spread far and wide, and had she lifted but a finger, she might have been at the head of an armed band of citizens and soldiers, yea, and many gentlemen and knights as well, all vowed to live and die in her service. but this was not what was her destiny. "i thank you, my friends," she would say, if such a step were proposed by any ardent soul, impatient of this long delay; "but thus it may not be. my lord has decreed that the dauphin shall send me forth at the head of his armies, and with a troop of his soldiers; and he will do this ere long. be not afraid. we must needs have patience, as did our lord himself, and be obedient, as he was. for only as we look to him for grace and guidance can we hope to do his perfect will." thus spoke the maid, who, being without letters, and knowing, as she said, no prayers save the pater noster, ave maria, and credo, yet could speak in such fashion to those who sought her. was it wonder that the people believed in her? that they would have been ready to tear in pieces any who durst contemn her mission, or declare her possessed of evil spirits? yet i will not say that it was fear which possessed the hearts of her judges, and decided their ruling in this matter. i trow they could not look upon her, or hear her, without conviction of heart. nevertheless it is possible that the respect for popular enthusiasm led them to speak in such high praise of the maid, and to add that she was in the right in assuming the dress which she wore. for she had been sent to do man's work, and for this a man's garb was the only fitting one to wear. and this ruling was heard with great acclamation of satisfaction; for her dress had been almost more commented upon than any other matter by some, and that the church had set its sanction upon that which common sense deemed most right and fitting, robbed the most doubtful of all scruple, and gave to the maid herself no small pleasure. "i do in this, as in all other things, that which i have been bidden," she said. "but i would not willingly act unseemly in the eyes of good men and virtuous women; wherefore i am glad that my judges have spoken thus, and i thank them from my heart for their gentle treatment of me." it was ever thus with the maid. no anger or impatience overset her sweet serenity and humility. she would not let herself take offence, or resent these ordeals to which, time after time, she was subjected. nay, it was she who defended the proceedings when we attacked them, saying that it behoved men to act with care and caution in these great matters, and that her only trouble in the delay was the sufferings and sorrows of the poor beleaguered garrison and citizens in orleans, to whose help and relief she longed to fly. so certain was she that before long she would be upon her way, that at poictiers she composed that letter to the english king, his regent, and his generals which has been so much talked of since. it was a truly wonderful document to be penned by a village maiden; for in it she adjured them to cease from warring with the rightful king of france, whom god would have to rule the realm for him, to go back to their own country, leaving peace behind them instead of war, and imploring them then to join with the king of france in a crusade against the saracens. she speaks of herself as one who has power to drive them from the kingdom if they will not go in peace as adjured. calling herself throughout "the maid," she tells them plainly that they will not be able to stand against her; that she will come against them in the power of the king of heaven, who will give to her more strength than ever can be brought against her; and in particular she begs of them to retire from the city of orleans; else, if they do not, they shall come to great misfortune there. this letter took some time in the composition, and was written for her by sir guy de laval, though we were all in her counsel as she dictated it. by this i do not mean that we advised her. on the contrary, we gazed at her amazed, knowing how fruitless such an injunction must be to the haughty victorious nation, who had us, so to speak, in the dust at her feet. but the maid saw with other eyes than ours. "it may be that there will be some holy man of god in their camp to whom my lord will reveal his will, as he hath done to me, and will show the things which must come to pass. i would so willingly spare all the bloodshed and misery which war will bring. it is so terrible a thing for christian men to war one with another!" so this letter, with its superscription "jhesus maria," was written and dispatched to the english, and the maid turned her attention to other matters near her heart, such as the design and execution of those banners which were to be carried before her armies in battle, and lead them on to victory. and these same words, "jhesus maria," she decreed should appear upon each of the three standards, in token that she went not forth in her own strength, nor even in that of the king of france; but in the power which was from above, and in the strength given by those who sent her. now there came to poictiers to see the maid at this time many persons from other places, and amongst these was a scotchman called hauves polnoir, who brought with him his daughter, a fair girl, between whom and the maid a great love speedily sprang up. these polnoirs were the most skilful workers in embroideries and such like of all the country round, and to them was entrusted the making of the three banners, according to the instructions of the maid. there was first the great white silken standard, with the golden fleur-de-lys of france, and a representation on the reverse of the almighty god between two adoring angels; then a smaller banner, with a device representing the annunciation, which she always gave to one of her immediate attendants or squires to carry into battle; and for herself she had a little triangular banneret of white, with an image of the crucified christ upon it, and this she carried herself, and it was destined to be the rallying point of innumerable engagements, for the sight of that little fluttering pennon showed the soldiers where the maid was leading them, and though this was in the thickest and sorest of the strife, they would press towards it with shouts of joy and triumph, knowing that, where the maid led, there victory was won. all these matters were arranged whilst we were kept in waiting at poictiers; and the polnoirs returned to tours to execute the orders there in their own workshop. the maid promised to visit them on her way from chinon to orleans, and so bid them a kindly farewell. perhaps i may here add that when the dauphin, upon his coronation, insisted upon presenting the maid with a sum of money, the use she made of it, after offering at various shrines, was to provide a marriage dowry for janet polnoir. never did she think of herself; never did she desire this world's goods. this was shown very plainly upon her triumphant return to chinon, with the blessing and sanction of the church upon her mission, with the enthusiasm of the people growing and increasing every day, and her fame flying throughout the length and breadth of the realm. by this time the king and all his court knew that a deliverer had been raised up in our midst, and instead of lowly lodgings being allotted to the maid and her train, the whole tower of coudray was set apart for the use of herself and her suite. the custodian de belier and his wife had charge of her, and to her were now appointed a staff, of which the brave jean d'aulon was the chief, and to which bertrand and sir guy de laval and myself belonged, together with many more knights and gentlemen, all anxious to do service under her banner. also she had in her train some persons of lowlier degree, such as her brothers, for whom she always had tender care, and who believed devoutly in her mission, although they saw of necessity less and less of one another as the maid's mission progressed, and took her into a different world. but all this grandeur was no delight to her, save inasmuch as it showed that at last her mission was recognised and honoured. when asked what she would have for herself in the matter of dress and armour, her answer was that she had already all she required, although she only possessed at this time one suit more than she had started forth with from vaucouleurs. although she saw the courtiers fluttering about like butterflies, and noted how men, as well as women, decked themselves in choice stuffs and flashing jewels, she asked none of these things for herself; and when the queen of sicily, always her best and kindest friend, sent to her some clothing of her own designing--all white, and beautifully worked, some with silver, and some with gold thread and cord, and a mantle of white velvet, lined with cloth of silver--she looked at the beautiful garments with something between a smile and a sigh; then turning towards the great lady who stood by to watch her, she first kissed her hand, and then, with a sudden impulse of affection, put her arms about her neck, and was drawn into a close embrace. "are you not pleased with them, my child?" spoke queen yolande gently; "they would have decked you in all the colours of the rainbow, and made you to blaze with jewels; but i would not have it the virgin maid, i told them, should be clad all in white, and my word prevailed, and thus you see your snowy raiment. i had thought you would be pleased with it, ma mie." "madame, it is beautiful; i have never dreamed of such. it is too fine, too costly for such as i. i am but a peasant maid--" "you are the chosen of the king of heaven, my child. you must think also of that. you are now the leader of the king's armies. you have to do honour alike to a heavenly and an earthly monarch; and shall we let our champion go forth without such raiment as is fitting to her mission?" then the maid bent her head, and answered with sweet gladness: "if it is thus that the world regards me, i will wear these trappings with a glad and thankful heart; for in sooth i would seek to do honour to his majesty. as for my lord in the heavens, i trow that he doth look beneath such matters of gay adornment; yet even so, i would have his mission honoured in the sight of all men, and his messenger fitly arrayed." so the maid put on her spotless apparel, and looked more than ever like a youthful warrior, going forth with stainless shield, in the quest of chivalrous adventure. the whole court was entranced by her beauty, her lofty dignity, her strange air of aloofness from the world, which made her move amongst them as a thing apart, and seemed to set a seal upon her every word and act. when she spoke of the coming strife, and her plans for the relief of the beleaguered city, her eyes would shine, a ringing note of authority would be heard in her voice, she would fearlessly enter into debate with the king and his ministers, and tell them that which she was resolved to do, whether they counselled it or no. at such moments she appeared gifted with a power impossible rightly to describe. without setting herself up in haughtiness, she yet overbore all opposition by her serene composure and calm serenity in the result. men of war said that she spoke like a soldier and a strategist; they listened to her in amaze, and wondered what the great la hire would say when he should arrive, to find that a country maiden had been set over his head. in other matters, too, the maid knew her mind, and spoke it with calm decision. the queen of sicily had not been content with ordering the maid's dress alone, she had also given orders to the first armourer in tours to fashion her a suit of light armour for the coming strife. this armour was of white metal, and richly inlaid with silver, so that when the sun glinted upon it, it shone with a dazzling white radiance, almost blinding to behold. the king, also, resolved to do his share, had ordered for her a light sword, with a blade of toledo steel; but though the maid gratefully accepted the gift of the white armour, and appeared before all the court attired therein, and with her headpiece, with its floating white plumes crowning it all, yet, as she made her reverence before the king, she gently put aside his gift of the sword. "gentle dauphin," she said, "i thank you from my heart; but for me there is another sword which i must needs carry with me into battle; and i pray you give me leave to send and fetch it from where it lies unknown and forgotten." "why, maiden, of what speak you?" he answered; "is not this jewelled weapon good enough? you will find its temper of the best. i know not where you will find a better!" "no better a sword, sire," she answered; "and yet the one which i must use; for so it hath been told me of my lord. in the church of fierbois, six leagues from hence, beneath the high altar, there lies a sword, and this sword must i use. suffer me, i pray you, to send and fetch it thence. then shall i be ready and equipped to sally forth against the foes of my country." "but who has told you of this sword, my maiden?" "my lord did tell me of it, as i knelt before the altar, ere i came to chinon. it is in the church of st. catherine; and suffer only my good knight, jean de metz, to go and make search for it, and he will surely bring it hither to me." now i did well remember how, as we knelt in the church at fierbois in the dimness of the early morn, the maid had received some message, unheard by those beside her; and gladly did i set forth upon mine errand to seek and bring to her this sword. when i reached fierbois, which was in the forenoon of the day following, the good priests of the church knew nothing of any such sword; but the fame of the maid having reached their ears, they were proud and glad that their church of st. catherine should be honoured thus, and calling together some workmen, they made careful search, and sure enough, before we had dug deep, the spade struck and clinked against metal, and forth from beneath the altar we drew a sword, once a strong and well-tempered weapon, doubtless, but now covered with rust, so that the good priests looked askance at it, and begged to have it to cleanse and polish. it was then too late for my return the same day, so i left it to them, and lodged me in the town, where all the people flocked to hear news of the maid and of the coming campaign. then in the morning, with the first of the light, the sword was brought to me; and surely many persons in fierbois must have sat up all the night, for every speck of rust had been cleansed away, and a velvet scabbard made or found for the weapon, which the priests begged of me to take with it to the maid as their gift, and with their benediction upon it and her. my return was awaited with some stir of interest, and before i had well dismounted i was hurried, all travel stained as i was, into the presence of the king. there was the maid waiting also, calm and serene, and when she saw the thing which i carried in my hands, her face lighted; she took several steps forward, and bent her knee as she reverently took the sword, as though she received it from some higher power. "it was even as she said?" questioned the king, quickly. "even so, sire; the sword of which no man knew aught, was lying buried beneath the high altar of st. catherine's church, in fierbois." a murmur of surprise and gratification ran through the assembly. but there was no surprise upon the maid's face. "did you doubt, sire?" she asked, and he could not meet the glance of her clear eyes. chapter viii. how the maid marched for orleans. methinks the maid loved that ancient sword better than all her shining armour of silver! strange to say, the jewelled sheath of the king's toledo blade fitted the weapon from fierbois, and he supplemented the priests' gift of a scabbard by this second rich one. the maid accepted it with graceful thanks; yet both the gorgeous cases were laid away, and a simple sheath of leather made; for the sword was to be carried at her side into battle, and neither white nor crimson velvet was suited to such a purpose. nor would the maid let us have her sword sharpened for her. a curious look came upon her face as bertrand pointed out that although now clean and shining, its edges were too blunt for real use. she looked round upon us as we stood before her, and passed her fingers lovingly down the edges of the weapon. "i will keep it as it is," she answered; "for though i must needs carry it into battle with me, i pray my lord that it may never be my duty to shed christian blood. and if the english king will but listen to the words of counsel which i have sent to him, perchance it may even now be that bloodshed will be spared." in sooth, i believe that she would far rather have seen the enemy disperse of their own accord, than win the honour and glory of the campaign, which she knew beforehand would bring to her renown, the like of which no woman in the world's history has ever won. she would have gone back gladly, i truly believe, to her home in domremy, and uttered no plaint, even though men ceased after the event to give her the praise and glory; for herself she never desired such. but we, who knew the temper of the english, were well aware that this would never be. even though they might by this time have heard somewhat of the strange thing which had happened, and how the french were rallying round the standard of the angelic maid, yet would they not readily believe that their crushed and beaten foes would have power to stand against them. more ready would they be to scoff than to fear. now, at last, after all these many hindrances and delays, all was in readiness for the start. april had well nigh run its course, and nature was looking her gayest and loveliest when the day came that we marched forth out of the castle of chinon, a gallant little army, with the maid in her shining white armour and her fluttering white pennon at our head, and took the road to tours, where the great and redoubtable la hire was to meet us, and where we were to find a great band of recruits and soldiers, all eager now to be led against the foe. much did we wonder how the generals of the french army would receive the maid, set, in a sense, over them as commander-in-chief of this expedition, with a mandate from the king that she was to be obeyed, and that her counsels and directions were to be followed. we heard conflicting rumours on this score. there were those who declared that so desperate was the condition of the city, and so disheartened the garrison and citizens that they welcomed with joy the thought of this deliverer, and believed already that she was sent of god for their succour and salvation. others, on the contrary, averred that the officers of the army laughed to scorn the thought of being aided or led by a woman--a peasant--une peronelle de bas lieu, as they scornfully called her--and that they would never permit themselves to be led or guided by one who could have no knowledge of war, even though she might be able to read the secrets of the future. in spite of what had been now ruled by the church concerning her, there were always those, both in the french and english camps, who called her a witch; and we, who heard so many flying rumours, wondered greatly what view the redoubtable la hire took of this matter, and dunois, the bastard of orleans, as he was often called. for these two men, with xaintrailles, were the ruling generals in orleans, and their voice would be paramount with the army there, and would carry much weight with those reinforcements for the relieving force which we were to find awaiting us at tours and at blois. now la hire, as all men know, was a man of great renown, and of immense personal weight and influence. he was a giant in stature, with a voice like a trumpet, and thews of steel; a mighty man in battle, a daring leader, yet cautious and sagacious withal; a man feared and beloved by those whom he led in warfare; a gay roysterer at other times, with as many strange oaths upon his lips as there are saints in the calendar; what the english call a swashbuckler and daredevil; a man whom one would little look to be led or guided by a woman, for he was impatient of counsel, and headstrong alike in thought and action. and this was the man who was to meet us at tours, form his impression of the maid, and throw the great weight of his personal influence either into one scale or the other. truth to tell, i was something nervous of this ordeal, and there were many who shared my doubts and fears. but the maid rode onward, serene and calm, the light of joy and hope in her eyes, untroubled by any doubts. at last she was on her way to the relief of the beleaguered city; there was no room for misgiving in her faithful heart. we entered tours amid the clashing of joy bells, the plaudits of the soldiers, and the laughter, the weeping, the blessings of an excited populace, who regarded the maid as the saviour of the realm. they crowded to their windows and waved flags and kerchiefs. they thronged upon her in the streets to gaze at her fair face and greet her as a deliverer. it was indeed a moving scene; but she rode through it, calm and tranquil, pausing in the press to speak a few words of thanks and greeting, but preserving always her gentle maidenly air of dignity and reserve. and so we came to the house which had been set apart for her use on her stay, and there we saw, standing at the foot of the steps which led from the courtyard into the house, a mighty, mailed figure, the headpiece alone lacking of his full armour, a carven warrior, as it seemed, with folded arms and bent brows, gazing upon us as we filed in under the archway, but making no move to approach us. i did not need the whisper which ran through the ranks of our escort to know that this man was the great and valiant la hire. as the maid's charger paused at the foot of the steps, this man strode forward with his hand upraised as in a salute, and giving her his arm, he assisted her to alight, and for a few moments the two stood looking into each other's eyes with mutual recognition, taking, as it were, each the measure of the other. the maid was the first to speak, her eyes lighting with that deep down, indescribable smile, which she kept for her friends alone. when i saw that smile in her eyes, as they were upraised to la hire's face, all my fears vanished in a moment. "you are the dauphin's brave general la hire, from orleans," she said; "i thank you, monsieur, for your courtesy in coming thus to meet me. for so can we take counsel together how best the enemies of our country may be overthrown." "you are the maid, sent of god and the king for the deliverance of the realm," answered la hire, as he lifted her hand to his lips, "i bid you welcome in the name of orleans, its soldiers, and its citizens. for we have been like men beneath a spell--a spell too strong for us to break. you come to snap the spell, to break the yoke, and therefore i bid you great welcome on the part of myself and the citizens and soldiers of orleans. without your counsels to his majesty, and the aid you have persuaded him to send, the city must assuredly have fallen ere this. only the knowledge that help was surely coming has kept us from surrender." "i would the help had come sooner, my general," spoke the maid; "but soon or late it is one with my lord, who will give us the promised victory." from that moment friendship, warm and true, was established betwixt the bronzed warrior and the gentle maid, who took up, as by natural right, her position of equal--indeed, of superior--in command, not with any haughty assumption, not with any arrogant words or looks, but sweetly and simply, as though there were no question but that the place was hers; that to her belonged the ordering of the forces, the overlooking of all. again and again, even we, who had come to believe so truly in her divine commission, were astonished at the insight she showed, the sagacity of her counsels, the wonderful authority she was able to exert over the soldiers brought together, a rude, untrained, insubordinate mass of men, collected from all ranks and classes of the people, some being little better than bands of marauders, living on prey and plunder, since of regular fighting there had been little of late; others, mercenaries hired by the nobles to swell their own retinues; many raw recruits, fired by ardour at the thought of the promised deliverance; a few regular trained bands, with their own officers in command, but forming altogether a heterogeneous company, by no means easy to drill into order, and swelled by another contingent at blois, of very much the same material. but the maid assembled the army together, and thus addressed them. at least, this was the substance of her words; nothing can reproduce the wonderful earnestness and power of her voice and look, for her face kindled as she spoke, and the sunshine playing upon her as she sat her charger in the glory of her silver armour, seemed to encompass her with a pure white light, so that men's eyes were dazzled as they looked upon her, and they whispered one to the other: "the angelic maid! the angelic maid! surely it is an angel of god come straight down from heaven to aid and lead us." "my friends," she spoke, and her voice carried easily to every corner of the great square, packed with a human mass, motionless, hanging upon her words; "my friends, we are about to start forth upon a crusade as holy as it is possible for men to be concerned in, for it is as saviours and deliverers of your brethren and our country that we go; and the lord of hosts is with us. he has bidden us march, and he has promised to go with us, even as he was with the israelites of old. and if we do not see his presence in pillar of cloud by day, and pillar of fire by night, we yet do know and feel him near us; and he will give abundant proof that he fights upon our side!" she lifted her face for a moment to the sky. she was bareheaded, and every head was bared in that vast crowd as she uttered the name of the most high. it seemed as though a light from heaven fell upon her as she spoke, and a deep murmur ran through the throng. it was as if they answered that they needed no other vision than that of the maid herself. "if then the lord be with us, must we not show ourselves worthy of his holy presence in our midst? o my friends, since i have been with you these few days, my heart has been pained and grieved by that which i have heard and seen. oaths and blasphemies fall from your lips, and you scarce know it yourselves. drunkenness and vice prevail. o my friends, let this no longer be amongst us! let us cleanse ourselves from all impurities; let our conversation be yea, yea, nay, nay. let none take the name of the lord in vain, nor soil his holy cause by vice and uncleanness. o let us all, day by day, as the sun rises anew each morning, assemble to hear mass, and to receive the holy sacrament. let every man make his confession. holy priests are with us to hear all, and to give absolution. let us start forth upon the morrow purified and blessed of god, and let us day by day renew that holy cleansing and blessing, that the lord may indeed be with us and rest amongst us, and that his heart be not grieved and burdened by that which he shall see and hear amongst those to whom he has promised his help and blessing!" thus she spoke; and a deep silence fell upon all, in the which it seemed to me the fall of a pin might have been heard. the maid sat quite still for a moment, her own head bent as though in prayer. then she lifted it, and a radiant smile passed over her face, a smile as of assurance and thankful joy. she raised her hand and waved it, almost as though she blessed, whilst she greeted her soldiers, and then she turned her horse, the crowd making way for her in deep reverential silence, and rode towards her own lodging, where she remained shut up in her own room for the rest of the day. but upon the following morning a strange thing had happened. every single camp follower--all the women and all the disorderly rabble that hangs upon the march of an army--had disappeared. they had slunk off in the night, and were utterly gone. the soldiers were gathered in the churches to hear mass. all that could do so attended where it was known the maid would be, and when she had received the sacrament herself, hundreds crowded to do the like; and i suppose there were thousands in the city that day, who, having confessed and received absolution, received the pledge of the lord's death, though perhaps some of them had not thought of such a duty for years and years. and here i may say that this was not an act for once and all. day by day in the camp mass was celebrated, and the holy sacrament given to all who asked and came. the maid ever sought to begin the day thus, and we of her personal household generally followed her example. even la hire would come and kneel beside her, a little behind, though it was some while before he desired to partake of the sacrament himself. but to be near her in this act of devotion seemed to give him joy and confidence and for her sake, because he saw it pained her, he sought to break off his habit of profane swearing, and the use of those strange oaths before which men had been wont to quake. and she, seeing how sorely tried he was to keep from his accustomed habit, did come to his aid with one of her frank and almost boy-like smiles, and told him that he might swear by his baton if he needs must use some expletive; but that no holy name must lightly pass his lips. strange indeed was it to see the friendship which had so quickly sprung up between that rough warrior and the maid, whom he could almost have crushed to death between his mighty hands. if all the generals in the army were as noble minded as he, and as ready to receive her whom god had sent them, we should have little to fear; but there was dunois yet to reckon with, who had promised to come forth and meet her outside the town (for the blockade, as i have before said, was not perfect; and on the south side men could still come and go with caution and care), and to lead her in triumph within its walls, if the english showed not too great resistance. but even now we were to find how that they did not yet trust the maid's authority as it should be trusted; and even la hire was in fault here, as afterwards he freely owned. for the maid had told them to lead her to the city on the north side, as her plan was to strike straight through the english lines, and scatter the besieging force ere ever she entered the town at all. but since the city lies to the north of the river, and the english had built around it twelve great bastilles, as they called them, and lay in all their strength on this side, it seemed too venturesome to attack in such a manner; and in this la hire and dunois were both agreed. but la hire did not tell the maid of any disagreements, but knowing the country to be strange to her, he led her and the army by a route which she believed the right one, till suddenly we beheld the towers of orleans and the great surrounding fortifications rising up before our eyes; and, behold! the wide river with its bridge more than half destroyed, lay between us and our goal! at this sight the eyes of the maid flashed fire, and she turned them upon la hire, but spoke never a word. his face flushed a dull crimson with a sudden, unexpected shame. to do him justice be it said, that (as we later heard) he had been against this deception after having seen the maid; but there were now many notable generals and marshals and officers with the army, all of whom were resolved upon this course of action, which had been agreed upon beforehand with dunois, and they had overborne his objections, which were something faint-hearted perhaps, for with his love and admiration for the maid, he trembled, as he now explained to her, to lead her by so perilous a route, and declared that she could well be conducted into the city through the burgundy gate, by water, without striking a blow, instead of having to fight her way in past the english bastions. "i thank you for your care for me, my friend," she answered, "but it were better to have obeyed my voice. the english arrows could not have touched me. we should have entered unopposed. now much precious time must needs be lost, for how can this great army be transported across yonder river?--and the bridge, even if we could dislodge the english from the tower of les tourelles, is broken down and useless." indeed it seemed plain to all that the generals had made a great blunder; for though we marched on to checy, where dunois met us, and whence some of the provisions brought for the starving city could be dispatched in the boats assembled there, it was plain that there was no transport sufficient for the bulk of the army; and the maid, as she and dunois stood face to face, at last regarded him with a look of grave and searching scrutiny. "are you he whom men call the bastard of orleans?" "lady, i am; and i come to welcome you with gladness, for we are sore beset by our foes; yet all within the city are taking heart of grace, believing that a deliverer from heaven has been sent to them." "they think well," answered the maid, "and right glad am i to come. but wherefore have i been led hither by this bank, instead of the one upon which talbot and his english lie?" "lady, the wisest of our leaders held that this would be the safest way." "the counsel of god and our lord is more sure and more powerful than that of generals and soldiers," she answered gravely. "you have made an error in this. see to it that such error be not repeated. i will that in all things my lord be obeyed." the generals stood dumb and discomfited before her; a thrill ran through the army when her words were repeated there; but, indeed, we all quickly saw the wisdom of her counsel and the folly of her adversaries; for the bulk of the army had perforce to march back to blois to cross the river there, whilst only a thousand picked men with the chiefest of the generals and the convoys of provisions prepared to enter the city by water and pass through the burgundy gate. at the first it seemed as though even this would be a dangerous task, for the wind blew hard in a contrary direction, and the deeply-laden boats began to be in peril of foundering. but as we stood watching them from the bank, and saw their jeopardy, and some were for recalling them and waiting, the maid's voice suddenly rang forth in command: "leave them alone, and hasten forward with the others. the wind will change, and a favouring breeze shall carry us all safe into the city. the english shall not fire a shot to hinder us, for the fear of the maid has fallen upon them!" we gazed at her in wonder as she stood a little apart, her face full of power and calm certainty. and indeed, it was but a very few minutes later that the wind dropped to a dead calm, and a light air sprang up from a contrary direction, and the laden boats gladly spreading sail, floated quietly onwards with their precious load towards the suffering city. then we embarked, somewhat silently, for the awe which fell upon those who had never seen the maid before, extended even to us. moreover, with those frowning towers of the english so close upon us, crowded with soldiers who seemed to know what was happening, and who were coming into orleans, it was scarce possible not to look for resistance and hostile attack. but curious as it may seem, not a shot was fired as we passed along. a silence strange and sinister seemed to hang over the lines of the enemy; but when we reached the city how all was changed! it was about eight o'clock in the evening when at last we finished our journey by water and land, and entered the devoted town. there the chiefest citizens came hurrying to meet us, leading a white charger for their deliverer to ride upon. and when she was mounted, the people thronged about her weeping and shouting, blessing and hailing her as their champion and saviour. the streets were thronged with pale-faced men; women and children hung from the windows, showering flowers at our feet. torches lit up the darkening scene, and shone from the breastplates and headpieces of the mailed men. but the maid in her white armour seemed like a being from another sphere; and the cry of "st. michael! st. michael himself!" resounded on all sides, and one did not wonder. nothing would serve the maid but to go straight to the cathedral first, and offer thanksgiving for her arrival here, and the people flocked with her, till the great building was filled to overflowing with her retinue of soldiers and her self-constituted followers. some begged of her to address them from the steps at the conclusion of the brief service, but she shook her head. "i have no words for them--only i love them all," she answered, with a little natural quiver of emotion in her voice. "tell them so, and that i have come to save them. and then let me go home." so la hire stood forth and gave the maid's message in his trumpet tones, and the maid was escorted by the whole of the joyful and loving crowd to the house of the treasurer boucher, where were her quarters, and where she was received with acclamation and joy. and thus the maid entered the beleaguered city of orleans. chapter ix. how the maid assumed command at orleans. the house of the treasurer was a beautiful building in the gothic style, and weary as was the maid with the toils and excitements through which she had passed, i saw her eyes kindle with pleasure and admiration as she was ceremoniously led into the great banqueting hall, where the tables were spread with abundant good cheer (despite the reduced condition of the city), to do honour to her who came as its deliverer. there was something solemn and church-like in these surroundings which appealed at once to the maid. she had a keen eye for beauty, whether of nature or in the handiwork of man, and her quick penetrating glances missed nothing of the stately grandeur of the house, the ceremonious and courtly welcome of the treasurer, its master, or the earnest, wistful gaze of his little daughter charlotte, who stood holding fast to her mother's hand in the background, but feasting her great dark eyes upon the wonderful shining figure of the maid, from whose white armour the lights of the great hall flashed back in a hundred points of fire. the greeting of the master of the house being over, the maid threw off for a moment the grave dignity of her bearing throughout this trying day, and became a simple girl again. with a quick grace of movement she crossed the space which divided her from the little child, and kneeling suddenly down, took the wondering little one in her arms, and held her in a close embrace. "ma petite, ma mie, ma tres chere," those nearest heard her murmur. "love me, darling, love me! i have a little sister at home who loves me, but i had to go away and leave her. perhaps i may never see her again. try to love me instead, and comfort my heart, for sometimes i am very, very weary, and hungry for the love that i have lost!" now, one might have thought that so young a child--for she was not more than eight years old, and small for her years--would have been affrighted at the sudden approach of the shining warrior, about whom so many stories had been told, and who looked more like the archangel michael, as many thought, than a creature of human flesh and blood. but instead of showing any fear, the child flung her arms about the neck of the maid, and pressed kisses upon her face--her headpiece she had removed at her entrance--and when the mother would have loosened her hold, and sent the child away with her attendant, little charlotte resisted, clinging to her new friend with all her baby strength, and the maid looked pleadingly up into the kindly face of the lady, and said: "ah, madame, i pray you let her remain with me. it is so long since i felt the arms of a child about my neck!" and so the little one stayed to the banquet, and was given the place of honour beside the maid. but neither of these twain had any relish for the dainty meats and rich dishes served for us. as on the march, so now in the walls of the city, the maid fared as simply as the rudest of her soldiers. she mixed water with her wine, took little save a slice or two of bread, and though to please her hosts she just touched one or two specially prepared dishes, it was without any real relish for them, and she was evidently glad when she was able to make excuse to leave the table and go to the room prepared for her. but here again she showed her simple tastes, for when the great guest chamber was shown her she shrank a little at its size and luxury, and, still holding the child's hand in hers, she turned to the mother who was in attendance and said: "i pray you, sweet lady, let me whilst i am your guest share the room of this little daughter of yours. i am but a simple country girl, all this grandeur weighs me down. if i might but sleep with this little one in my arms--as the little sister at home loved to lie--i should sleep so peacefully and have such happy dreams! ah, madame!--let me have my will in this!" and madame boucher, being a mother and a true woman, understood; and answered by taking the maid in her arms and kissing her. and so, as long as the maid remained in orleans, she shared the little white bedroom of the child of the house, which opened from that of the mother, and the bond which grew up between the three was so close and tender a one, that i trow the good treasurer and his wife would fain have regarded this wonderful maid as their own daughter, and kept her ever with them, had duty and her voices not called her elsewhere when the first part of her task was done. now bertrand and i, together with pierre, her brother, and the chevalier d'aulon and sir guy de laval, were lodged in the same house, and entertained most hospitably by the treasurer, who sat up with us far into the night after our arrival, listening with earnest attention to all we could tell him respecting the maid, and telling us on his part of the feeling in orleans anent her and her mission, and what we might expect to follow her arrival here. "the townsfolk seem well-nigh wild for joy at sight of her," spoke de laval, "and the more they see of her, the more they will love her and reverence her mission. i was one who did openly scoff, or at least had no faith in any miracle, until that i saw her with mine own eyes; and then some voice in my heart--i know not how to speak more plainly of it--or some wonderful power in her glance or in her voice, overcame me. and i knew that she had in very truth come from god, and i have never doubted of her divine commission from that day to this. it will be the same here in orleans, if, indeed, there be any that doubt." "alas! there are--too many!" spoke the treasurer, shaking his head, "i am rejoiced that our two greatest generals, dunois and la hire, have become her adherents, for i myself believe that she has been sent of god for our deliverance, and so do the townsfolk almost to a man. but there are numbers of the lesser officers--bold men and true--who have fought valiantly throughout the siege, and who have great influence with the soldiers they lead, and these men are full of disgust at the thought of being led by a woman--a girl--and one of low degree. they would be willing for her to stand aloft and prophesy victory for their arms, but that she should arm herself and lead them in battle, and direct operations herself, fills them with disgust and contempt. there is like to be trouble, i fear, with some of these. there is bold de gamache, for example, who declares he would sooner fold up his banner and serve as a simple soldier in the ranks, than hold a command subservient to that of a low-born woman!" that name as applied to the angelic maid set our teeth on edge; yet was it wonderful that some should so regard her? "let them but see her--and they will change their tune!" spake bertrand quickly. "a low-born woman! would they speak thus of the blessed virgin? and yet according to the wisdom of the flesh it would be as true of one as of the other." the treasurer spoke with grave thoughtfulness: "truly do i think that any person honoured by the lord with a direct mission from himself becomes something different by virtue of that mission from what he or she was before. yet we may not confound this mission of the maid here in orleans with that one which came to the blessed mary." "nor had i any thought," answered bertrand, "of likening one to the other, save inasmuch as both have been maidens, born in lowly surroundings, yet chosen for purity of heart and life, and for childlike faith and obedience, for the honour of receiving a divine commission. there the parallel stops; for there can be no comparison regarding the work appointed to each. yet even as this maid shall fulfil her appointed task in obedience to the injunctions received, she is worthy to be called the handmaid of the lord." "to that i have nought to say but yea," answered the treasurer heartily, "and i pray our lord and the blessed virgin to be with her and strengthen her, for i fear me she will have foes to contend with from within as well as from without the city; and as all men know, it is the distrust and contradiction of so-called friends which is harder to bear than the open enmity of the foe." it was difficult for us, vowed heart and soul to the cause of the maid, and honoured by her friendship and confidence, to believe that any could be so blind as not to recognise in her a god-sent messenger, whom they would delight to follow and to honour. yet when i walked out upon the following morning--a sunny first of may--to have a good look round at the position of the fortifications, the ring of english bastilles to the north, the blockading towers upon the southern bank, i was quickly aware of a great deal of talk going on amongst the soldiers and the officers which was by no means favourable to the cause of the maid. voices were hushed somewhat at my approach, for though none knew me, i was of course a stranger, and therefore likely to have entered the town in the train of the maid, who had yesterday made her appearance there. but i heard enough to be sure that what the treasurer had said last evening was likely to be true. the soldiers were disposed to scoff at being led by a woman, and the officers to grumble at having had to bear all the burden of the long siege, and then when the king did send an army for the relief, to send it under the command of this maid, who would bear away the honour and glory which otherwise all might have shared. from their point of view, perhaps, this discontent was not unreasonable; but as i looked upon the works around me, i marvelled how it had been possible for the english, unprotected as they must have originally been, to erect these great towers for their own shelter, and from which to batter the town with their cannon and great stone balls, when the french in great numbers and protected by strong walls, ought to have been able to sally forth continually and so to harass them that the construction of such buildings should have been impossible. the great dunois had shown considerable acumen. he had himself destroyed all the suburbs of the town which lay without the walls, so that the english might find no shelter there, and when they had effected a lodgment on the south side of the river, he had destroyed the greater part of the bridge, thus making it impossible for the enemy to cross and take possession of the town. but he had not stopped the erection of those threatening towers circling round the city to the north, nor the construction of those still stronger blockading fortresses on the south side, les tourelles guarding the fragment of the broken bridge, and les augustins not far away. when i spoke to one grizzled old soldier about it, he shrugged his shoulders and made reply: "what would you? those english are helped of the devil himself. we have tried to stand against them, but it is all to no purpose. some demon of fighting enters into them, and they know that we shall fly--and fly we do. at last there were none who would face them. our generals sought in vain to lead them. you should have heard la hire swearing at them. o-he, o-he, he is a master of the art! some of us would have followed him; but the rest--one might as well have asked a flock of sheep to go against the wolf, telling them they were fifty to one! not they! it was witchcraft, or something like it. they sat still on these ramparts and watched the english working like moles or like ants, and never lifted a finger. pouf! when men get to that they are not fit to fight they had better go home and ply the distaff with the women." "and let a woman come and lead their comrades to battle!" i said, laughing. "have you seen the wonderful maid of whom all the world is talking?" "no; at least, i only caught a gleam of light upon her white armour last night; but as i said to the boys in the guardroom, i care not whether she be woman, witch, or angel; if she will bring back heart and courage, and make men again of all these chicken-hearted poltroons, i will follow her to the death wherever she may lead. i am sick with shame for the arms of france!" "bravely spoken, my friend!" i cried, giving him my hand; "and if that be the spirit of the army, i doubt not but that a few days will see such a turn in the tide of warfare as shall make the whole world stand aghast!" "then you believe in her?" quoth the old soldier, looking me shrewdly up and down. "with my whole heart!" i answered, as i turned and took my way back to my quarters. that same day the maid held a council of war, at which all the officers of any importance were permitted to attend; and here it was that she received the first real check since she had received the king's commission and royal command. "let us attack the foe at once, and without delay, messires!" she said, sitting at the head of the council table, fully armed, save for her headpiece, and speaking in her clear, sweet, full tones, wherein power and confidence were blended; "the lord of hosts is on our side. let us go forth in his strength, and the victory will be ours." but they listened to her in silent consternation and amaze. here was this inexperienced girl, blind with enthusiasm, drunk with success, her head completely turned by her reception last night, actually advising an assault upon the enemy before the arrival of the army of relief, which had been forced to return to blois to cross the river, and which could not arrive for a few more days. what madness would she next propose? well, at least la hire and dunois were there to curb her folly and impetuosity. a chit of a girl like that to sit and tell them all to go forth to certain death at her command! as though they would not want all their strength to aid the relieving army to enter when it should appear! as though they were going to weaken themselves beforehand by any mad scheme of hers! thus the storm arose. even la hire, dunois, and the treasurer himself, were against her. as for the lesser officers, when they began to speak, they scarce knew how to contain themselves, and restrain their anger and scorn from showing itself too markedly towards one who held the king's mandate of command. and of late the maid had always been listened to with such honour and respect! how would she bear this contradiction and veiled contempt, she who had come to assume the command of the city and its armies at the king's desire? she sat very still and quiet at the table, as the storm hummed about her. her clear gaze travelled from face to face as one or another of the officers rose and spoke. sometimes a slight flush of red dyed her cheek for a moment; but never once did anger cloud her brow, or impatience or contempt mar the wonderful serenity of her beautiful eyes. only once did she speak during the whole of the debate, after her opening words had been delivered, and that was after a very fiery oration on the part of a youthful officer, whose words contained more veiled scorn of her and her mission than any other had dared to show. instead of looking at him either in anger or in reproach, the maid's own wonderful smile shone suddenly upon him as he concluded. then she spoke: "captain de gamache, you think yourself my foe now; but that will soon be changed, and i thank you beforehand for the brave, true service which you shall presently render me. but meantime, beware of rashness; for victory shall not come to the city without the maid." he gazed at her--we all gazed at her--in amaze, not knowing what her words portended. but she gave no explanation. she only rose to her feet and said: "then, gentlemen, since the attack is not to be yet--not till the arrival of the relieving force, let me make the tour of the battlements, and examine the defences of the city. i would that you had faith to let me lead you forth today; but the time will come when i shall not have to plead with you--you will follow gladly in my wake. for the rest, it would perchance be a sorrow to my brave men, who have marched so far with me, not to partake in the victory which the lord is about to send us; wherefore i will the more readily consent to delay, though, let me tell you, you are in the wrong to withstand the wishes of the commander of the king's armies, and the messenger of the king of kings." i verily believe that she shamed them by her gentle friendliness more than she would have done by any outburst of wrath. had she urged them now, i am not sure but what they would have given her her way; but she did not. she put her white velvet cap, with its nodding plumes, upon her head, and taking with her the chiefest of the generals and her own immediate retinue, she made the tour of the walls and defences of the city, showing such a marvellous insight into the tactics of war that she astonished all by her remarks and by her injunctions. suddenly, as we were walking onwards, she paused and lifted her face with a wonderful rapt expression upon it. then she turned to dunois, and said with quiet authority: "mon general, i must ask of you to take a small body of picked men, and ride forth towards blois, and see what bechances there. i trow there is trouble among the men. traitors are at work to daunt their hearts. go and say that the maid bids them fear nothing, and that they shall enter orleans in safety. the english shall not be suffered to touch them. go at once!" "in broad daylight, lady, and before the very eyes of the foe?" "yes, yes," she answered instantly; "i will stand here and watch you. no hurt shall be done to you or to your company." so dunois went at her command, and we saw him and his little band ride fearlessly through the english lines; and scarce could we believe our eyes when we noted that no weapon was raised against them; not even an arrow was shot off as they passed. "she speaks the words of god. she is his messenger!" whispered the men who stood by; and her fame flew from mouth to mouth, till a strange awe fell upon all. she was never idle during those days of waiting. she asked news of the letter she had sent to the english, and heard it had been delivered duly, though the herald had not returned. she gave commission to la hire to demand his instant release, and this was accomplished speedily; for the bold captain, of his own initiative, vowed he would behead every prisoner they had in the city if the man were not given up at the command of the maid. i am very sure no such act of summary vengeance would have been permitted, but the man was instantly released and came and told us how that the letter had been read with shouts of insulting laughter, and many derisive answers suggested; none of which, however, had been dispatched, as talbot, the chief in command of the english armies, had finally decreed that it became not his dignity to hold any parley with a witch. and yet she could scarce believe that they should none of them understand how that she was indeed come from god, and that they must be lamentably overthrown if they would not hear her words. on the third day of her stay in the city she caused her great white banner to be carried forth before her, and riding a white horse, clad in her silver armour, and clasping her banneret in her hand she rode slowly out upon the broken fragment of the bridge opposite to the tower of les tourelles, and begged a parley from the english general in command. it was not lord talbot who came forth and stood upon his own end of the bridge, gazing haughtily across the space which divided them; but it was a notable soldier, whom the french called classidas, though i have been told that his real name was sir william glassdale. to him the maid addressed herself in her clear mellow voice, which could be heard across the flowing river: "retournez de la part dieu a l'angleterre!" was the burden of her charge, imploring him to have mercy upon himself and his soldiers, as else many hundreds of them, and himself also, must perish miserably, and perchance even without the offices of the church. but she was answered by roars of mocking laughter from the soldiers of the fort, and worse still, by gross insults from classidas himself, hurled across at her from a biting tongue, which carried like the note of a trumpet. silently she stood and gazed at him; mournfully she turned and rode back to the town. "may god have mercy upon their souls!" she prayed; and for the rest of the day she was sorrowful and sad. "if it could have been done without bloodshed!" she murmured again and yet again. ah, and then the day when the news came that the relieving army was in sight! was she sad or pensive then? no! she sprang to her feet; she set down the little charlotte, who was playing in her arms; she seized her weapons, her page flew to bring her full armour. her horse was already in waiting; she swung upon his back. she waved her hand and called to us to rally about her. "the english are preparing to fight!" she cried (how did she know? none had told her), "but follow me, and they will strike no blow." already la hire was at her side, seeking to dissuade her from leaving the shelter of the town. she smiled at him, and rode through the gate, her white banner floating in the wind. "see yonder; that is the point of danger. we will station ourselves there, and watch our brave army march past. they shall not be hurt nor dismayed. all shall be well!" so we rode, wondering and amazed, behind and around her, and at the appointed spot, in the very midst of the english lines, we halted, and made a great avenue for the army from blois to pass through. all gazed in wonder at the maid. all saluted deeply. the english in their towers gazed in amaze, but fired no shot. we all passed into the city in safety. great god, but how would it be with our maid when the real battle and bloodshed should begin? chapter x. how the maid led us into battle. "it was well indeed that you sent me forth on that mission, my chieftainess," spoke dunois, as we sat at the long table in the treasurer's house, refreshing ourselves after the fatigues of the march to and from the city, and the anxiety of awaiting an attack, which had not come. he bowed towards the maid in speaking, calling her by a playful title in vogue amongst the officers and generals who were her friends. "though what prompted you to that act of sagacity is more than i know. i had no misgivings that there would be trouble with the army." "my voices warned me," answered the maid gently. "it was not much; yet a little leaven often leavens the whole lump. they needed just the leader's eye and voice to recall them to their duty." "truly that is just how the matter stood," spoke sir guy in low tones to us twain, bertram and i, who sat on either side of him at the other end of the board. he had been one to depart and return with dunois, and we looked eagerly to him for explanation. "there are ever timid spirits in all ranks, and traitors or faint-hearted friends are never far away in such times as these. the army which would have followed the maid to the death with joy, felt depression and disappointment at being parted from her. had they been able to ford the river and march straight into the city, there would have been no trouble, no tremors or doubts; but the turning back was a discouragement, and alas! the french have had too much of this of late. there were whisperers at work seeking to undermine faith in the maid and her mission. as she says, no great hurt was done; it was but the work of a few--and some of these priests, who should better have understood the counsels of god--but a little leaven will work mightily in the lump, as she herself did justly remark; and ere we reached blois, we had heard rumours that the army was talking of disbanding itself and dispersing hither and thither. the truth was not so bad as that; but there was wavering and doubt in the ranks. "our appearance with the message from the maid worked like a charm. the soldiers, when they knew that she had been told of their hesitation, were instantly horribly ashamed. they clamoured to be led back to her, to show the mettle of which they were made. i trow they will not waver again, now that she hath them beneath her eye." "it is marvellous how she doth hold them by the power of her glance, by her gentleness and devotion. and, look you, what hath she done to the english? it was rumoured through the city that so soon as the relief army approached the english lines, there would be an attack in force, and our comrades would be driven back at the sword's point, and have to fight every inch of the way. yet what has been the truth? the maid led us to the spot which commanded the road--well in the heart of the english lines. their fortresses were humming like hives of bees disturbed. the english knew what was being done, and watched it all; yet not a gun was fired, not an archer launched his shaft, not a man moved out to oppose the entrance of the relief force nor even the convoy of provisions for the garrison. they watched it all as men in a dream, not a dog moved his tongue against us." "she told us it would be so," spoke i, leaning towards sir guy, "there will be fighting anon; but it was not to be then. surely their arms were holden by a power they wot not of. if she herself had not gone forth to guard the way--standing like the flaming cherubim with the sword which turned every way--i misdoubt me but that a heavy action must have been fought, ere the army was suffered to enter the gates." there was much talk all down the table of these matters; but the maid took little part in this. her eyes were heavy, and she looked weary and pale. i doubt not she had spent the night previous in vigil and prayer, as was so often her wont. when we rose from our repast, she retired into a small inner room reserved for her use, and the little charlotte went with her. a curtain, partly drawn, shut off this room from the outer one in which we knights and some of her pages and gentlemen sat talking; and i was just able to see from where i sat that the maid had laid herself down upon a couch, the little one nestled beside her, and i felt sure by her stillness and immobility that she was soon soundly asleep, taking the rest she sorely needed after the exertions and excitements of the early hours of the day. our conversation languished somewhat, for the warmth of the may afternoon made us all drowsy. we, like the maid herself, had laid aside our coats of mail, and were enjoying a spell of rest and leisure; and there was silence in both the rooms, when suddenly we--if indeed we slept--were awakened by the voice of the maid speaking in the tones of one who dreams. "i must up and against the english!" she cried, and at the first word i started broad awake and was on my feet at the door of communication, looking towards her. she still lay upon the couch, but her eyes were wide open and fixed; her lips moved. "i hear! i hear!" she went on, yet still as one who dreams, "i am ready--i will obey. only tell me what i must do. is it against the towers i must go, to assail them? or is it that fastolffe comes against us with yet another host?" little charlotte here pulled the maid by the hand, crying out: "what are you saying? to whom do you speak? there is nobody here but you and me!" the maid sprang to her feet, wide awake now in an instant. she bent for one moment over the wondering child, and kissed her tenderly, as though to soothe the alarm in the baby eyes. "run to your mother, ma mie, for i must off and away on the instant," then wheeling round with her air of martial command, she called to me and said, "to arms at once! i must to the front! french blood is flowing. they are seeking to act without me. o my poor soldiers, they are falling and dying! to horse! to horse! i come to save them!" was she dreaming? what did it mean? the town seemed as quiet as the still summer afternoon! not a sound of tumult broke the silence of the streets. yet the maid was having us arm her with lightning speed, and bertrand had rushed off at the first word for her horse and ours. "i know not what they are doing," spoke the maid, "but my voices tell me to fly to their succour! ah! why could they not have told me before! have i not ever been ready and longing to lead them against the foe?" she was ready now. we were all ready, and the echoes of the quiet house awoke beneath our feet as we clattered down the staircase to the courtyard below, where already the horses were standing pawing the ground with impatience, seeming to scent the battle from afar. the maid swung herself lightly to the saddle with scarce a touch from me. "my banner! my banner!" she suddenly cried; and looking upwards we saw a pretty sight. the little charlotte, her mother beside her, was hanging out of the window, the light staff of the maid's white banneret clasped in her chubby hands; and she was leaning out of the window, holding it towards the white mailed figure, of whom (in armour) she always spoke, in hushed tone, as mon ange. the maid looked upwards, kissed her gauntletted hand to the little one, seized the staff of her banner, and then, calling upon her followers in clear tones of command, dashed out through the gateway into the street beyond, and without an instant's hesitation turned towards that gate of the city nearest to the english bastille named st. loup. and though we all spurred after her, so that the sparks flew from under our horses' feet, and the chevalier d'aulon brought up the rear bearing the great white standard, which was to lead the armies into battle, we none of us knew wherefore we had come forth nor whither we were going; and the city being yet still and quiet, the citizens rushed to doors and windows to watch us pass by, and shouted questions to us which we were not able to answer. now, the house of the treasurer is hard by the renart gate, and we were making for the burgundy gate; so you who know orleans will understand that we had the whole distance of the city to traverse ere we cleared the walls. and sure enough, as we approached the fortifications upon the eastern side, a change came over the spirit of the scene; signs of excitement and fear and wonder began to show themselves; the walls were alive with men at arms, gazing fixedly out eastward, shouting, gesticulating, wild with a tumult of emotion. soldiers buckling on their arms, citizens with pale, yet resolute, faces, and swords or axes in their hands, were hurrying forth, and at sight of the maid on her chestnut charger (for the crusader was ever her favourite horse, and she had declared that he must carry her into her first battle whenever that should be) they shouted aloud with joy, and vowed themselves her servants and followers, wherever she should lead them. a young blacksmith, armed with a great club, was hanging upon my stirrup, and bounding along beside my horse with a swiftness and strength which excited my admiration. from him i heard first of the thing which had taken place. "it was de gamache and some of the other lesser officers who designed it," he cried. "they declared that the power of the english was already broken; that they would not leave their walls or show fight today; that already they had grown faint hearted, and were ready to fly before the french. "my captain, i tell you the truth, these men are jealous of the angelic maid whom heaven has sent us. they say that she will take from them all the honour and glory; that they will fight and risk their lives, but that she alone will have the praise. so they were full of bitterness and anger; and some, methinks, may have thought to shame her by showing that they could act without her aid, and do the work she has come to do, whilst she takes her rest and holds her councils. so, gathering a band of soldiers together, these officers have sallied forth to try and storm and take the fortress of st. loup, which lies some two thousand english yards from the walls along the river banks. but the soldiers on the walls are shouting out that the english have swarmed forth like angry bees, and are beating back our soldiers and slaying them by the score." "they should have known better than to go forth without the knowledge and command of the maid," i said sternly, and the young man at my side nodded vehemently, his face alight. "that is what we said--we others--we citizens, who have seen how powerless the soldiers are against the english. have they not fought again and again, and what has come of it but loss and defeat? and now that the good god has sent a deliverer, it is like flying in his face to seek and do without her. i said as much again and again. i knew no good would come of it. but when we saw the maid herself flying to the rescue, then did i vow that i, too, would fight under her banner. for now i know that god will give us the victory!" we were at the burgundy gate by this time and, dashing through, we saw a terrible sight. the whole open plain between the walls of the town and the fortress of st. loup was covered with soldiers, strewn with dying and dead. a horrible sort of fight was going on, horrible to us, because the french were in full retreat before our foe, going down like sheep before the butcher's knife, rushing panic stricken hither and thither as men demented, whilst the english soldiers, as though ashamed of their recent inaction and paralysis, were fiercely pursuing, shouting "kill! kill! kill!" as they went about their work of slaughter, driving back their enemies, and striking at them remorselessly. here and there a brave officer, with his band of chosen followers, would be presenting a bold face to the foe, making a stand and seeking to rally the flying ranks. i was certain that i saw de gamache himself, hewing his way like a very paladin through the ranks of the english, and dealing death and destruction wherever he went. but the valour of a few had no power to turn the fortunes of the field; and the rout had already begun, when the maid and her attendants, closely followed by an enthusiastic band of soldiers and citizens, dashed forth from the burgundy gate, and mingled with the flying french hastening towards the city for safety. "courage, my children, courage!" cried the maid, waving her white pennon. "be not dismayed. the lord has heard your cries. he has sent me to your aid. take courage! fear nothing, for the victory shall be ours!" she did not even pause to note the effect of her words upon them, but sped onwards, fearless of danger, right into the very heart of the battle. we followed and closed up round her; but that shining white figure could not be hidden. the english saw it bearing down upon them, and instantly there was wavering in their ranks. before our swords had had time to strike at them, something touched them as with an icy hand. "the maid! the maid! the white witch!" they cried, and they paused in their pursuit to gaze upon that dazzling figure, and methinks their hearts melted like wax within them. from behind now arose a mighty tumult, and shouts and cries as of triumph thundered from the city walls. dunois and la hire, more tardily advised of what was happening, but prompt and decisive in action, were galloping out of the gate at the head of the picked soldiers under their command. rank behind rank we could see them flashing through the shadow into the sunshine, and dashing forward in compact order, their gaze fixed full upon the maid in the centre of the plain, who stood with uplifted sword and fluttering pennon, a veritable angel of the battle. but we saw other sights, too; for lord talbot was not idle on his side, but sent forth from other of the bastilles bodies of men to the aid of the defenders of st. loup. the whole plain was filled with surging masses of soldiers, rushing one upon the other in the fury of the fray. how would the maid bear it? she whose tender heart ached at the thought of human suffering, and whose soul was filled with yearning sorrow for men struck down in their sins. i pressed up towards her and saw her pitiful eyes fixed upon a convoy of wounded men, whom we had sent to rescue from their peril, lying as they did in the very heart of the plain. the eyes which had been flashing fire a moment before, were suffused with tears, as the melancholy procession passed her by. she turned to her page and said, "ride quickly into the city, and bid the priests come forth to hear the confessions and give absolution to the dying. lose not a moment! tell them that souls are every moment being hurried to their last account. bid them make haste and come, and let them give equal care to friend and foe; for in death all men are equal in the sight of god, and i would not that any english soldier or prisoner should fall without the consolations of religion." then, having thus done all that she could for the wounded and the dying, the maid was once again the resolute soldier. her keen eyes swept the plain; she saw with lightning speed where the need was the greatest, where the peril to the french cause was direst, and sweeping into the midst of the press, her sword and her banner flashing in the sunshine, she ever brought succour and victory in her wake. no foe could stand before her. not that she struck blows with her own hand. there seemed no need for that, and when at the close of the day i relieved her of her arms, there was no spot of blood upon her shining blade, though her coat of silver mail had received stains from the fray. she was like the angel of victory, flashing through the ranks of the combatants. wherever she appeared, the flying french turned back to face the foe, and the pursuing english wavered, paused, and finally broke rank and fled backwards to the shelter of their walls and forts. our men fought gallantly--let me not deny them their due--soldiers and citizens alike, who had come forth with and after the maid, all were inspired by confidence and courage. but it was her presence in the ranks which gave assurance of victory. wherever french soldiers wavered it was when she was far away and her back towards them. yet so soon as she turned in their direction--and some power seemed to whisper to her whenever her soldiers were dismayed--and galloped to their assistance, all was well again; and ere an hour had passed the english were driven back within their towers, and the victory was ours. dunois and la hire rode up to the maid and saluted. from the city in our rear we could already hear the pealing of the joy bells, the triumphant acclamation of the populace. "let us lead you back thither to receive the plaudits you have so well deserved," spoke dunois, who was man enough to give all the credit of the victory to the maid. "right valiantly have you accomplished your task. now let us take you to receive the gratitude of the town." "accomplished!" repeated the maid with a glance of surprise. "why, my friends, the task is scarcely yet begun!" they gazed at her in amazement; but she calmly pointed towards the frowning walls and battlements of st. loup. "we must take yonder tower," she said quietly, "that is what our brave, but rash young officers set themselves to do. they shall not be disappointed. it shall be ours ere night fall upon us. call to me the bold de gamache; i would have speech with him and his comrades." the greater generals looked at her and at one another, speaking no word. the walls and battlements of st. loup were strong and well defended. the tower could spout fire and smoke like a living monster. already the troops had marched far and fought hotly. surely if assault were to be made it should wait for another day. thus they communed together a stone's throw from the maid; but she only looked upon them with her deep inward smile, and softly i heard her speak the words: "no, it must be done today." de gamache rode up, and some half dozen other officers with him. his face was stained with blood and blackened by smoke. he had a scarf bound about his left arm; but his bearing was bold and resolute, and though his cheek flushed at the clear, direct gaze of the maid's eyes, he neither faltered nor trembled as he stood before her. "you did desire a good thing, my captain," she said, "and had you told me of your brave wish, i would have put myself at your head and led you to victory forthwith. yet this victory has not been forfeited, only delayed by your eager rashness. say, if i lead you myself, this very hour, against yon frowning tower, will you follow me like brave soldiers of the cross, and not turn back till my lord has given us the victory? for he will deliver yon place into our hands, albeit not without bloodshed, not without stress or strife. many must be slain ere we can call it ours, but will you follow and take it?" the shout which arose from a thousand throats rang to the welkin, and methinks must have smote with dread import upon the english ears. the maid's voice seemed to float through the air, and penetrate to the extreme limits of the crowd, or else her words were taken up and repeated by a score of eager tongues, and so ran through the mighty muster with thrilling import. the eyes were dazzled by the flashing blades as men swung them above their heads. "lead us, o maid, lead us! we follow to death or victory! we fear nothing so that you are our leader and our guide!" there was no withstanding a spirit like that! la hire's voice was one of the foremost in the cry; his great blade the first to leap from its scabbard. sage counsels of war, prompted by experience, had to give way before a power different from anything which the veterans had known before. with a dash, the elan of which was a marvellous sight to see, the soldiers poured themselves like a living stream against the walls of st. loup. the english behind the fortifications rained upon them missiles of every description. the air was darkened by a cloud of arrows. the cannon from the walls belched forth smoke and flame, and great stone and iron balls came hurtling down into our midst, dealing death and destruction. the english soldiers with their characteristic daring sallied forth sword in hand to beat us back and yet we pressed on and ever on; driven backwards here and there by stress of fighting; but never giving great way, and always rallied by the sight of that gleaming white armour, and by the clear, sweet voice ringing out through all the tumult of arms. "courage, my children, courage. the fight is fierce; but my lord gives you the victory. a little more courage, a little more patience, and the day is ours!" she stood unscathed amid the hail of stones and arrows. her clear glance never quailed; her sweet voice never faltered; she had thought for everyone but herself. again and again with her own hands she snatched some follower from a danger unseen by him, but which a moment later would have been his death. she herself stood unmoved in the awful tumult. she even smiled when dunois and la hire would have drawn her from the hottest of the fighting. "no, no, my friends, my place is here. have no fear. i shall not suffer. i have guardians watching over me that you wot not of." and so she stood unmoved at the foot of the tower, till the english, overcome with amaze, gave up the defence, and fled from a place they believed must surely be bewitched. and as the last of the sunlight faded from the sky, the fortress of st. loup was ours. the maid had fought her first battle, and had triumphed. chapter xi. how the maid bore triumph and trouble. the people of orleans, and we her knights and followers, were well-nigh wild with joy. i do not think i had ever doubted how she would bear herself in battle; and yet my heart had sometimes trembled at the thought of it. for, after all, speaking humanly, she was but a girl, a gentle maid, loving and tender-hearted, to whom the sight of suffering was always a sorrow and a pain. and to picture a young girl, who had perhaps never seen blows struck in anger in her life--save perchance in some village brawl--suddenly set in the midst of a battle, arms clashing, blood flowing, all the hideous din of warfare around her, exposed to all its fearful risks and perils--was it strange we should ask ourselves how she would bear it? was it wonderful that her confidence and calmness and steadfast courage under the trial should convince us, as never perhaps we had been convinced before, of the nearness of those supernatural beings who guarded her so closely, who warned her of danger, who inspired her with courage, and yet never robbed her for one moment of the grace and beauty and crown of her pure womanhood? and so, whilst we were well-nigh mad with joy and triumph, whilst joy bells pealed from the city, and the soldiers and citizens were ready to do her homage as a veritable saint from heaven, she was just her own quiet, thoughtful, retiring self. she put aside the plaudits of the generals; she hushed the excited shouting of the soldiers. she exercised her authority to check and stop the carnage, to insist that quarter should be given to all who asked it, to see that the wounded upon both sides were carried into the city to receive attention and care, and in particular that the prisoners--amongst whom were several priests--should receive humane treatment, and escape any sort of insult or reprisal. these matters occupied her time and thought to the exclusion of any personal pride or triumph. it was with difficulty that the generals could persuade her to ride at their head into the city, to receive the applause and joyful gratitude of the people; and as soon as she could without discourtesy extricate herself from the crowd pressing round to kiss her hands or her feet, or even the horse upon which she rode, she slipped away to give orders that certain badly wounded english prisoners were to be carried to the treasurer's house, and laid in the spacious guest chamber, which, having been prepared for her own reception, had been permitted to no one else. here she begged of madame boucher permission to lodge them, that she might tend their hurts herself, and assure herself that all was well with them. no one could deny the maid those things she asked, knowing well that others in her place would have issued commands without stooping to petition. but with the maid it was never so. her gentle courtesy never deserted her. no association with men, no military dignity of command, which she could so well assume, ever tarnished the lustre of her sweet humility. a gentle maiden, full of tenderness and compassion, she showed herself now. instead of resting after the sore strife of the battle, which had exhausted even strong men, nothing would serve her but that she must herself dress the wounds of these english prisoners; and so deft was her touch, and so soft and tender her methods with them, that not a groan passed the lips of any of them; they only watched her with wondering eyes of gratitude; and when she had left the room they looked at each other and asked: "who is it? is it boy, or angel, or what? the voice is as the voice of a woman, and the touch is as soft; but the dress is the dress of a man. who can it be?" i understood them, for i knew something of the english tongue, and i saw that they were in great amazement; for all who had seen the maid bore her image stamped upon their hearts; and yet it was impossible for these prisoners of war to believe that the triumphant, angelic commander of the forces could stoop to tend the hurts of wounded prisoners with her own hands. "gentlemen," i said, "that is the angelic maid herself--she who has been sent of heaven for the deliverance of france. i trow that you soldiers and knights of england have called her witch, and threatened to burn her if you can lay hands upon her. perchance now that you have seen her thus face to face, your thoughts towards her will somewhat change." they gazed at me and at one another in amaze. they broke into questions, eager and full of curiosity. when i had answered them they were ready to tell me what was spoken of her in the english ranks; all averred that some strange power seemed to fall upon them with the advent of the maid into the city--a power that withheld them from sallying forth to hinder her coming, or that of the relieving army. "we had meant to fight her to the death," spoke one english knight. "i was in counsel with the generals when it was so proposed; and yet more resolved were we to keep out the army from blois, which we heard must needs pass straight through our lines--an easy prey, we said, to our gunners, archers and swordsmen. all was in readiness for the attack--and yet no word was ever given. no trumpet sounded, though the men were drawn up ready. we all stood to arms; but the sight of that dazzling white figure seemed to close the lips of our commanders, to numb the limbs of our soldiers. i can say no more. when the chance was gone--the hour passed--we gazed into each other's face as men awaking from a dream. we cursed ourselves. we cursed the witch who had bound us by her spells. we vowed to redeem and revenge ourselves another day. and when we saw the french issuing forward to the attack scarce two hours after the entry of the relieving army, and there was no white figure with them, then indeed did we tell ourselves that our time was come; and we thought to win a speedy victory over the men who had so often fled before us. yet you know how the day did end. the maid came--victory rode beside her! nought we could do availed when she appeared. i had thought to be left to die upon the battlefield, but behold i am here, and she has dressed my wounds with her own hands! it is wonderful! past belief! tell me who and what is she? a creature of earth or of heaven?" i had already told him all i knew; but they were never tired of hearing the story of the maid; and as i, at her request, watched beside them during the night, ministering to their wants, and doing what i was able to relieve their pain, i found that nothing so helped them to forget the smart of their wounds as the narration of all the wonderful words and deeds of this heavenly deliverer of france. they were frank enough on their side also, and told me much of the disposition of their forces, and how that they were expecting a strong army to join them quickly, headed by sir john fastolffe, a notable knight, whose name we well knew, and had trembled before ere this. they admitted that their ranks were somewhat thinned by disease and death, and that they had scarce sufficient force both to maintain all the bastilles erected on the north side of the river and also to hold the great forts of les tourelles and les augustins on the south; but that when the reinforcements should arrive all would be well, and but for the marvellous power of the maid, they would have felt no doubt whatever as to the speedy reduction of the city either by assault or blockade. with the first golden shafts of sunlight came the maid once more, little charlotte beside her, both bearing in their hands such cooling drinks and light sustenance as the condition of the wounded men required. the maid wore the white, silver embroidered tunic and silken hose which queen yolande had provided for her indoor dress; she carried no arms, and her clustering curls framed her lovely face like a nimbus. all eyes were fixed upon her as upon a vision, and as she bent over each wounded man in turn, asking him of his welfare and holding a cup to his lips, i could see the amazement deepening in their eyes; and i am sure that they were well-nigh ready to worship the ground upon which she trod, so deep was the impression made upon them by her beauty and her gentle treatment. when she left the room i followed her at her sign, and asked: "then you go not forth to battle today, general?" "nay," she replied, "for today the church keeps the blessed feast of the ascension; which should be to all a day of peace and thanksgiving and holy joy. i am going forthwith to hear mass and receive the holy sacrament; and i would have my faithful knights about me. let us forget warfare and strife for this day." her own face was transfigured as she spoke. the light shone upon it all the time that she knelt before the high altar in the cathedral, rapt in a mystery of thanksgiving and heavenly joy. o how real it all was to her--those things which were to us articles of faith, grounds of hope, yet matters which seemed too far above us to arouse that personal rapture which was shining from the eyes and irradiating the whole face of the maid. it was a beautiful beginning to the day; and all the early hours were spent by the maid in meditation and prayer within the walls of the cathedral, where the people flocked, as perhaps they had never done before, to give thanks for the mercies received with the advent of the maid, and to gaze upon her, as she knelt in a trance of rapture and devotion in her appointed place not far from the altar. we, her knights, went to and fro, some of us always near to her, that the crowd might not too curiously press upon her when she went forth, or disturb her devotions by too close an approach. i noted that none of the generals appeared or took part in the acts of devotion that day. and as i issued forth into the sunny street at the close of the high mass, bertrand met me with a look of trouble and anger on his face. "they are all sitting in council of war together," he said, "and they have not even told her of it, nor suffered her to join them! how can they treat her so--even dunois and la hire--when they have seen again and yet again how futile are all plans made by their skill without the sanction of her voice? it makes my gorge rise! do they think her a mere beautiful image, to ride before them and carry a white banner to affright the foe? it is a shame, a shame, that they should treat her so, after all that they have seen and heard!" i was as wroth as bertrand, and as full of surprise. even now, looking back after all these years, the blindness of these men of war astonishes and exasperates me. they had seen with their own eyes what the maid could accomplish; again and again she had proved herself the abler in counsel as in fight; and yet they now deliberately desired to set her aside from their councils, and only inform her of their decisions when made, and permit her to take a share in the fighting they had planned. bertrand was furiously angry. he led me up into a lofty turret which commanded a bird's-eye view of the whole city and its environs, and he pointed out that which the maid had declared she would straightway do, so soon as the feast of the ascension was over, and how the generals were about to follow a quite different course. orleans, as all men know, lies upon the right--the north--bank of the loire, and the country to the north was then altogether in the power of the english; wherefore they had built their great bastilles around the city upon that side without molestation, and were able to receive supplies from their countrymen without let or hindrance. but these bastilles were not the chiefest danger to the city, or rather i should say, it was not these which were the chiefest cause of peril, since no help could reach the garrison from that side. they looked to the country to the south to help them, and it was to stop supplies from reaching them by water or from the south that the english had long since crossed the river and had established themselves in certain forts along the south bank. of these, st. jean le blanc was one; but by far the most important and dangerous to the city were the two great towers commanding the bridge, whose names i have given before. let me explain how these great fortifications stood. les augustins had once been a convent, and it stood on the south bank, very near to the end of the bridge, guarding it securely from attack, and commanding the waterway and the approach to the city. les tourelles was an even stronger tower, constructed upon the very bridge itself, and menacing the town in formidable fashion. dunois had broken down the main portion of the bridge on the north side to prevent the advance into the city of the english from their tower; so it stood grimly isolated from either bank; for the permanent bridge at the south end had been destroyed to be replaced by a drawbridge which could rise or fall at will. and it was these towers of les augustins and les tourelles which had reduced the city to such straits by hindering the entrance of food supplies. moreover, from les tourelles great stone cannon balls had been hurled into the city in vast numbers, battering down walls and doing untold damage to buildings and their inhabitants. now it was evident to all that these fortresses must be taken if the city were to be relieved and the siege raised. but the maid, with her far-seeing eyes, had decreed that first the bastilles upon the north bank should be attacked and destroyed; and it was easy to follow her reasoning; "for," she said, "when the english are fiercely attacked there, they will, without doubt, yield up these lesser fortresses without a great struggle, concentrating themselves in force upon the left bank, where they think to do us most hurt. we shall then destroy their bastilles, so that they will have no place of shelter to fly back to; and then we shall fall upon them hip and thigh on the south side, and drive them before us as chaff before the wind. they must needs then disperse themselves altogether, having no more cover to hide themselves in; so will the enemies of the lord be dispersed, and the siege of orleans be raised." this was the plan she had confided to her own immediate attendants and staff the previous evening, and which bertrand repeated to me, gazing over the ramparts, and pointing out each fortress and bastion as it was named. but now the generals in council, without reference to the maid, had decreed something altogether different. what they desired to do was not to make any real or vigorous attack upon any of the english forts, but to feign an assault upon the towers on the south bank, and whilst the attention of the foe was thus engaged, get great quantifies of stores--all lying in readiness at hand--into the city, enough to last for a long while, and then quietly sit down behind the strong walls, and tire out the english, forcing them thus to retreat of their own accord! think of it! after all that had been promised, all that had been performed! to be content to shut ourselves in a well-provisioned town, and just weary out the patience of the foe! and, moreover, of a foe who expected daily reinforcements from the north, and who would be quite capable of exercising as much patience, and perhaps more daring than ourselves. even now my blood boils at the thought, and i find it hard to conceive how such men as dunois and la hire let themselves be led from their allegiance and confidence in the maid to listen to such counsel as this from her detractors, and those many lesser commanders who were sorely jealous of her success and influence. but so it was, not once nor twice, but again and again; though in action they were staunch to her, would follow her everywhere, rally round her standard, fly to her defence when danger threatened, and show themselves gallant soldiers and generous-hearted men, never denying her all her share of praise and honour. but when sitting in the council room, surrounded by officers and men of experience in war disposed to scorn the counsels of an unlettered girl, and scoff at her pretensions to military rule, they were invariably led away and overborne, agreeing to act without her sanction, or even contrary to her advice, notwithstanding their belief in her mission, and their trust in her power as a leader. the shades of evening had fallen in the treasurer's house before word was brought to the maid of the decision of the generals in council. we were sitting around her after supper; and she had fallen into a very thoughtful mood. the chevalier d'aulon had been called away, and now returned with a troubled face. he stood just within the doorway, as though half afraid to advance. the maid lifted her eyes to his and smiled. "do not fear to tell me your news, my kind friend. i know that your faithful heart is sore at the dishonour done to me; but let us not judge harshly. it is hard for men full of courage and fleshly power to understand how the lord works with such humble instruments. perchance, in their place, we should not be greatly different. "so they have refused my plan, and made one of their own. we are to attack the foe upon the south? is that agreed? and even so not with all our heart and strength?" d'aulon recoiled a step in amaze. "madame, that is indeed so--a feint upon the south bank has been decreed, whilst provisions are thrown into the city--" "yes, yes, i know. well, so be it. we will attack on the south bank. it must have come sooner or later, and if we fight with a will, the lord will be with us and uphold our cause. but, my friends, understand this, and let the men likewise understand it. there shall be no mockery of fighting. it shall be true and desperate warfare. let the generals decree what they will, the maid will lead her soldiers to victory! tomorrow les augustins shall be ours; upon the next day les tourelles shall fall--" she paused suddenly and turned towards bertrand. "what day will that be--the day after to-morrow?" "the seventh day of may," he answered at once. "ah!" she said, "then it will be on that day--the day which shall see orleans relieved--the power of the english broken." she spoke dreamily, and only madame boucher, who sat in the shadows with her child upon her lap, ventured to ask of her: "what will be on that day, gentle jeanne?" "that i shall be wounded," she answered quietly. "did i not tell you long since," turning to bertrand and me, "that i should not come unscathed through the assault; but that on a certain day i should receive a wound?" i pulled out my tablets, upon which i often recorded the sayings of the maid, and sure enough there it was written down as she said. we felt a great burning revolt at the thought of any hurt befalling her, and somebody spoke vehemently, saying that the holy saints would surely protect her from harm. but she lifted her hand with her gentle authority of gesture, and spoke: "nay, my kind friends, but thus it must needs be; nor would i have it otherwise. listen, and i will tell you all. i often had my days and hours of fear because this great work was put upon one so weak and ignorant as i, and it was long before i clearly understood that i was but the instrument in a mighty hand, and that power for all would be given me. then my fear left and great joy came; perhaps even some pride and haughtiness of spirit in that i had been chosen for such a task. "and then it was that my voices asked of me: 'jeanne, hast thou no fear?' "and i answered without pause, 'i fear nothing now.' "then st. catherine herself suddenly appeared to me in a great white light and said: 'child, thou art highly favoured of heaven; but the flesh is easily puffed up. and for this cause, and because it may be well that thou thyself and all men shall know that thou art but human flesh and blood, thou shalt not escape unscathed in warfare; but thou too shalt feel the sting of fiery dart, and know the scald of flowing blood.' "i bowed my head and made answer i would bear whatever my lord thought fit to lay upon me; and i asked if i might know when this thing would happen. it was not told me then; but later it was revealed to me; and i know that upon the seventh day of may i shall be wounded--" and she touched her right shoulder as she spoke, just below the neck. "but what matter will that be, when the siege of orleans shall be raised?" her face was aglow; nothing could touch her joy, not the insults of the proud generals, nor the knowledge of coming pain for herself. her thought was all of the mission entrusted to her; and so, though thwarted and set aside, she showed no petty anger, dreamed not of any paltry vengeance such as others might have dealt the soldiers, by refusing to march with them on the morrow. oh, no; hurt she might be--indeed we knew she was--her pain being for the dishonour done her lord in this disrespect of his messenger; but no thought of reprisal entered her head. she rose from her seat, and lifted the little charlotte in her strong young arms. "gentlemen, let us early to rest," she said, holding her head proudly, "for tomorrow a great work shall be done, and we must all have our share in it." chapter xii. how the maid raised the siege. to tell the tale of how les augustins was taken is but to tell again the tale of st loup. i know not precisely what instructions the lesser officers received, nor what they told their men. but whether from preconcerted arrangement that the attack was only to be a feint, or whether from the dash and energy of the english, it appeared at first as though the tide of war was rolling back in its old track, and that the prowess of the english as destined to win the day. for one thing the assault was commenced before the maid had crossed the river and could put herself at the head of the men. a large body of troops had been transported to the south side in boats during the night, under cover of darkness; and this was all very well; but they should have waited hen daylight came for the maid to march at their head, instead of which they sought to rush the fortress before ever she had appeared at all; and when we arrived at the river's bank, it was to see a furious battle raging round the base of les augustins, and ere we were half across the river, we saw only too plainly that the french were being badly beaten, were fleeing in all directions from the pursuing foe, and were making for the river bank once more as fast as their legs could carry them. the maid watched it all, with that strange, inscrutable look upon her face, and that battle light in her eyes which we were all learning to know. she was sitting upon her horse; for though a number of animals had been taken across in the night, no horse of hers had been so conducted, and we had led the creature with its rider into the great flat-bottomed boat; so that she was on a higher level than the rest of us, and could better see what was passing, though it was plain to all that our soldiers were getting badly beaten. "o foolish children, silly sheep!" murmured the maid as she watched, "and yet you are not to blame, but those who lead you. when will they understand? when will they believe?" we reached the shore, and the maid, without waiting for any of us to mount or form a bodyguard round her, leaped her horse to the bank, and charged up it, her pennon flying, her eyes alight with the greatness of her purpose. but even as she climbed the slippery bank, a great rush of flying soldiers met her, and by their sheer weight forced back horse and rider almost to the river's brink before they were aware who or what it was. then her silver trumpet voice rang out. she called upon them to reform, to follow her. she cried that her lord would give them the victory, and almost before we who had accompanied her had formed into rank for the charge, the flying, panic-stricken men from the front, ashamed and filled with fresh ardour, had turned themselves about, closed up their scattered ranks, and were ready to follow her whithersoever she might lead them. yet it was to no speedy victory she urged them. no angel with a flaming sword came forth to fight and overcome as by a miracle. but it was enough for that white-clad figure to stand revealed in the thickest of the carnage to animate the men to heroic effort. as i say, it was the story of st. loup over again; but if anything the fighting was more severe. what the generals had meant for a mere feint, the maid turned into a desperate battle. the english were reinforced many times; it seemed as though we had a hopeless task before us. but confidence and assurance of victory were in our hearts as we saw our deliverer stand in the thick of the fight and heard her clarion voice ringing over the field. ere the shades of night fell, not only was les augustins ours, but its stores of food and ammunition had been safely transported into the city, and the place so destroyed and dismantled that never again could it be a source of peril to the town. and now the maid's eyes were fixed full upon the frowning bulk of les tourelles, rising grim and black against the darkening sky, with its little "tower of the boulevard," on this side the drawbridge. thither had the whole english force retired--all who were not lying dead or desperately wounded on the plain or round the gutted tower of les augustins--we saw their threatening faces looking down fiercely upon us, and heard the angry voices from the walls, heaping abuse and curses upon the "white witch," who had wrought them this evil. "would that we could attack at once!" spoke the maid. "would that the sun would stay his course! truly i do believe that we should carry all before us!" the leaders came up to praise and glorify her prowess. they heard her words, but answered how that the men must needs have a night's rest ere they tried this second great feat of arms. but, they added, there should be no going back into the city, no delay on the morrow in crossing the river. it was a warm summer-like night. provisions were abundant, shelter could be obtained beneath the walls of the captured citadel. they, with the bulk of the army, would remain on the south bank for the nonce, and the maid should return to the city with the convoys of wounded, to spend a quiet night there, returning with the dawn of the morrow to renew the attack and take les tourelles. thus they spoke, and spoke suavely and courteously. but i did note a strange look in the eyes of the maid; and i wondered why it was that dunois, the speaker, grew red and stumbled over his words, whilst that la hire, who had done a giant's work in the fighting that day, ground his teeth and looked both ashamed and disturbed. the maid stood a brief while as though in doubt. but then she made quiet reply: "then, gentlemen, it shall be as you will. i will return to the city for the night. but with the dawn of day i will be here, and les tourelles shall be ours. the siege of orleans shall be raised!" they bowed low to her; every one of them made obeisance. yet was there something ironical in the very humility of some? i could not tell; yet my heart burned within me as i followed our mistress; and never had i known her so silent as she was upon our journey back, or as we sat at supper, the rest of us telling of the day's doings, but the maid speechless, save when she bent her head to answer some eager question of little charlotte's, or to smile at her childish prattle. suddenly the door was flung open, and sir guy strode in with a face like a thundercloud. behind him came a messenger sent by the generals to the maid, and this was the news he brought: there had been a council held after dark, and it was then unanimously agreed that all now had been done that was necessary. the city was provisioned, the power of the english had been greatly weakened and broken. the army would now be content with the triumphs already won, and would quietly await further reinforcements before taking any fresh step. the man who brought this message faltered as he delivered it. the maid sat very still and quiet, her head lifted in a dignified but most expressive disdain. "monsieur," she replied, when the envoy ceased speaking, "go back to those who sent you. tell them that they have had their council and i have had mine. i leave the city at dawn as i have said. i return not to it till the siege has been raised." the man bowed and retired confusedly. the maid lifted the little child in her arms, as was her wont, to carry her to bed. she turned to her chaplain as she did so: "come to me at dawn, my father, to hear my confession; and i pray you accompany me upon the morrow; for my blood will be shed. but do not weep or fear for me, my friends, nor spread any banquet for me ere i start forth upon the morrow; but keep all for my return in the evening, when i will come to you by the bridge." she was gone as she spoke, and we gazed at her and each other in amaze; for how could she come back by a bridge which had been destroyed, and how did she brook such slights as were heaped upon her without showing anger and hurt pride? "and there is worse yet to come!" cried sir guy in a fury of rage, "for i lingered behind to hear and see. if you will believe it, there are numbers and numbers of the lesser officers who would desire that the maid should now be told that her work is done, and that she can retire to her home in domremy; that the king will come himself with another reinforcing army to raise the siege, so that they may get rid of her, and take the glory to themselves whenever the place shall be truly relieved. could you believe such folly, such treachery?" we could not; we could scarce believe our ears, and right glad was i to hear how that la hire had had no part in this shameful council; and i hope that dunois had not either, though i fear me he was less staunch. la hire had returned to the city to seek to infuse into the citizens some of the spirit of the maid. he was always for bold attack, and would be ready on the morrow, we did not doubt, for whatever might betide. it was little after dawn when we rode forth, the maid in her white armour at our head, carrying her small pennon, whilst d'aulon bore the great white standard close behind. her face was pale and rapt. none of us spoke to her, and pasquerel, her good chaplain, rode behind telling his beads as he went. we reached the burgundy gate; and behold it was fast shut. at the portal stood de gaucourt, a notable warrior, with a grim look about his mouth. the maid saluted him courteously, and quietly bid him open the gate. but he budged not an inch. "madam," he said, "i have my commands from the generals of the army. the gate is to remain shut. no one is to be suffered to pass forth today." we understood in a moment. this was a ruse to trap the maid within the city walls. our hands were upon the hilts of our swords. at a word from her, they would have flashed forth, and de gaucourt would have been a dead man had he sought to hinder us in the opening of the gate. but the maid read our purpose in our eyes and in our gestures, and she stayed us by her lifted hand. "not so, my friends," she answered gravely, "but the chevalier de gaucourt will himself order the opening of the gate. i have to ride through it and at once. my lord bids it!" her eyes flashed full and suddenly upon him. we saw him quiver from head to foot. with his own hands he unlocked the gate, and it seemed to swing of its own accord wide open before us. the maid bent her head in gracious acknowledgment, swept through and was off to the river like a flash of white lightning. the river lay golden in the glory of the morning. the boats which had transported us across last night bore us bravely over now. i know not how the generals felt when they saw the maid, a dazzling vision of brightness, her great white standard close behind, her phalanx of knights and gentlemen in attendance, gallop up to the scene of action, from which they thought they had successfully banished her. i only know that from the throats of the soldiers there arose a deafening shout of welcome. they at least believed in her. they looked to her as to none else. they would follow her unwaveringly, when no other commander could make them budge. a yell that rent the very firmament went up at sight of her, and every man seized his arms and sprang to his post, as though inspired by the very genius of victory. "courage, my children, forward! the day shall be ours!" she cried, as she took her place at the head of the formidable charge against the walls which frowned and bristled with the pikes and arrows of the english. her voice, like a silver clarion, rang clear through the din of the furious battle which followed: "bon coeur, bonne esperance, mes enfants, the hour of victory is at hand! de la part de dieu! de la part de dieu!" that was her favourite battle cry! it was god who should give the victory. but it was no easy victory we were to win that day. the english fought with the energy of despair. they knew as well as we that when les tourelles fell the siege would be raised. true they had their bastilles upon the north side of the river to fall back upon, since the maid's counsel of destruction had not been followed. but once dislodged from the south bank, and orleans would lie open to the support of her friends in the south, and the position of the english army would be one of dire peril. for now the french were no more cowed by craven fear of the power of their enemies. they had found them capable of defeat and overthrow; the spell was broken. and it was the maid who had done it! oh, how we fought around her that day! she was on foot now, for the banks of the moat were slippery, and the press around the walls was too great to admit easily of the tactics of horsemen. i never saw her strike at any foe. it was her pennon rather than her sword in which she trusted. here was the rallying point for the bravest and most desperate of the assailants, ever in the thickest of the strife, ever pointing the way to victory. it was the tower of the boulevard against which we were directing our attack. if that fell, les tourelles itself must needs follow, isolated as it would then be in the midst of the river. we did not know it then, but we were to learn later, that la hire in the city with a great band of citizens and soldiers to help him, was already hard at work constructing a bridge which should carry him and his men across to les tourelles, to take the english in the rear, whilst their attention was concentrated upon our work on the other side. no wonder that the clash and din was something deafening, that the boom of the great cannon ceased not; smoke and fire seemed to envelop the walls of the towers; the air was darkened by clouds of arrows; great stones came crashing into our midst. men fell on every side; we had much ado to press on without treading under foot the dead and dying; but the white pennon fluttered before us, and foot by foot we crept up towards the base of the tower. victory! victory! was the cry of our hearts. we were close to the walls now--the maid had seized a ladder, and with her own hands was setting it in position, when--o woe! woe!--a great cloth-yard shaft from an english bow, tipped with iron and winged with an eagle's plume, struck upon that white armour with such crashing force that a rent was made in its shining surface, and the maid was borne to the ground. oh, the terrible fear of that moment! the yell of triumph and joy which arose from the walls of the fortress seemed to turn my blood into liquid fire. the english had seen the fall of our champion. they shouted like men drunk with victory! they knew well enough that were she dead, they would drive back the french as sheep are driven by wolves. i had been close beside the maid for hours; for i never forgot what she had spoken about being wounded that day; yet when she fell i had been parted from her a brief space, by one of those battle waves too strong for resistance. but now i fought my way to her side with irresistible fury, though there was such a struggling press all about her that i had much ado to force my way through it. but i was known as one of her especial personal attendants, and way was made for me somehow; yet it was not i who was the first to render her assistance. when i arrived, de gamache was holding her in his arms; someone had removed her headpiece, and though her face was as white as the snowy plumes, her eyes were open, and there was a faint brave smile upon her lips. de gamache had his horse beside him, his arm slipped through the reins. "my brave general," he said, as the maid looked in his face, "let me lift you to my saddle and convey you to a place of safety. i have done you wrong before; but i pray you forgive me, and bear no malice; for i am yours till death. never was woman so brave." "i should be wrong indeed to bear malice against any, my good friend," spoke the maid, in her gentle tones, "above all against one so courteous, so brave." we lifted her upon the horse. we formed a bodyguard round her. we drew her out of the thick of the press, for once unresisting; and we laid her down in a little adjacent vineyard, where the good pasquerel came instantly, and knelt beside her offering prayers for her recovery. but the great arrow had pierced right through her shoulder, and stood out a handbreadth upon the other side. we had sent for a surgeon; but we dreaded to think of the pain she must suffer; must be suffering even now. her face was white; her brow was furrowed. but suddenly, as we stood looking at her in dismay, she sat up, took firm hold of the cruel barb with her own hands, and drew it steadily from the wound. was ever courage like hers? as the blood came gushing forth, staining her white armour red, she uttered a little cry and her lips grew pale. yet i think the cry was less from pain than to see the marring of her shining breastplate; and the tears started to her eyes. never before had this suffered hurt; the sight of the envious rent hurt her, i trow, as much as did the smart of her wound. the surgeon came hurrying up, and dressed the wound with a pledget of linen steeped in oil; and the maid lay very white and still, almost like one dying or dead, so that we all held our breath in fear. in sooth, the faintness was deathlike for awhile, and she did beckon to her priest to come close to her and receive her confession, whilst we formed round her in a circle, keeping off all idle gazers, and standing facing away from her, with bent, uncovered heads. was it possible that her lord was about to take her from us, her task yet unfulfilled? it was hard to believe it, and yet we could not but fear; wherefore our hearts were heavy within us during that long hour which followed. and the battle? it was raging still, but the heart of it seemed to be lacking. the english were crying out that the white witch was dead, taunting their foes with being led by a woman, and asking them where she was gone to now. dunois came hurrying up for news of her. the maid roused herself and beckoned to him to come to her where she lay, and asked him of the battle. dunois told her that the courage of the men seemed failing, that he thought of sounding the retreat. for a few moments she lay still; her eyes bent full upon the blinding blue of the sunny sky. then she spoke: "sound no retreat, my general," she spoke, "but give the men a breathing space. let them draw off for a brief moment. let them eat and drink and refresh themselves. tell them that i will come to them again; and when you and they see my standard floating against the wall, then know by that token that the place is yours." dunois went his way, and soon the sound of the struggle ceased. there came a strange hush in the heat of the noontide hours. the maid lay still a while longer; then raising herself, asked that water should be brought to cleanse away all stains from her hands and face and her white armour. that being done she called to d'aulon and said to him: "take the great standard; plant it again upon the edge of the moat; and when the silken folds touch the tower wall, call and tell me; and you, my knights and gentlemen, be ready to follow me to victory!" did we doubt her ability, wounded as she was, to lead us? not one whit. we looked to our arms; we stood silently beside her. we watched d'aulon move quietly forward to the appointed place, and unfold the great white banner, which hung down limply in the sultry heat of the may afternoon. he stood there, and we stood beside the maid a great while; she lay upon the heap of cloaks which had been spread to form a couch for her; her hands were clasped and her eyes closed as though in prayer. then a little puff of wind arose, followed by another, and yet another--soft, warm wind, but we saw the folds of the banner begin to unfurl. little by little the breeze strengthened; breathlessly we watched the gradual lifting of the silken standard, till, with an indescribably proud motion--as though some spirit was infused into the lifeless silk--it launched itself like a living thing against the tower wall. "it touches! it touches!" cried d'aulon. "it touches! it touches!" we shouted in response. "it touches! it touches!" came an echoing wave sound from the soldiers watching from their resting places. the maid was on her feet in a moment. where was the weakness, the feebleness, the faintness of the wounded girl? all gone--all swallowed up in the triumph of the victorious warrior. "onward! onward, my children. onward, de la part de dieu! he has given you the victory! onwards and take the tower! nothing can resist you now!" her voice was heard all over the field. the white folds of the banner still fluttered against the wall, the white armour of the maid shone dazzling in the sunshine as she dashed forward. the army to a man sprang forward in her wake with that rush, with that power of confidence against which nothing can stand. the english shrieked in their astonishment and affright. the dead had come to life! the white witch, struck down as they thought by mortal wound, was charging at the head of her armies. the french were swarming up the scaling ladders, pouring into their tower, carrying all before them. fighting was useless. nothing remained but flight. helter skelter, like rabbits or rats, they fled this way and that before us. not an englishman remained upon the south side of the river. the french flag waved from the top of the tower. the seven months' siege was raised by the maid eight days after her entrance into the city. chapter xiii. how the maid won a new name. "entrez, entrez--de la part de dieu--all is yours!" thus spoke the maid, as we rushed the tower of the boulevard, the english flying this way and that before us. the maid found herself face to face with the commander--that sir william glasdale, who had called her vile names a few days before, and had promised to burn her for a witch if once she fell into his hands. but she had no ill words for him, as she saw him, sword in hand, seeking to make a last stand upon the drawbridge leading to les tourelles. "now yield you, classidas," she said; "i bear you no ill will. i have great pity for your soul. yield you, and all shall be well." but he would not listen; his face was black like a thundercloud, and with his picked bodyguard of men, he retreated backwards, sword in hand, upon the bridge, seeking to gain the other tower, not knowing its desperate condition, and hoping there to make a last stand. but he was not destined to achieve his end. suddenly the bridge gave way beneath his feet, and he and his men were all precipitated into the water. it looked to us as though a miracle had been wrought before our eyes; as though the gaze of the maid had done it. but the truth was afterwards told us, that a fire ship from the city had been sent across and had burned the bridge, cutting off the retreat of the english that way. and now we heard the din of battle going on within les tourelles; for la hire had crossed the repaired bridge with a gallant band of soldiers, and our men, hearing the shouts of their comrades, and the cries of the trapped english, flung themselves into boats, or swam over, sword in mouth, anything to get to the scene of the fray; whilst others set to work with planks, and whatever they could lay hands upon, to mend the broken drawbridge that they might swarm across into les tourelles and join in the final act of victory, that should free orleans from the iron grip in which she had been held so long. but the face of the maid was troubled, as she looked into the dark water which had closed over the head of glasdale and his men. she had seized upon a coil of rope; she stood ready to fling it towards them when they rose; but encased as they were in their heavy mail, there was no rising for them. long did she gaze into the black, bloodstained water; but she gazed in vain; and when she raised her eyes, i saw that they were swimming in tears. "i would we might have saved them," she spoke, with a little catch in her voice, "i have such great pity for their souls!" these were the first words i heard the maid speak after her wonderful victory had been won; and whilst others went hither and thither, mad or drunk with joy, she busied herself about the wounded, making no distinction betwixt friend or foe, sending urgent message into the city for priests to come forth and bring the last sacraments with them, and so long as there were any dying to be confessed or consoled, or wounded to be cared for and transported into the city, she seemed to have no thought for aught beside. thankful joy was indeed in her heart, but her tender woman's pity was so stirred by sights of suffering and death that for the moment she could think of nothing else. thus the daylight faded, and we began to think of return. how shall i describe the sight which greeted our eyes in the gathering dusk, as we looked towards the city? one might have thought that the english had fired it, so bright was the glare in which it was enveloped; but we knew better. bonfires were blazing in every square, in every open place. nay, more, from the very roofs of tower and church great pillars of flame were ascending to the heavens. joy bells had rung before this, but never with such a wild jubilation, such a clamour of palpitating triumph. the city had gone mad in its joy--and it was no marvel--and all were awaiting the return of the maid, to whom this miraculous deliverance was due. eight days--eight days of the maid--and the seven-months' siege was raised! was it wonderful they should hunger for her presence amongst them? was it wonderful that every house should seek to hang out a white banner in honour of the angelic maid, and her pure whiteness of soul and body? "i will come to you by the bridge," had been her own word; and now, behold, the bridge was there! like trojans had the men worked beneath the eagle eyes of la hire. an army had already crossed from the city; now that their task was done, the maid's white charger had been led across, and the cry was all for her, for her; that she should let the people see her alive and well, now that her task was accomplished and orleans was free! she let us mount her upon her horse, and d'aulon marched in front with the great white standard. weary and white and wan was she, with the stress of the fight, with the pain and loss of blood from her wound, above all, with her deep, unfailing pity for the sufferings she had been forced to witness, for the souls gone to their last account without the sacred offices of the church. all this weighed upon her young spirit, and gave a strange, ethereal loveliness to her pale face and shining eyes. methought she seemed almost more like some angelic presence in our midst than a creature of human flesh and blood. the generals formed an advance guard before her. the soldiers followed, rank behind rank, in the rear. we of her household rode immediately in her wake, ready to protect her, if need be, from the too great pressure of the crowd. and so we crossed the hastily-repaired bridge, and entered by the bride gate--or st. catherine's gate, as it was equally called; for a figure of st. catherine stands carved in a niche above the porch, and i saw the maid glance upwards at it as she passed through, a smile upon her lips. shall i ever forget the thunder of applause which fell upon our ears as we passed into the city through the bridge? it was like the "sound of many waters"--deafening in volume and intensity. and was it wonder? had not something very like a miracle been wrought? for had not rumours reached the city many times that day of the death of the deliverer in the hour of victory? none well knew what to believe till they saw her in their midst, and then the cry which rent the heavens was such as methinks is heard but once in a lifetime. i know not who first spoke the words; but once spoken, they were caught up by ten thousand lips, and the blazing heavens echoed them back in great waves of rolling sound: "the maid of orleans! the maid of orleans! welcome, honour, glory, praise to the maid of orleans!" the people were well-nigh mad with joy; they rushed upon her to kiss her hands, her knees, the folds of her banner, the neck or the flanks of her horse. in the red glare of the hundred bonfires the whiteness of her armour seemed to take a new lustre. the rent upon the shoulder could be plainly seen, showing where the arrow had torn its way. women sobbed aloud as they looked; men cursed the hand which had shot the bolt; all joined in frantic cheers of joy to see her riding alone, erect and smiling, though with a dreamy stillness of countenance which physical lassitude in part accounted for. "i thank you, my friends, i thank you," she kept saying, as though no other words would come, save when now and again she would add, "but to god must you give your thanks and blessings. it is he who has delivered you." it was not far to the house of the treasurer, and there in the threshold stood the little charlotte, a great wreath of bay and laurel in her tiny hands. she was lifted up in her father's strong arms, and ere the maid was able to dismount from her horse the little one had placed the triumphal wreath upon her fair head. o, what a shout arose! it was like the mighty burst of some great thunderstorm. the maid, blushing now at the tumult of applause, stretched out her arms, took the little one into them, and held her in a close embrace whilst she bowed her last graceful thanks to the joy-maddened crowd. then she slipped from her horse, and holding the little one fast by the hand, disappeared into the house, whilst the people reluctantly dispersed to hear the story all over again from the soldiers pouring in, each with some tale of his own to tell of the prowess of the maid of orleans. yes, that was the name by which she was henceforth to be known. the city was wild with joy and pride thus to christen her. and she, having crossed by the bridge, as she had said, sat down for a brief while to that festal board which had been spread for her. but fatigue soon over-mastering her, she retired to her room, only pausing to look at us all and say: "tomorrow is the lord's own day of rest. remember that, my friends. let there be no fighting, no pursuit, no martial exercise, whatever the foe may threaten or do. tomorrow must be a day of thanksgiving and praise. look to it that my words are obeyed." they said she slept like a child that night; yet with the early light of day she was up, kneeling in the cathedral with her household beside her, listening to the sound of chant and prayer, receiving the holy sacrament, the pledge of her lord's love. not until we had returned from that first duty did she listen to what was told her anent the movements of the english. they were drawn up in battle array upon the north side of the river, spoke those who had gone to the battlements to look. thinned as were their ranks, they were still a formidable host, and from the menace of their attitude it might be that they expected the arrival of reinforcements. would it not be well, spoke la hire, to go forth against them at once, whilst the soldiers' hearts were flushed with victory, whilst the memory of yesterday's triumphs was green within them? but the maid, hitherto all in favour of the most dashing and daring policy, answered now, with a shake of the head: "it is sunday, my generals," she replied; "the day of my lord. the day he has hallowed to his service." she paused a moment, and added, quite gently, and without reproach, "had you acted as i did counsel, the english would now have had no footing on the north side of the river; they must needs have fled altogether from the neighbourhood of the city. nevertheless, my lord is merciful. he helps, though men hinder his designs. let no man stir forth with carnal weapons against the foe this day. we will use other means to vanquish them." then turning to me, she bid me go to the bishop, and ask him to give her audience; and shortly she was ushered into his presence, and we waited long for her to reappear. how shall i tell of the wonderful scene which the sun looked down upon that bright may morning, when the purpose of the maid became fully revealed to us? even now it seems rather as a dream, than as an incident in a terrible war. out upon the level plain, in full sight of the city, in full view of the serried ranks of the english army, a great white altar was set up. the army from orleans marched out and stood bareheaded beneath the walls, unarmed by order of the maid, save for the small weapon every man habitually carried at his belt, citizen as well as soldier. the townspeople flocked to the walls, or out into the plain, as pleased them best; and from the renart gate there issued forth a grave and sumptuous procession; the bishop in his vestments, accompanied by all the ecclesiastics within the city walls, each of them robed, attended by acolytes swinging censers, the incense cloud ascending through the sunny air, tapers swaying in the breeze, their light extinguished by the brilliance of the sunshine. the maid in her white tunic, with a white mantle over her shoulders, followed with bent head, leading the little charlotte by the hand succeeded by her household. and there, in the sight of the rival armies, high mass was celebrated by the bishop, both armies kneeling devoutly, and turning towards the altar as one man. never have i witnessed such a scene. never shall i witness such another. the mass over, the procession filed back through the gate, both armies kneeling motionless till it had disappeared. then the maid rose, and we with her, and followed her in its wake, and the french army, in perfect order, re-entered the city by the appointed gates, as had been ordered. one hour later and the maid sent d'aulon up to the battlements to look what the english army was doing. he returned to say that they were still drawn up in rank as before. "which way are their faces?" she asked. "their faces are turned away from the city," was the reply. the countenance of the maid brightened with a great light. "then let them go, a part de dieu!" she answered. "my god, i thank thee for this great grace!" and so, without further battle or bloodshed, the english army marched away from orleans; and upon the next morning not a man of the foe was left; and the citizens pouring out from the town, destroyed, with acclamations of joy, those great bastilles, which had so long sheltered the foe and threatened the safety of the city. it was a day ever to be remembered. the bells pealed ceaselessly, the houses were decked with garlands, white banners or silken pennons floated everywhere, the townsfolk arrayed themselves in holiday garb, and poured out through the gates to wander at will over the plain, so lately held by the english. gladness and the wonder of a great relief was stamped upon every face, and constantly songs of triumph arose or thunders of applause, of which the burden always was--the maid of orleans! the maid of orleans! they would have kept her with them for ever, if it might so have been. they talked wildly, yet earnestly, of building her a palace, where she should live at ease all the rest of her days, the object of universal admiration and homage. but the maid listened to such words, when repeated to her, with a dreamy smile. her wound required rest; and for two days she consented to remain quiet in the house of the treasurer, lying for the most part upon a couch in a great cool chamber, with the little charlotte for her companion and playfellow. she sometimes rose and showed herself at a window in answer to the tumultuous shoutings of the crowd without; and she received with pleasure some great baskets and bouquets of flowers which the wives and children of the citizens had culled for her. but she gently put aside all suggestions of rewards for herself, which some would fain have bestowed upon the deliverer, and which men of all ranks were but too ready to claim and receive for service rendered. "i have all that i want, myself--and more," she said; "if any would offer gifts, let them be thank offerings to the lord. let the poor receive alms, let masses be sung for the souls of those killed in the war; but for me--i want nothing but the love of the people of france. i am come to do the will of my lord. i ask only his approving smile." and all the while she was eagerly desirous to return to the king, and urge upon him the need to repair instantly to rheims, and there receive his crown. to her he was not truly king till he had been anointed as such. she knew that the blow to the english arms just struck must have a paralysing effect upon their forces, and that a rapid march with even a small army would be accomplished without resistance, if only it were quickly made. i need not say that the city of rheims lay in the very heart of territory owning the english sway. to reach that city we must perforce march right through a hostile country, garrisoned by the enemy. but of that the maid made light. "the hearts of the people will turn towards us," she said. "they have submitted to the english yoke; but they are frenchmen still. once let them see that the power of the enemy is broken, and they will rally to our standard. but precious time should not be lost. the dauphin should place himself at the head of such an army as he can spare for the march, and journey forthwith to rheims. there shall the crown be set upon his head--the pledge and earnest that one day he shall rule the whole realm of france, as his fathers did before him!" and so, before a week had passed, we set forth with the maid to go to the king, who had by this time moved his court from chinon to loches, another fortress upon the loire, where there was space for his train, and which could, if necessary, be fortified against a siege. it was a strange journey--more like a triumphal progress than anything we had yet met with. the fame of the maid and her miraculous exploit in the matter of the siege of orleans had gone before her, and from every town or village through which she passed the people flocked out to see her, bearing garlands and banners, crowding about her, asking her blessing, seeking to touch her, pouring out blessings and praises, so that the heart of anyone less filled with the humility which comes from above must needs have been altogether puffed up and filled with pride. but it was never so with the maid. her gentle courtesy and devout humility never failed her. lovingly and gratefully she received love and affection, but praise and honour she set aside, bidding all remember that to god alone belonged the issues from death, and that she was but an instrument in his mighty hands. we wondered how she would be received at the court, and whether la tremouille and her other adversaries had been convinced of her divine mission, and would now remove all opposition. as we approached the fortress we saw that flags were floating from every tower; that the place wore a festive aspect, and that the town was pouring out to welcome us and gaze upon the maid. then, with a great fanfare of trumpets, the gates of the fortress were flung wide open, and forth came a gay procession, in the midst of which, we could not doubt, rode the king himself. yes, there was no doubt of it. the crowd parted this way and that, and we saw how the young king himself was marching towards us, and at the sight of the maid, not only did every courtier in the train uncover, but the king himself bared his head, and bowed low to the maid of orleans. she was off her horse in a moment, kneeling at his feet; but he raised her instantly, held her hands in his, gave her thanks with true emotion in face and voice, and, turning to her brothers, who rode amongst us of her household, he cried to them in loud tones, saying how he had decreed that the family of the d'arcs should henceforth have the right to quarter the hues of france on their arms! an empty honour, perhaps, to simple peasants; and yet an honour that the proudest families in the land might envy! they carried her into the fortress. the two queens and the ladies of the court knew not how to make enough of her. they seemed to think that our coming must be regarded as the signal for an outburst of merrymaking and carousing, such as the king found so much to his liking. it amazed us to find him still wrapped in idle luxury, joyful, it is true, over the relief of orleans, over the discomfiture of the english; but as indisposed as ever to take the field himself, or to put himself at the head of an army and march to his coronation as the maid instantly urged him. "gentle dauphin, the lord would have you king of your realm; he would set the crown upon your head. he has smitten your enemies and scattered them. then wherefore not do his will and march to the appointed spot? all will be well if you but follow his counsels." "but, maiden, i have so few troops; and i have no money; and the way lies through a hostile land," the king would urge, when day after day she pleaded with him. "all my counsellors advise delay. is it not right that i should listen to them as well as to you? wherefore such haste? is it not wiser to act with deliberation and prudence?" "it is right to follow the voice of the lord," spoke the maid with grave and forceful earnestness, "and to put your trust in him rather than in any child of man." but the king could not be persuaded; indolence and fear held him captive, whilst his traitorous advisers sought by every means to undermine the influence of the maid. and although in this they were not successful, for he believed in her mission, admired her prowess, and looked to her for guidance and help, he must needs listen also to these others who were of contrary mind, and so the weary days dragged on, and nothing was done. "noble dauphin," pleaded the maid at last, "hold not such long or so many councils; or if, indeed, these be needful to you, let me, i pray you, go forth again with a small army and clear the way. and when all the country betwixt this place and rheims has submitted to your power, then follow yourself, and take your kingdom!" ah me!--to think that he, a king, could consent again to let her go thus, whilst he remained in ease and indolence surrounded by his court! but so it was. what she could not persuade him to do himself, she at last obtained leave to do for him, and with a joyful face she came to us with the news: "gentlemen and my good comrades, be ready for a speedy march; we will go forward and clear the way; and afterwards the dauphin shall follow and be made king!" chapter xiv. how the maid cleared the king's way. we started forth from selles, where the army which was to do this work had assembled. it was not so great a force as it would have been but for the hesitations of the king, and the delays imposed by his council. for the men who had marched from orleans, flushed with victory, eager to rush headlong upon the foe and drive them back to their own shores, had grown weary of the long waiting, and had been infected by the timidity or the treachery of those about the court. they had melted away by little and little, carrying with them the booty they had found in the english bastilles round orleans, glad to return to their homes and their families without further fighting, though had the maid been permitted to place herself at their head at once, as she did desire, they would have followed her to the death. still, when all was said and done, it was a gallant troop that responded to her call and mustered at her summons. the magic of her name still thrilled all hearts, and throughout the march of events which followed, it was always the common soldiers who trusted implicitly in the maid; they left doubts and disputings and unworthy jealousies to the officers and the statesmen. the maid went forth with a greater glory and honour than has, methinks, ever been bestowed upon woman before--certainly upon no humbly-born maiden of seventeen years. some said that she was actually ennobled in her own person by the grant to quarter the lilies of france, and that her brothers ranked now amongst the knights and nobles. others declared that she had refused all personal honours, and that she still remained a humble peasant, though so high in the favour of the king, and so great a personage in the realm. as for me, i cared nothing for all this. to me she was always the angelic maid, heaven sent, miraculous, apart from the earth, though living amongst us and leading us on to victory. to the army she was--and that was enough. she was the companion and friend of princes, nobles, and knights; but she was never as others were. an atmosphere of sanctity seemed ever to encompass her. all who approached her did her unconscious homage. none could be with her long without being conscious that she was visited by sounds unheard by them, that her eyes saw sights to which theirs were closed. we were to have added witness to this in the days which followed. so here we were gathered at selles upon that bright june morning, just one month after the relief of orleans. the king had presented to the maid a great black charger; a mighty creature of immense strength and spirit, but with something of a wicked look in his rolling eyes which made me anxious as he was led forward. the maid in her white armour--its rent deftly mended, its silver brilliance fully restored--with her velvet white-plumed cap upon her head and a little axe in her hand, stood waiting to mount. but perhaps it was the gleaming whiteness of this slender figure that startled the horse, or else the cries and shouts of the populace at sight of the maid excited him to the verge of terror; for he reared and plunged so madly as his rider approached that it was with difficulty he was held by two stalwart troopers, and we all begged of the maid not to trust herself upon his back. she looked at us with a smile, and made a little courteous gesture with her hand; then turning to the attendants she said: "lead him yonder to the cross at the entrance to the church; i will mount him there." snorting and struggling, casting foam flakes from his lips, and fighting every inch of the way, the great charger was led whither the maid had said. but once arrived at the foot of the cross, he suddenly became perfectly quiet. he stood like a statue whilst the maid approached, caressed him gently with the hand from which she had drawn her mailed gauntlet, and, after speaking kindly words to him, vaulted lightly on his back. from that moment her conquest of the fierce creature was complete. he carried her throughout that wonderful week with a gentleness and docility, and an untiring strength which was beautiful to see. the brute creation owned her sway as well as did men of understanding, who could watch and weigh her acts and deeds. so, amid the plaudits of the people, the fanfare of trumpets, the rolling of drums, the rhythmical tread of thousands of mailed feet, we rode forth from selles, led by the maid, beside whom rode the king's cousin, the duc d'alencon, now resolved to join us, despite his former hesitancy and the fears of his wife. he had marched with us to orleans, but had then turned back, perhaps with the not unnatural fear of again falling into the hands of the english. this had happened to him at agincourt, and only lately had he been released. perhaps his fears were pardonable, and those of his wife more so. she had sought earnestly to hold him hack from this new campaign; and, when she could not prevail with him, she had addressed herself to the maid with tears in her eyes, telling her how long had been his captivity in england, and with how great a sum he had been ransomed. why must he adventure himself again into danger? the maid had listened to all with gentle sympathy. though so fearless herself she was never harsh to those who feared, and the appeal of the duchesse touched her. "fear nothing, madame," she answered, "i will bring him back to you safe and sound. only pray for him always--pray for us day and night. i will make his safety my special care. he shall return to you unharmed; but i pray you hinder him not from serving his country in this great hour of need." so the maid prevailed, and the duc was entrusted with the command of the army, second only to the maid herself, who was distinctly placed at the head of all--whose word was to be supreme; whilst the king's fiat went forth that no council should be held without her, and that she was to be obeyed as the head in all things! and men like dunois, la hire, and the chevalier gaucourt heard this without a murmur! think of it!--a campaign conducted by a girl of seventeen, who, until a few weeks before, had never seen a shot fired in her life! ah; but all men remembered orleans, and were not surprised at the king's decree. as we marched along in close array, we gathered many recruits by the way, notwithstanding that we were in the territory which had submitted to the english rule. knights and gentlemen flocked forth from many a chateau to join themselves to the army of the miraculous maid, whilst humble peasants, fired by patriotism and zeal, came nightly into our camp seeking to be enrolled amid those who followed and fought beneath her banner. and so for three days we marched, our ranks swelling, our hearts full of zeal and confidence, till news was brought us that the duke of suffolk, one of the bravest and most chivalrous of english knights and soldiers, had thrown himself and his followers into jargeau, and was hastily fortifying it for a siege. this news reached us at orleans itself, whither we had returned in the course of our march, to be received with wild acclamations by the people there. so loving were the citizens, that they were loth indeed to see the maid set forth upon any mission which threatened danger to herself or her army; and their protestations and arguments so wrought upon many of the generals and officers, that they united to beg her to remain inactive awhile, and send to the king for fresh reinforcements before attempting any such arduous task. the maid listened with her grave eyes wide in amazement. "you say this to me--here in orleans! you who have seen what my lord accomplished for us before! shame upon you for your lack of faith--for your unworthy thoughts. we march for jargeau at dawn tomorrow!" never before had we heard the maid speak with quite such severity of tone and word. her glorious eyes flashed with a strange lambent light. she looked every inch the ruler of men. all heads were bent before her. none dared speak a word to hinder her in her purpose. the morrow saw us before jargeau. its walls were strong, it was well supplied with those great guns that belched forth fire and smoke, and scattered huge stone balls against any attacking force. but we had brought guns with us--great pieces of ordnance, to set against the city walls, and the maid ordered these to be brought and placed in certain positions, never asking counsel, always acting on her own initiative, without hesitation and without haste, calm and serene; with that deep, farseeing gaze of hers turned from her own position to the city and back again, as though she saw in some miraculous vision what must be the end of all this toil. "mort de dieu!" cried la hire, forgetting in his wonder the loyally kept promise to swear only by his baton, "but the maid has nothing to learn in the art of gunnery! where hath she learnt such skill, such wisdom! we never had guns to place at orleans! where has the child seen warfare, that she places her artillery with the skill of a tried general of forces!" ah!--where had the maid learned her skill in any kind of warfare? had we not been asking this from the first? this was but another development of the same miracle. for my part i had ceased now to wonder at anything which she said or did. at daybreak on the morrow the roar of battle began. the air was shaken by the crash and thunder of the guns from both sides. but it was plain to all eyes how that the cunning disposition of our pieces, set just where they could deal most effectively with a weak point in the fortifications, or a gateway less capable than others of defence, were doing far more hurt to the enemy than their fire did to us. for the most part their balls passed harmlessly over our heads, and the clouds of arrows were for us the greater danger, though our armour protected us from over-much damage. but it was before jargeau that the incident happened, which so many writers have told of the maid and the duc d'alencon; how that she did suddenly call to him, nay more, drew him with her own hand out of the place where he had stood for some time near to her, saying in a voice of warning, "have a care, my lord, there is death at hand!" another young knight boldly stepped into that very position from which she had snatched alencon, and an instant afterwards his head was struck off by a cannon ball. the maid saw and covered her eyes for a moment with her mailed hand. "lord have mercy on that brave soul!" she whispered, "but why did he not heed the warning?" well, the fighting round jargeau was fierce and long; but the maid with her standard held stubbornly to the place beside the wall which she had taken up, and at sight of her, and at the sound of her clear, silvery voice, encouraging and commanding, the men came ever on and on, regardless of peril, till the scaling ladders were set, and through the breaches torn in the walls by the guns, our soldiers swarmed over into the town, shouting with the shout of those with whom is the victory. again the maid triumphed. again the hearts of the english melted within them at the sight of the white witch, as they would tauntingly call her, even whilst they cowered and fled before her. the french were swarming into the city; the great gates were flung open with acclamations of triumph; and the maid marched in to take possession, her white banner floating proudly before her, her eyes alight, her cheeks flushed. one of the young gentlemen not long since added to her household, guillame regnault by name, from auvergne, a very knightly youth, a favourite with us all, came striding up to the maid, and saluting with deep reverence, begged speech with her. she was never too much occupied to receive those who came to her, and instantly he had her ear. "my general," he said, "the duke of suffolk is close at hand. we pressed him hard, and it seemed as though he would die sword in hand, ere he would yield. but i did beg of him in his own tongues with which i am acquainted, not to throw away his noble life; whereupon he did look hard at me, pausing the while in thrust and parry, as all others did pause, for us to parley; and he said that he would give up his sword to the maid of orleans, and to none other. wherefore i did tell him that i would run and fetch her to receive his submission, or take him to her myself. but then his mind did change, and he said to me, 'are you noble?' so i told him that my family was noble, but that i had not yet won my knighthood's spurs. then forthwith did he uplift his sword, and i read his meaning in his eyes. i bent my knee, and there and then he dubbed me knight, and afterwards would have tendered me his sword, but i said, 'not so, gentle duke, but i hear by the sound of the silver trumpet that the maid, our general, is close at hand. suffer me to tell her of what has passed, and i trow that she will herself receive your sword at her hands.'" "you did well, sir guillame," spoke the maid, using the new title for the first time, whereat the youth's face kindled and glowed with pleasure. "bring the duke at once to me here. i will receive his surrender in person." truly it was a pretty sight to watch--the dignified approach of the stalwart soldier; tall, upright, a knightly figure in battered coat of mail; bleeding from several wounds, but undaunted and undauntable; and the slim, youthful white figure, with uncovered head, and a face regal in its dignity; and yet so full of sweet courtesy and honourable admiration for a beaten, yet noble foe. he gazed upon her with a great wonder in his eyes, and then, dropping upon one knee, tendered his sword to her, which the maid took, held in her hands awhile, deep in thought, and then, with one of her wonderfully sweet smiles, held out to him again. "gentle duke," she said, "it hath been told me that you are known in france as the english roland; and if so, i would be loth to deprive so noble a foe of his knightly weapon. keep it, then, and all i ask of you is that you use it no more against the soldiers of france. and now, if you will let my gentlemen lead you to my tent, your hurts shall be dressed, and you shall receive such tendance as your condition requires." but i may not linger over every incident of that march, nor all the achievements of the maid in the arts both of peace and of war. towns and castles surrendered at her summons, or flung wide their gates at the news of her approach. sometimes we fought, but more often the very sound of her name, or the sight of the white figure upon the great black horse was sufficient, and fortress after fortress upon the loire fell before her, the english garrisons melting away or marching out, unable or unwilling to try conclusions with so notable a warrior, who came, as it were, in the power of the king of heaven. and not only did she achieve triumphs in war's domains; she was equally victorious as a promoter of peace. for when the news was brought to us that the comte de richemont, constable of france, but hitherto inimical to the king, desired to join us with a body of men, the duc d'alencon would have sent him away with insult and refused his proffer of help; but the maid, with her gentle authority and reasonable counsel, brought him to a different frame of mind, and the constable was received with a fair show of graciousness. and although in the days which immediately followed his aid was not of great importance (for when france had the maid to fight for her she wanted none beside), yet in the time to come, when she was no longer there to battle for the salvation of her country, de richemont's loyal service to the king was of inestimable value, and had it not been for the maid at this juncture, he might have been lost for ever to the french cause. her generosity shone out the more in that de richemont was no friend to her; indeed, he had regarded her as little better than a witch before he came under the magic of her personality. his greeting to her was rough and blunt. "maiden," he said, "they tell me that you are against me, and that you are a witch. i know not whether you are from god or not. if you are from him, i do not fear you. if you are from the devil, i fear you still less." she looked him full in the face, gravely at first, but with a smile kindling deep down in her eyes. then she held out her hand in token of amity. "brave constable, this is well spoken. you have no cause to fear me. you are not here by my will, it is true; for i have enough men with me to do the will of my lord; but since you have come for love of the dauphin, who soon must be crowned king, you are welcome indeed; and i know that you will live to serve him faithfully, though in the present you have foes at court who turn his heart from you." so again she saw what lay beyond our ken, and which the future has brought to light. alas, that she never saw the day when the king threw off his supine fear and idleness, and played the man in the conquest of his kingdom, and when de richemont fought like a lion at his side! yet who dare say that she did not see and did not rejoice even then? if the light came only in gleams and flashes, surely it came to her charged with an infinite joy! and now i must tell of the last exploit of this wonderful eight days' triumphal march through a hostile country--that battle of patay, where, for the first time, the maid met the foe in the open, and directed operations not against stone walls, as in every case before, but against an army drawn up in a plain. there had been marching and counter-marching which only a map could make clear. what matters it the route we pursued, so long only as our progress had been attended by victory, and the fortresses cleared of foes, so that the journey of the king could now be taken in safety? yet there was one more peril to face; for the army so long expected, under sir john fastolffe, was now heard of somewhere close at hand. he had joined himself to talbot, so it was rumoured, and now a great host was somewhere in our neighbourhood, ready to fall upon us if they could find us, and cut us to pieces, as they had done so often before--witness the fields of crecy, poictiers, and agincourt! for the first time there was uneasiness and fear in the ranks of the soldiers. they had infinite confidence in the maid as a leader against stone walls, for had they not seen her take tower after tower, city after city? but she had never led them in the open field; and how could they expect to meet and triumph over the english, who had always vanquished them heretofore? we knew not where the foe lay; all we knew was that it was somewhere close at hand; and so strong grew the fear in the hearts of alencon and many others, that they begged the maid to fall back upon the camp at beaugency, and to wait there for further reinforcements. but she shook her head with decision. "let us find them first, and then ride boldly at them. be not afraid; they will not stand. my lord will give us the victory!" and how did we come upon them at last? verily, by a mere accident. we were marching in good order towards the great plain of beauce, which at this time of the year was so thickly overgrown with vineyards and cornfields that we saw nothing of any lurking foe; and i trow that we were not seen of them, although a great host was lying at ease in the noontide heat, watching for our coming, i doubt not; but not yet drawn up in battle array. a stag, frightened by our approach, broke from the thicket, and went thundering across the plain. all at once a shower of arrows let loose from english bows followed the creature's flight, together with eager shouts and laughter, betraying the presence of the unsuspecting foe. with a lightning swiftness the maid grasped the whole situation. here was an army, waiting to fight, it is true, but for the moment off its guard. here were we, in order of march. one word from her, and our whole force would charge straight upon the foe! and was that word lacking? was there an instant's hesitation? need such a question be asked of the maid? clear and sweet rose her wonderful voice, thrilling through the hot summer air. "forward, my children, forward, and fear not. fly boldly upon them, and the day shall be yours!" she charged, herself, at the head of one column; but la hire, in the vanguard, was before her. with shouts of triumph and joy the old veteran and his followers thundered into the very midst of the startled english, and we followed in their wake. the duc d'alencon rode beside the maid. his face was pale with excitement--perhaps with a touch of fear. he remembered the fight at agincourt, and the wound received there, the captivity and weary waiting for release. "how will it end, my general, how will it end?" he said, and i heard his words and her reply, for i was riding close behind. "have you good spurs, m. de duc?" she asked, with one flashing smile showing the gleam of white teeth. "ah ciel!" he cried in dismay; "then shall we fly before them?" "not so," she answered; "but they will fly so fast before us that we shall need good spurs to keep up with them!" and so, indeed, it was. perhaps it was the sight of the elan of the french troops, perhaps the fear of the white witch, perhaps because taken at unawares and in confusion, but the english for once made no stand. fastolffe and his men, on the outer skirts of the force, rode off at once in some order, heading straight for paris, but the braver and less prudent talbot sought, again and again, to rally his men, and bring them to face the foe. but it was useless. the rout was utter and complete. they could not stand before the maid; and when talbot himself had fallen a prisoner into our hands, the army melted away and ran for its life, so that this engagement is called the "chasse de patay" to this day. chapter xv. how the maid rode with the king. thus the english were routed with great loss, their leading generals prisoners in the hands of the maid, and the road for the king open, not to rheims alone, but to the very walls of paris, had he so chosen. indeed, there were those amongst us who would gladly and joyfully have marched under our great white banner right to the capital of the kingdom, and driven forth from it the english regent and all the soldiers with him, whether burgundians or those of his own nation. for fastolffe was flying along the road which led him thither, and it would have been a joy to many of us to pursue and overtake, to rout him and his army, or put them to the sword, and to march up beneath the walls of paris itself, and demand its surrender in the name of the maid! those there were amongst us who even came and petitioned of her to lead us thither, and strike a death blow, once and for all, against the power of the alien foe who had ruled our fair realm too long; but though her eyes brightened as we spoke, and though all that was martial in her nature responded to the appeal thus made to her--for by this time she was a soldier through every fibre of her being, and albeit ever extraordinarily tender towards the wounded, the suffering, the dying--be they friends or foes--the soldier spirit within her burned ever higher and higher, and she knew in her clear head that humanly speaking, we could embark upon such a victorious march as perchance the world has never seen before--certainly not beneath such a leader. and yet she shook her head, even whilst her cheek flushed and her eyes sparkled. little as the king had done to merit the deep devotion of such a nature as hers, the maid's loving loyalty towards, and faith in him never wavered. although we all saw in him the idle, pleasure loving, indolent weakling, which in those days he was, she could, or would, find no fault with him. often as he disappointed her, she never ceased to love and honour him. perchance it was given to her to see something of that manlier nature which must have underlaid even then that which we saw and grieved over. for she would hear no word against him. he was the centre and sun of her purpose, and her answer to us was spoken without hesitation. "nay, my friends, we have other work to do ere we may stand before the walls of paris. the dauphin must be brought to rheims, and the crown set upon his head; for thus hath my lord decreed, and i may not act other than as my voices direct." and when the maid spoke thus, there was no contradicting or gainsaying her. we had such confidence in her by this, that whatever she did was right in our eyes the soldiers would have followed her eagerly to the very walls of paris; but at her command they turned back and marched, with pennons flying and music sounding, to the court of the king, where news of the chasse of patay had already preceded us, and where a joyous welcome awaited our return, though even now there were sour and jealous faces amongst the nearest advisers of the king. if you would believe it, they still opposed the journey of the king to rheims, working on his fears, his irresolution, his indolence, and seeking to undermine the influence of the maid, when she went personally to see him, that she might speak with him face to face. he himself had many excuses to offer. "sweet chevaliere," he would say, calling her by one of the names which circulated through the court, "why such haste? is it not time that you should rest and take your ease after your many and arduous toils? think what you have accomplished in these few days! flesh and blood cannot continue at such a strain. let us now enjoy the fruits of these wonderful victories; let us feast and rejoice and enjoy a period of repose. surely that is prudent counsel; for we must have care for our precious maid, whom none can replace in our army, if she, by too arduous toil, should do herself an injury!" but the maid looked at him with her grave eyes full of earnest pleading and searching questioning. "gentle dauphin, i beseech you speak not thus, nor reason after such carnal fashion. think of what your lord and my lord has done for you! think of what hath been accomplished by him since first it was given to me to look upon your face. think what he hath decreed and what he hath already wrought for the furtherance of his purpose towards your majesty and this realm! and shall his will be set aside? shall we, his children, hang back and thwart him, just in the hour when he has put the victory in our hands? ah, sweet dauphin, that would be shame, indeed! that would be pain and grief to him. cast away all such unworthy thought! press on to the goal, now in sight! when you stand, crowned and anointed, king of france, you shall know the power wherewith you have been upheld, and lifted from the very mire of humiliation and disgrace!" and at these words the duc d'alencon, who was by this an ardent believer in the maid, and devotedly attached to her service, prostrated himself before the king, and cried: "sire, this maid speaks words of wisdom. i pray your majesty to give full heed to what she says. had you watched her as i have done, had you marched with her and seen her in battle as well as in scenes of peace, you would know well that the power of god is with her. fear not to do her bidding! go forth as she bids. let us hail you king of your fair realm, and then let the maid lead us on to other and greater victories!" we all joined our entreaties to that of the duke. we marvelled how the king could be so blind. but whilst others spoke and urged him, whilst we saw the light kindle in the monarch's eyes, and knew that her words had prevailed with him, she stood apart as one who dreams; and over her face there stole a strange, pale shadow, unlike anything i had seen there before. she saw nothing of the scene about her; heard no word of what passed. i think she did not even know what was meant by the great shout which suddenly went up when the king arose and declared, once and for all, that his mind was made up, that he would march with the maid to rheims; that he would not be daunted by the fact that in troyes and in chalons english garrisons yet remained, which might give him trouble in passing. what the maid had done before she could do again. all that hitherto she had promised had been fulfilled; the fear of her had fallen upon the english, and the terror of the english no longer weighed upon the spirits of the french. he would go, come what might. he would trust in the power of the maid to finish that which she had begun. the shouts and plaudits of the courtiers within the castle, and of the soldiers without, when this thing was known, was evidence enough of the confidence and enthusiasm which the exploits of the maid had awakened. not a soldier who had followed her heretofore but would follow her now, wherever she should lead them. surely her heart must have swelled with joy and pride as she heard the clamour of frantic applause ringing through the place. but when she was back in her own apartments, and i was able to approach her alone, i ventured to ask her something concerning her silence of a short time back. i always think with a great pride and tender joy of the trust and friendship which the maid reposed in me, thereby doing me a vast honour. i had often ridden beside her on our marches, especially in the earlier days, when she had not so many to claim her words and counsels. methinks she had spoken to bertrand, to me, and to sir guy de laval with more freedom respecting her voices and her visions than to any others, save, perhaps, the king himself, of whom she had ever said she had revelations for his ear alone. she would talk to us of things which for the most part she kept locked away in her own breast; and now when i did ask her what it was that had robbed her cheek of its colour, and wrapped her in a strange trance of grave musing, she passed her hand across her eyes, and then looked at me full, with a strange intensity of gaze. "if i only knew! if i only knew myself!" she murmured. "did your voices speak to you, mistress mine? i have seen you fall into such musing fits before this, when something has been revealed; but then your eyes have been bright with joy--this time they were clouded as with trouble." "it was when the duke spoke of other victories," she said, dreamily; "i seemed to see before me a great confusion as of men fighting and struggling. i saw my white banner fluttering, as it were, victoriously; and yet there was a darkness upon my spirit. i saw blackness--darkness--confusion; there was battle and strife--garments rolled in blood. my own white pennon was the centre of some furious struggle. i could not see what it was, waves of black vapour rose and obscured my view. then, in the midst of the smoke and vapour, i saw a great pillar of fire, rising up as to the very sky itself, and out of the fire flew a white dove. then a voice spoke--one of my own voices; but in tones different from any i have heard before--'have courage, even to death, jeanne,' it said, 'for we will still be with you.' then everything faded once more, and i heard only the shouting of the people, and knew that the king had made his decision, and that he had promised to receive his crown, which has waited for him so long." as she spoke these last words, the cloud seemed to lift. her own wonderful smile shone forth again. "if this be so; if, indeed, the dauphin shall be made king, what matters that i be taken away? my work will end when the crown shall be set upon his head. then, indeed, my soul shall say: 'lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'" her face was suddenly transfigured--radiant--with some great and glorious thought. i was glad at heart to see that the shadow had passed entirely away. only for a moment could any presage of personal fear cloud the sweet serenity of the maid's nature. and yet i went from her something troubled myself; for had i not reason to know what strange power she possessed of reading the future, and what did it mean, that confusion of battle, that intermingling of victory and defeat, that darkness of smoke and blaze of fire, and the white dove flying forth unscathed? i had heard too often the shouts of the infuriated english--"we will take you and burn you, you white witch! you shall perish in the flames from whence the devil, your father, has sent you forth!"--not to hear with a shudder any vision of smoke and of fire. but again, had not the maid ever prevailed in battle over her foes? might she not laugh to scorn all such threats? ah me! it is well that we may not read the future, else how could we bear the burden of life? joyous and triumphant was the day upon which, after some inevitable delays, we started forth--a goodly company in sooth--an army at our back, swelling with pride and triumph--to take our young king to the appointed place, and see the crown of france there set upon his head. from all quarters news was pouring in of the hopeless disruption of the power of the english after the chasse de patay. towns and villages which had submitted in sullen acquiescence before, now sent messages of loyalty and love to the king. men flocked daily to join our standard as we marched. it was a sight to see the villagers come forth, clad in their holiday dress, eager to see and pay homage to the king, but yet more eager to look upon the white mailed figure at his side and shout aloud the name of the maid of orleans! for the place of honour at the king's right hand was reserved for the maid, and she rode beside him without fear, without protest, without shame. gentle, humble, and simple as she always was, she knew herself the messenger of a greater king than that of france, and the honour done to her she accepted as done to her lord, and never faltered beneath it, as she was never puffed up or made haughty or arrogant thereby. nor did she ever lose her tenderness of heart, nor her quick observation of trivial detail in the absorbing interests of her greatness. she was the first to note signs of distress upon the part of the soldiers, during this march in the midsummer heat. it was she who would suggest a halt in the noontide, in some wooded spot, that "her children" might rest and refresh themselves, and it was she who, never tired herself, would go amongst them, asking them of their well being, and bringing with her own hands some luscious fruit or some cooling draught to any soldier who might be suffering from the effects of the sun. she who rode beside a king, who was the greatest and most renowned of that great company, would minister with her own hands to the humblest of her followers; and if ever king or duke or courtier jested or remonstrated with her on the matter, her answer was always something like this: "they are my own people. i am one of them. at home when any was sick in the village, i was always sent for. and wherefore not now? i am the same as i was then. soon i shall be going back to them, my task accomplished. wherefore should i not be their friend and sister still?" then all would laugh to think of the maid of orleans going back to take up the life of a peasant again at domremy; but the maid's face grew grave and earnest as she would make reply: "indeed, if my work for my king is accomplished, i would fain do so. i was so happy, so happy in my sweet home." but now our triumphal march was suddenly brought to a halt; for we were approaching the town of troyes--a place of ill omen to france, and to the young king in particular, for there the shameful treaty was signed which robbed him of his crown; and great was the dissension amongst the king's counsellors as to what should be done. the place was strong, the english garrison there large. a summons to surrender sent on in advance had been ignored, and now came the question--should the army pass on its way to rheims leaving this place in the rear unattacked and untaken, or should it run the risk of a long delay, and perhaps some peril and loss in attempting to reduce it? la hire and dunois spoke out insistently. at all costs the town must be taken. it would be folly and madness to leave such a stronghold of the enemy in the rear. other places had fallen before the victorious maid, and why not this? the army would go anywhere with her. the soldiers only desired to be told what she counselled, and to a man they would support her. they had lost all fear of the foe, if only the maid led them into battle, whether in the open or against massive walls. but as usual the king's nearest counsellors were all for delay, for avoiding battle, for retreat rather than risk. the archbishop of rheims, instead of being eager to push on to the place which so far was only his in name, for he had never been aught but titular archbishop as yet, was always one with la tremouille in advising caution and a timid policy. both were the enemies of the maid, jealous of her gifts and of her influence with the king, and fearful lest her power over him should grow and increase. they even plotted that she should be excluded from the council now sitting anent this very matter, and it was only when the king and the duc d'alencon, growing restless and impatient at her absence, desired her presence instantly, that she was sent for. there was a grave dignity about her as she entered, which sat impressively upon her young face, so fair and sweet and gentle. she knew that timid counsels were being held, and that she, the commander-in-chief of the army, was being set aside--the messenger from the lord was being ignored. not for herself, but for him was her spirit moved. the archbishop with much circumlocution told her of the difficulty in which the king's council was placed, and would have discoursed for long upon the situation, only that in his first pause the maid spoke, addressing herself to the king: "shall i be believed if i speak my counsel?" she asked. "you will be believed according as you speak," answered the king, thoroughly uneasy, as he ever was, when torn in twain by the multitude of counsellors with whom he must needs surround himself, though his heart ever inclined towards the maid. "i speak that which my lord gives me to speak," she answered, her wonderful eyes full upon the king. "shall i be believed?" "if you speak that which is reasonable and profitable, i will certainly believe you," he answered, still uneasy beneath her look. "shall i be believed?" she questioned a third time, and there was a fire in her eyes which seemed to leap out and scathe the pusillanimous monarch as he sat quaking in his council. "speak, maiden," he cried out then, "i at least will believe!" "then, noble dauphin," she cried, "order your army to assault this city of troyes, where such despite has been done you, and hold no more councils; for my lord has told me that within three days i shall lead you into the town, and false burgundy and proud england shall there be overthrown!" "pouf!" cried the chancellor, one of the maid's worst foes, "if there was a chance of doing such a thing in six days we would willingly wait; but--" he stopped suddenly--none knew why, save that the maid's eyes were fixed full upon him, and in those eyes was that strange shining light which some of us knew so well. she did not speak to him, but when his voice suddenly wavered and broke, she addressed herself to the king, speaking as one who repeats a message. "you shall be master of the city of troyes, noble dauphin, not in six days--but tomorrow." and even as she spoke, without waiting for any response, she turned and went forth, walking with her head well up, and her eyes fixed straight before her, yet as one who walks in sleep, and pays no heed to what lies before him. she called for her horse; and leaping into the saddle, rode out bareheaded in the summer sun to the camp where the soldiers lay, in doubt and wonderment at this delay; and as they sprang up to a man at sight of her, and broke into the acclamations which always greeted her appearance amongst them, she lifted up her clear ringing voice and cried: "be ready, my children, against the morrow, confess your sins, make your peace with god and man. for tomorrow he will lead you victorious into yonder frowning city, and not a hair of your heads shall suffer!" they crowded about her, filling the air with shouts of triumph; they clamoured to be led at once against the grim frowning walls. i verily believe, had she put herself at their head then and there, that nothing could have withstood the elan of their attack; but the maid received her orders from a source we knew not of, and fleshly pride never tempted her to swerve from the appointed path. she smiled at the enthusiasm of the men, but she shook her head gently and firmly. "do my bidding, my children, confess yourselves and pray till set of sun. then i will come to you and set you your appointed tasks, and tomorrow i will lead you into the city!" that night there was no sleep for the maid or for her soldiers. at no time was it dark, for midsummer was over the land, and the moon hung in the sky like a silver lamp when the sun had set. the maid came forth as she had said with the last of the daylight, and at her command a great mound was speedily raised, of earth, brushwood, faggots, stones--anything that the soldiers could lay hands upon; and when this hillock was of height sufficient to satisfy the young general, the great guns were brought and set upon it in such masterly fashion, and in such a commanding way, that la hire, dunois and xantrailles, who came to see, marvelled at it, and we could note from the top of this earthwork that within the city great commotion reigned, and that it was as busy as a hive that has been disturbed. as the first mystic glow of the summer's dawn kindled in the eastern sky, the maid stood, a white luminous figure in full armour, poised lightly on the top of one of our pieces of ordnance, her drawn sword in her hand, pointing full in the direction of the city. i have heard since from those within that the anxious garrison and citizens saw this motionless figure, and cried aloud in terror and awe. to them it seemed as though st. michael himself had come down to fight against them, and terror stricken they ran to the governors of the city and implored that surrender might be made, ere the heavens opened and rained lightnings down upon them. and thus it came about that ere the dawn had fairly come, an embassy was sent to the king and terms of surrender offered. the king, from motives of policy or fear, the maid, from pity and generosity, accepted the messengers graciously, and granted the garrison leave to depart with their horses and their arms, if the town were peacefully given up; and thus it came about that after the king had finished his night's slumber, and the maid had done her gracious part in redeeming and releasing the french prisoners, which, but for her, would have been carried away by the retiring english and burgundians, she rode beside the king, and at the head of the cheering and tumultuous army into the city of troyes, which had surrendered to the magic of her name without striking a blow. "o my chevaliere," cried the happy and triumphant monarch, as he turned to look into her grave serene face. "what a wonderful maid you are! stay always with me, jeanne, and be my friend and general to my life's end." she looked at him long and earnestly as she made answer: "alas, sire, it may not be! for a year--perhaps for a year. but i shall last no longer than that!" chapter xvi. how the maid accomplished her mission. shall i ever forget that evening? no, not if i live to be a hundred! june had well-nigh passed ere we began our march from gien--that triumphant march headed by the king and the maid--and july had run half its course since we had been upon the road. for we had had a great tract of country to traverse, and a large army must needs have time in which to move itself. and now upon a glorious golden evening in that month of sunshine and summertide, we saw before us--shining in a floating mist of reflected glory--the spires and towers, the walls and gates of the great city of rheims--the goal of our journeyings--the promised land of the maid's visions and voices! was it indeed a city of stone and wood which shone before us in the level rays of the sinking sun? i asked that question of myself; methinks that the maid was asking it in her heart; for when i turned my eyes upon her, i caught my breath in amaze at her aspect, and i know now what it is to say that i have looked upon the face of an angel! she had dropped her reins, and they hung loose upon her horse's neck; her hands were clasped together in a strange rapture of devotion. her head was bare; for she often gave her headpiece to her page to carry for her, and in the evenings did not always replace it by any other covering. her hair had grown a little longer during these months, and curled round her face in a loose halo, which in the strong and ruddy light of the setting sun, shone a glorious golden colour, as though a ray of heavenly light were enmeshed within it. but it was the extraordinary brightness of those great luminous eyes, the rapt and intense expression of her face which arrested my attention, and seemed for a moment to stop the triumphant beating of my heart. it was not triumph which i read there, though there was joy and rapture and peace, beyond all power of understanding. it was the face of one who sees heaven open, and in the wonder and awe of the beatific vision forgets all else, and feels not the fetters of the flesh, heeds not those things which must needs intervene ere the spirit can finally be loosed to enter upon blessedness and rest, but soars upwards at once into heavenly regions. the town of rheims lay before us. the inhabitants were pouring forth to meet us. we saw them coming over the plain, as we watched the walls and buildings, glowing in the mystic radiance of the summer's evening, loom up larger and grander and sharper before us. it was no dream! and yet who would have thought it possible three months ago? in mid-april the iron grip of the english lay all over the land north of the loire, and the south lay supine and helpless, stricken with the terror of the victorious conqueror. orleans was at its last gasp, and with its fall the last bulwark would be swept away; all france must own the sway of the conqueror. the king was powerless, indolent, ready to fly at the first approach of peril, with no hope and no desire for rule, doubtful even if he had the right to take upon himself the title of king, careless in his despair and his difficulties. the army was almost non-existent; the soldiers could scarce be brought to face the foe. one englishman could chase ten of ours. the horror as of a great darkness seemed to have fallen upon the land. and yet in three months' time what had not been accomplished! the king was riding into the ancient city of rheims, to be crowned king of france; orleans was relieved; a score of fortresses had been snatched from the hands of the english. these were fleeing from us in all directions back to paris; where they hoped to make a stand against us, but were in mortal fear of attack; and now it was our soldiers who clamoured to be led against the english--the english who fled helter-skelter before the rush and the dash of the men whom heretofore they had despised. and all this was the work of yonder marvellous maid--a girl of seventeen summers, who, clad in white armour, shining like an angelic vision, was riding at the king's side towards the city. he turned and looked at her at the moment my gaze was thus arrested, and i saw his face change. he put out his hand and touched hers gently; but he had to touch her twice and to speak twice ere she heard or knew. "jeanne--fairest maiden--what do you see?" she turned her gaze upon him--radiant, misty, marvellous. "i see the land of promise," she answered, speaking very low, yet so clearly that i heard every word. "the chosen of the lord will go forward to victory. he will drive out the enemy before the face of him upon whom he shall set the crown of pure gold. france shall prosper--her enemies shall be confounded. what matter whose the work, or whose the triumph? what matter who shall fall ere the task be accomplished--so that it be done according to the mind of the lord?" "and by the power of the maid--the deliverer!" spoke the king, a gush of gratitude filling his heart, as he looked first at the slight figure and inspired face of the maid, and then at the city towards which we were riding, the faint clash of joy bells borne softly to our ears. "for to you, o my general, i owe it all; and may the lord judge betwixt us twain if i share not every honour that i may yet win with her who has accomplished this miracle!" but her gaze was full of an inexplicable mystery. "nay, gentle dauphin, but that will not be," she said; "one shall increase, another shall decrease--hath it not ever been so? my task is accomplished. my work is done. let another take my place after tomorrow, for my mission will be accomplished." "never!" cried the king firmly and earnestly, and when i heard him thus speak my heart rejoiced; for i, no more than others, believed that success could attend the king's further efforts without her who was the inspiration of the army, and the worker of these great miracles which had been wrought. how often have i wondered since--but that is no part of my story. let me tell those things which did happen to us. how can i tell of our entry into rheims? have i not spoken in other places of other such scenes, often in the early dusk of evening, when whole cities flocked out to meet the maid, to gaze in awe and wonder upon her, to kiss her hands, her feet, her knees, the neck and flanks of the horse she rode, and even his very footprints in the road, as he moved along with his precious burden? as it was there, so was it here--the same joy, the same wonder, the same enthusiasm. the king was greeted with shouts and acclamations, it is true; but the greater admiration and wonder was reserved for the maid, and he knew it, and smiled, well pleased that it should be so; for at that time his heart was full of a great gratitude and affection, and never did he seek to belittle that which she had wrought on his behalf. thankfulness, peace, and happiness shone in the eyes of the maid as she rode; but there was a nearer and more personal joy in store for her; for as we passed through the town, with many pauses on account of the greatness of the throng, pouring in and out of the churches (for it was the vigil of the madelaine), or crowding about the king and the maid, she chanced to lift her eyes to the windows of an inn in the place, and behold her face kindled with a look different from any i had seen there before, and she looked around for me, and beckoning with her hand, she pointed upwards, and cried in tones of strange delight and exultation: "my father, fair knight, my father! i saw his face!" now, i knew that jacques d'arc had been greatly set against his daughter's mission, and it had been declared that he had disowned her, and would have withheld her from going forth, had such a thing been within his power. she had never received any message of love or forgiveness from him all these weeks, though her two younger brothers had joined the army, and were always included in her household. so that i was not surprised at the kindling of her glance, nor at the next words she spoke. "go to him, my friend; tell him that i must needs have speech with him. ah, say that i would fain return home with him when my task is done, if it be permitted me. go, find him speedily, ere he can betake himself away. my father! my father! i had scarce hoped to look upon his face again!" so whilst the king and the maid and their train rode on to the huge old palace of the archeveche, hard by the cathedral, i slipped out of my place in the ranks, and passed beneath the archway into the courtyard of the old inn, where the maid declared that she had seen the face of her father looking forth. i had not much trouble in finding him; for already a whisper had gone forth that certain friends and relatives of the wonderful maid had journeyed from domremy to witness her triumphant entry into rheims. indeed, some of these had followed us from chalons, all unknown to her, who would so gladly have welcomed them. chalons, though a fortified town, and with a hostile garrison, had opened its gates to us without resistance, feeling how hopeless it was to strive against the power of the maid. the wonder and awe inspired by her presence, and by her marvellous achievements, had sunk deeply into the spirits of these simple country folk, who had only heretofore known jeanne d'arc as a gentle village maiden, beloved of all, but seeming not in any way separated from her companions and friends. now they had seen her, white and glistening, in martial array, riding beside a king, an army at her back, acclaimed of the multitude, the idol of the hour, a victor in a three months' campaign, the like of which never was before, and methinks can never be again. so now, when i stood face to face with the rugged prud'homme, the father of this wonderful maid, and told him of her desire to speak with him upon the morrow, when the king should have received his crown, i saw that many emotions were struggling together in his breast; for his soul revolted yet, in some measure, at the thought of his girl a leader of men, the head of an army, the friend of kings and courtiers, whilst it was impossible but that some measure of pride and joy should be his at the thought of her achievements, and in the assurance that at last the king, whom loyal little domremy had ever served and loved, was to receive his crown, and be the anointed sovereign of the land. "she desires speech with me? she, whom i have seen riding beside the king? what have i to do with the friends of royalty? how can she consort with princes and with peasants?" "let her show you that herself, my friend," i answered. "we, who have companied with her through these wonderful weeks, know well how that she is no less a loving daughter, a friend of the people, for being the friend of a king and the idol of an army. give me some message for her. she longs for a kind word from you. let me only take her word that you will see her and receive her as a father should receive his child, and i trow that it will give her almost the same joy as the knowledge that by her miraculous call she has saved her country and crowned her king." i scarce know what answer jacques d'arc would have made, for he was a proud, unbending man, and his face was sternly set whilst i pleaded with him. but there were others from domremy, entirely filled with admiration of the maid, and with desire to see her again; and their voices prevailed, so that he gave the answer for which i waited. he would remain at the inn over the morrow of the great function of the coronation, and would receive his daughter there, and have speech with her. "tell her that i will take her home with me, if she will come," he spoke; "for she herself did say that her work would be accomplished when the crown was placed upon the king's head. let her be true to her word; let her return home, and become a modest maiden again beneath her mother's care, and all shall be well betwixt us. but if pride and haughtiness possess her soul, and she prefers the company of courtiers and soldiers to that of her own people, and the life of camps to the life of home, then i wash my hands of her. let her go her own way. she shall no longer be daughter of mine!" i did not tell those words to the maid. my lips refused to speak them. but i told her that her father would remain in the place till she had leisure to have speech with him; and her eyes kindled with joy at hearing such news, for it seemed to her as though this would be the pledge of his forgiveness, the forgiveness for which she had longed, and for the lack of which none of her triumphs could altogether compensate. there was no sleep for the city of rheims upon that hot summer's night. although the coming of the king had been rumoured for some time, it had never been fully believed possible till news had been brought of the fall of troyes, and the instant submission of chalons. then, and only then, did citizens and prelates truly realise that the talked-of ceremony could become an accomplished fact, and almost before they had recovered from their amazement at the rapidity of the march of events, courtiers brought in word that the king and his army were approaching. so all night long the people were hard at work decorating their city, their churches, above all their cathedral; and the priests and prelates were in close conference debating what vestments, what vessels, what rites and ceremonies should be employed, and how the lack of certain necessary articles, far away at st. denis, could be supplied out of the rich treasuries of the cathedral. as the dawn of the morning brightened in the east, the sun rose upon a scene of such splendour and magnificence as perhaps has seldom been witnessed at such short notice. the whole city seemed one blaze of triumphal arches, of summer flowers, of costly stuffs and rich decoration. every citizen had donned his best and brightest suit; the girls and children had clothed themselves in white, and crowned themselves with flowers. even the war-worn soldiers had polished their arms, furbished up their clothes, and borrowed or bought from the townsfolk such things as were most lacking; and now, drawn up in array in the great square, with tossing banners, and all the gay panoply of martial glory, they looked like some great victorious band--as, indeed, they were--celebrating the last act of a great and wonderful triumph. as for the knights, nobles, and courtiers, one need not speak of the outward glory of their aspect--the shining armour, the gay dresses, the magnificent trappings of the sleek horses--that can well be pictured by those who have ever witnessed a like brilliant scene. but for the first part of the day, with its many and varied ceremonies, there was lacking the shining figure of the maid; nor did the king himself appear. but forth from the palace of the archeveche rode four of the greatest and most notable peers of the realm, attended by a gorgeous retinue; and with banners waving, and trumpets blowing great martial blasts, they paced proudly through the streets, between the closely-packed ranks of soldiers and citizens, till they reached the ancient abbey of sainte remy, where the monks of sainte ampoule guard within their shrine the holy oil of consecration, in that most precious vial which, they said, was sent down from heaven itself for the consecration of king clovis and his successors. upon bended knees and with bared heads these great peers of france then took their solemn oath that the sacred vial should never leave their sight or care, night or day, till it was restored to the keeping of the shrine from which the abbot was about to take it. then, and only then, would the abbot, clothed in his most sumptuous vestments, and attended by his robed monks, take from its place that holy vessel, and place it in the hands of the messengers--knights hostages, as they were termed for the nonce--and as they carried it slowly and reverently forth, and retraced their steps to the cathedral, accompanied now by the abbot and monks, every knee was bent and every head bowed. but all the while that this ceremony was taking place, the maid was shut up in her room in the palace, dictating a letter of appeal to the duke of burgundy, and praying him in gentle, yet authoritative terms, to be reconciled to his king, join hands with him against the english foe, and then, if need there were to fight, to turn his arms against the saracens, instead of warring with his brethren and kinsmen. i trow that this thing was urged upon her at this time, in that she believed her mission so nearly accomplished, and that soon she would have no longer right to style herself "jeanne the maid," and to speak with authority to princes and nobles. as yet she was the appointed messenger of heaven. her words and acts all partook of that almost miraculous character which they had borne from the first. i will not quote the letter here; but it is writ in the page of history; and i ask of all scholars who peruse its words, whether any village maiden of but seventeen years, unlettered, and ignorant of statecraft, could of herself compose so lofty and dignified an appeal, or speak with such serene authority to one who ranked as well-nigh the equal of kings. it was her last act ere she donned her white armour, and passed forth from her chamber to take part in the ceremony of the coronation. in some sort it was the last of her acts performed whilst she was yet the deliverer of her people. when i looked upon those words, long after they had been penned, i felt the tears rising in mine eyes. i could have wept tears of blood to think of the fate which had befallen one whose thoughts were ever of peace and mercy, even in the hour of her supremest triumph. how can my poor pen describe the wonders of the great scene, of which i was a spectator upon that day? nay, rather will i only seek to speak of the maid, and how she bore herself upon that great occasion. she would have been content with a very humble place in the vast cathedral today; she had no desire to bear a part in the pageant which had filled the city and packed the great edifice from end to end. but the king and the people willed it otherwise. the thing which was about to be done was the work of the maid, and she must be there to see all, and the people should see her, too--see her close to the king himself, who owed to her dauntless courage and devotion the crown he was about to assume, the realm he had begun to conquer. so she stood near at hand to him all through that long, impressive ceremony--a still, almost solemn figure in her silver armour, a long white velvet mantle, embroidered in silver, flowing from her shoulders, her hand grasping the staff of her great white banner, which had been borne into the cathedral by d'aulon, and beside which she stood, her hand upon the staff. she was bareheaded, and the many-coloured lights streamed in upon her slim, motionless figure, and the face which she lifted in adoration and thanksgiving. i trow that none in that vast assembly, who could see her as she thus stood, doubted but that she stood there the accredited messenger of the most high. the light from heaven itself was shining on her upturned face, the reflection of an unearthly glory beamed in her eyes. from time to time her lips moved, as though words of thanksgiving broke silently forth; but save for that she scarcely moved all through the long and solemn ceremony. methinks that she saw it rather in the spirit than in the flesh; and the knights and nobles who had poured in from the surrounding country to witness this great function, and had not companied with the maid before, but had only heard of her fame from afar, these regarded her with looks of wonder and of awe, and whispering together, asked of each other whether in truth she were a creature of flesh and blood, or whether it were not some angelic presence, sent down direct from heaven. and so at last the king was anointed and crowned! the blare of the thousand trumpets, the acclamations of a vast multitude proclaimed the thing done! charles the seventh stood before his people, their king, in fact as well as in name. the work of the maid was indeed accomplished! chapter xvii. how the maid was persuaded. the ceremony was over. the dauphin stood in our midst a crowned and anointed king. we were back in the great hall of the archeveche, and the thunders of triumphant applause which had been restrained within the precincts of the sacred edifice now broke forth again, and yet again, in long bursts of cheering, which were echoed from without by the multitudes in the street and great square place, and came rolling through the open windows in waves of sound like the beating of the surf upon the shore. the king stood upon a raised dais; his chiefest nobles and peers around him. he was magnificently robed, as became so great an occasion, and for the first time that i had ever seen, he looked an imposing and a dignified figure. something there was of true kingliness in his aspect. it seemed as though the scene through which he had passed had not been without effect upon his nature, and that something regal had been conveyed to him through the solemnities which had just taken place. the maid was present also; but she had sought to efface herself in the crowd, and stood thoughtfully apart in an embrasure of the wall, half concealed by the arras, till the sound of her name, proclaimed aloud in a hundred different tones, warned her that something was required of her, and she stepped forward with a questioning look in her startled eyes, as though just roused from some dream. she had been one of the first to prostrate herself at the new-made king's feet when the coronation ceremony was over; and the tears streaming down her face had been eloquent testimony of her deep emotion. but she had only breathed a few broken words of devotion and of joy, and had added something in a choked whisper which none but he had been able to hear. "the king calls for the maid! the king desires speech with the maid!" such was the word ringing through the hall; and she came quietly forth from her nook, the crowd parting this way and that before her, till she was walking up through a living avenue to the place where the king was now seated upon a throne-like chair on the dais at the far end of the hall. as she came towards him the king extended his hand, as though he would meet her still rather as friend than as subject; but she kneeled down at his feet, and pressing her lips to the extended hand, she spoke in a voice full of emotion: "gentle king, now is the pleasure of god fulfilled towards you. now is the will of my lord accomplished. to him alone be the praise and glory! it was his will that i should be sent before you to raise the siege of orleans, to lead you to this city of rheims, there to receive your consecration. now has he shown to all the world that you are the true king--that it is his will you should reign over this fair realm, that this kingdom of france belongs to you and you alone. my task is now accomplished. his will in me is fulfilled. go forward, then, noble king--strong in the power of your kingly might and right, doubting not that he will aid you still; though he will work with other instruments, with other means, for my task in this is now accomplished!" there was a little stir and thrill throughout the hall as these words were spoken. dismay fell upon many, wonder upon all, triumph gleamed from the eyes of a few; but most men looked one at the other in consternation. what did she mean by these words?--this heaven-sent maid to whom we owed so much? surely she did not think to leave us just in the hour of her supreme triumph? how could we hope to lead on the armies to fresh victories, if the soldiers were told that the maid would no longer march with them? who would direct us with heavenly counsel, or with that marvellous clearness of vision which is given only to a few in this sinful world, and to those only whose hearts are consecrated by a great devotion, and a great love? she could not mean that! she loved france with an overwhelming fervour. she was devoted to the service of the king, in whom she had never been able or willing to see wrong. she knew her power with the army; she loved the rough soldiers who followed her unshrinkingly in the teeth of the very fiercest perils, and who would answer to her least command, when they would obey none other general. o no, she could not think of deserting france in this her hour of need! much had been done; but much yet remained to do. if she were to quit her post, there could be no telling what might not follow. the english, cowed and bewildered now, might well pluck up heart of grace, and sweep back through the country once owning their sway, driving all foes before them as in the days of old. the victories won in these last weeks might soon be swallowed up in fresh defeat and disaster. how could we expect it to be otherwise if the presence of the maid were withdrawn? these and a hundred other questions and conjectures were buzzing through the great hall. wonder and amaze was on every face. the king himself looked grave for a moment; but then his smile shone out carelessly gay and confident. he looked down at the maid, and there was tender friendliness in his glance. he spoke nothing to her at the first as to what she had said; he merely asked of her a question. "my chevaliere, my guardian angel, tell me this, i pray. you have done all these great things for me; what am i to do in return for you?" she raised her eyes towards him, and the light sprang into them--that beautiful, fearless light which shone there when she led her soldiers into battle. "go forward fearlessly, noble king. go forward in the power of your anointing; and fear nothing. that is all i ask of you. do that, and you will give to me my heart's desire." "we will talk of that later, jeanne," he answered, "i have many things to speak upon that matter yet. but today i would ask you of something different. you have done great things for me; it is not fitting that you should refuse to receive something at my hands. this day i sit a king upon my father's throne. ask of me some gift and grace for yourself--i your king and your friend demand it of you!" it was spoken in a right kingly and gracious fashion, and we all held our breath to listen for the answer the maid should give. we had known her so long and so well, and we had learned how little she desired for herself, how hard it was to induce her to express any wish for her own gratification. she was gentle and gracious in her acceptance of the gifts received from friends who had furnished her from the beginning with such things as were needful for her altered life; but she had ever retained her simplicity of thought and habit; and though often living in the midst of luxury and extravagance, she was never touched by those vices herself. and now she was bidden to ask a boon; and she must needs do it, or the displeasure of the king would light upon her. he had raised her to her feet by this time, and she stood before him, a slim boy-like figure in her white point-device dress, her cheeks a little flushed, her slender fingers tightly entwined, the breath coming and going through her parted lips. "gentle king," she answered, and her low full voice thrilled through the hall to its farthermost end in the deep hush which had fallen upon it, "there is one grace and gift that i would right gladly ask of you. here in this city of rheims are assembled a few of mine own people from domremy; my father, my uncle, and with them some others whom i have known and loved from childhood. i would ask this thing of you, noble king. give me at your royal pleasure a deed, duly signed and sealed by your royal hand, exempting the village of domremy, where i was born, from all taxes such as are levied elsewhere throughout the realm. let me have this deed to give to those who have come to see me here, and thus when i return with them to my beloved childhood's home, i shall be witness to the joy and gladness which such a kingly boon will convey. grant me this--only this, gentle king, and you will grant me all my heart desires!" the king spoke aside a few words to one of those who stood about him, and this person silently bowed and quitted the hail; then he turned once more to the maid, standing before him still with a happy and almost childlike smile playing over her lips. "the thing shall be done, jeanne," he said; "and it shall be done right soon. the first deed to which i set my hand as king shall be the one which shall for ever exempt domremy from all taxation. you shall give it to your father this very day, to take home with him when he goes. but as for those other words of yours--what did you mean by them? how can you witness the joy of a distant village, when you will be leading forward the armies of france to fresh victories?" he gazed searchingly into her face as he spoke; and she looked back at him with a sudden shrinking in her beautiful eyes. "sire," she faltered--and anything like uncertainty in that voice was something new to us--"of what victories do you speak? i have done my part. i have accomplished that which my lord has set me to do. my task ends here. my mission has been fulfilled. i have no command from him to go forward. i pray you let me return home to my mother and my friends." "nay, jeanne, your friends are here," spoke the king gravely, "and your country is your mother. would you neglect to hear her cry to you in the hour of her need? her voice it was that called you forth from your obscurity; she calls you yet. will you cease to hear and to obey?" the trouble and perplexity deepened in the eyes of the maid. "my voices have not bidden me to go forward," she faltered. "have they bidden you to go back--to do no more for france?" "no," she answered, throwing back her head, her eyes kindling once again with ardour; "they have not bidden me return, or i would have done it without wavering. they tell me nothing, save to be of a good heart and courage. they promise to be with me--my saints, whom i love. but they give me no commands. i see not the path before me, as i have seen it hitherto. that is why i say, let me go home. my work is done; i have no mission more. shall i take upon me that which my lord puts not upon me--whether it be honour or toil or pain?" "yes, jeanne, you shall take that upon you which your country calls upon you to take, which your king puts upon you, which even your saints demand of you, though perchance with no such insistence as before, since that is no longer needed. can you think that the mind of the lord has changed towards me and towards france? yet you must know as well as i and my generals do, that without you to lead them against the foe, the soldiers will waver and tremble, and perchance turn their backs upon our enemies once more. you they will follow to a man; but will they follow others when they know that you have deserted them? you tell me to go forward and be of good courage. how can i do this if you turn back, and take with you the hearts of my men?" "sire, i know not that such would be the case," spoke the maid gravely. "you stand amongst them now as their crowned and anointed king. what need have they of other leader? they have followed me heretofore, waiting for you; but now--" "now they will want you more than ever, since you have ever led them to victory!" cried the king; and raising his voice and looking about him, especially to those generals and officers of his staff who had seen so much of the recent events of the campaign, he cried out: "what say you, gentlemen? what is our chance to drive away the english and become masters of this realm if the maid of orleans take herself away from us, and the soldiers no longer see her standard floating before them, or hear her voice cheering them to the battle?" some of those present looked sullenly on the ground, unwilling to own that the maid was a power greater than any other which could be brought into the field; but there were numbers of other and greater men, who had never denied her her meed of praise, though they had thwarted her at times in the council room; and these with one accord declared that should the maid betake herself back to domremy, leaving the army to its fate, they would not answer for the effect which this desertion would have, but would, in fact, almost expect the melting away of the great body of the trained soldiers and recruits who had fought with her, and had come to regard her presence with them as the essential to a perfect victory. but we were destined to have a greater testimony than this, for a whisper of what was passing within the great hall had now filtered forth into the streets, and all in a moment we were aware of a mighty tumult and hubbub without, a clamour of voices louder and more insistent than those which had hailed the king a short time before, and the words which seemed to form themselves out of the clamour and gradually grow into the burden of the people's cry was the repeated and vehement shout, "the maid of orleans! the maid of orleans! we will fight if the maid goes with us--without her we be all dead men!" they came and told us what the crowd of soldiers in the street was shouting; they begged that the maid would show herself at some window, and promise that she would remain with the army. indeed, there was almost a danger of riot and disaster if something were not done to quell the excitement of the soldiery and the populace; and at this news the maid suddenly drew her slender, drooping figure to its full height, and looked long and steadfastly at the king. "sire," she said, "i give myself to you and to france. my lord knows that i seek in this to do his will, though differently from heretofore. you will be disappointed. many will misjudge me. there will be sorrow and anguish of heart as well as triumph and joy. but if my country calls, i go forth gladly to meet her cry--even though i go to my death!" i do not know how many heard her last words; for they were drowned in the roar of joyful applause which followed her declaration. the king gave her his hand, and led her forth upon a balcony, where the great concourse in the street below could see them; and by signs he made them understand that she would continue with him as one of his commanders-in-chief; and in hearing this the city well nigh went mad with joy; bonfires blazed and bells pealed madly; and the cry heard in the streets was less "long live the king!" than that other frantic shout, "the maid of orleans! the maid of orleans!" but the maid returned to her apartments with a strange look upon her face; and she held out her hand to me as one who would fain ask help and sympathy of a trusted comrade, as i am proud to think i was regarded at that time by her. "the king's word has prevailed, o my friend," she said, "but i would that i were sure it will be for the best!" "how can it be otherwise than for the best?" i answered as i held her hand in mine, and looked searchingly into her fair, grave face. "will not your lord help you yet? do not all men trust in you? will not the soldiers fight for and with you? and are you not sure in your heart that the cause of the french king will yet triumph?" her eyes were misty with unshed tears as she made reply: "i know that my lord will not desert me; and i trust i may serve him yet, and the king whom i love. i know that all will be well--at the last--for this fair realm of france. but i have no commission direct from my lord as i have had hitherto. my voices yet speak gentle and kindly words. i trow that my saints will watch over me, and that they will give me strength to strive and to overcome. for myself i fear not--i am ready to die for my king and my country if that be the will of god. only the shadow lies athwart my path, where until today all was brightness and sunshine. it would have been so sweet to go home to my mother, to see the fairy tree, and the old familiar faces, and listen once more to the angelus bell! i had thought that i should by this have earned my rest. i had not thought that with so many to serve him, the king would have had further use for me." "yet how could it be otherwise, my general, when the soldiers will follow you alone?--when all look to you as their champion and their friend?" "nay, but i have enemies too," she answered sadly, "and i know that they will work me ill--greater ill in the future than they have had power to do heretofore, when i was watched over and guarded for the task that was set me. that task is now accomplished. can i look to receive the same protection as before? the lord may have other instruments prepared to carry on his work of deliverance. i doubt not that he will use me yet, and that i shall never be forsaken; but my time will not be long. i shall only last a year. let the king use me for all that i am worth!--after that he must look for others to aid him!" i could not bear to hear her speak so. i would have broken in with protestations and denials; but something in the look upon her face silenced me. my heart sank strangely within me, for had i not learned to know how truly the maid did read that which the future hid from our eyes? i could only seek to believe that in this she might be mistaken, since she herself did say how that things were something different with her now. she seemed to read the thoughts that crowded my brain; for she looked into my face with her tender, far-seeing smile. "you are sad, my kind friend, my faithful knight, and sometimes mine own heart is sad also. but yet why should we fear? i know that i have enemies, and i know that they will have more power to hurt me in the times that are coming, than has been permitted hitherto, yet--" with an uncontrollable impulse i flung myself at her feet. "o my general--o my dear lady--speak not such things--it breaks my heart. or if, indeed, the peril be so great, then let all else go, and bid your father to take you back to domremy with him. there, at least, you will be safe and happy!" her eyes were deep with the intensity of her emotion. "it may not be," she said with grave gentleness and decision. "i had hoped it for myself, but it may not be. my word is pledged. my king has commanded. i, too, must learn, in my measure, the lesson of obedience, even unto death!" her hands were clasped; her eyes were lifted heavenwards. a shaft of light from the sinking sun struck in through the coloured window behind her, and fell across her face with an indescribable glory. i was still upon my knees and i could not rise, for it seemed to me as though at that moment another presence than that of the maid was with us in the room. my limbs shook. my heart seemed to melt within me; and yet it was not fear which possessed me, but a mysterious rapture the like of which i can in no wise fathom. how long it lasted i know not. the light had faded when i rose to my feet and met her wonderful gaze. she spoke just a few words. "now you know what help is given us in our hours of need. my faithful knight need never mourn or weep for me; for that help and comfort will never be withheld. of this i have the promise clear and steadfast!" i was with her when she went to see her father. it was dark, and the old man sat with his brother-in-law, durand laxart--he who had helped her to her first interview with de baudricourt--in one of the best rooms of the inn. since it had been known that these men were the kinsfolk of the maid, everything of the best had been put at their disposal by the desire of the citizens, and horses had been provided for them for their return to domremy. for the city of rheims was filled with joy at that which had been accomplished, and the maid was the hero of the hour. but i could see that there was a cloud upon the old man's face--the father's; and he did not rise as his daughter entered--she before whom nobles had learnt to bend, and who sat at the council of the king. his sombre eyes dwelt upon her with a strange expression in their depths. his rugged face was hard; his knotted hands were closely locked together. the maid gazed at him for a moment, a world of tender emotions in her eyes; and then she quickly crossed the room and threw herself at his feet. "my father! my father! my father!" the cry seemed to come from her heart, and i saw the old man's face quiver and twitch; but he did not touch or embrace her. "it is the dress he cannot bear," whispered laxart distressfully to me, "it is as gall and wormwood to him to see his daughter go about in the garb of a man." the maid's face was raised in tender entreaty; she had hold of her father's hands by now. she was covering them with kisses. "o my father, have you no word for me? have you not yet forgiven your little jeanne? i have but obeyed our blessed lord and his holy saints. and see how they have helped and blessed and guided me! o my father, can you doubt that i was sent of them for this work? how then could i refuse to do it?" then the stern face seemed to melt with a repressed tenderness, and the father bent and touched the girl's brow with his lips. she uttered a little cry of joy, and would have flung herself into his arms; but he held her a little off, his hands upon her shoulders, and he looked into her face searchingly. "that may have been well done, my daughter; i will not say, i will not judge. but your task is now accomplished--your own lips have said it; and yet you still are to march with the king's army, i am told. you love better the clash of arms, the glory of victory, the companionship of soldiers and courtiers to the simple duties which await you at home, and the protection of your mother's love. that is not well. that is what no modest maiden should choose. i had hoped and believed that i should take my daughter home with me. but she has chosen otherwise. do i not well to be angry?" the maid's face was buried in her hands. she would have buried it in her father's breast, but he would not have it so. i could have wept tears myself at the sight of her sorrow. i saw how utterly impossible it would be to make this sturdy peasant understand the difficulty of the maid's position, and the claims upon her great abilities, her mysterious influence upon the soldiers. the worthy prud'homme would look upon this as rather a dishonour and disgrace than a gift from heaven. the words i longed to speak died away upon my tongue. i felt that to speak them would be a waste of breath. moreover, i was here as a spectator, not as a partaker in this scene. i held the document, signed and sealed by the king, which i was prepared to read to the visitors from domremy. that was to be my share in this interview--not to interpose betwixt father and child. for a few moments there was deep silence in the room; then the maid took her hands from her face, and she was calm and tranquil once again. she possessed herself of one of her father's reluctant hands. "my father, i know that this thing is hard for you to understand. it may be that my brothers could explain it better than i, had you patience to hear them. but this i say, that i long with an unspeakable desire to return home with you, for i know that the path i must tread will darken about me, and that the end will be sad and bitter. and yet i may not choose for myself. my king commands. my country calls. i must needs listen to those voices. oh, forgive me that i may not follow yours, nor the yearnings of mine own heart!" the old man dropped her hand and turned away. he spoke no word; i think perchance his heart was touched by the tone of the maid's voice, by the appealing look in her beautiful eyes. but he would not betray any sign of weakness. he turned away and leant his brow upon the hand with which he had grasped the high-carved ledge of the panelled shelf beside him. the maid glanced at him, her lips quivering; and she spoke again in a brighter tone. "and yet, my father, though you may not take me back with you, you shall not go away empty-handed. i have that to send home with you which shall, i trust, rejoice the hearts of all domremy; and if you find it hard to forgive that which your child has been called upon to do, yet methinks there will be others to bless her name and pray for her, when they learn that which she has been able to accomplish." then she made a little sign to me, and i stepped forward with the parchment, signed and sealed, and held it towards the maid's father. he turned to look at me, and his eyes widened in wonder and some uneasiness; for the sight of so great a deed filled him and his kinsman with a vague alarm. "what is it?" he asked, turning full round, and i made answer: "a deed signed by the king, exempting domremy from all taxation, henceforward and for ever, by right of the great and notable services rendered to the realm by one born and brought up there--jeanne d'arc, now better known as the maid of orleans." the two men exchanged wondering glances, and over laxart's face there dawned a smile of intense joy and wonder. "nay, but this is a wonderful thing--a miracle--the like of which was never heard or known before! i pray you, noble knight, let me call hither those of our kinsfolk and acquaintance from domremy as have accompanied us hither, that they may hear and understand this marvellous grace which hath been done us!" i was glad enough that all should come and hear that which i read to them from the great document, explaining every phrase that was hard of comprehension. it was good to see how all faces glowed and kindled, and how the people crowded about the maid with words of gratitude and blessing. only the father stood a little apart, sorrowful and stern. and yet i am sure that his heart, though grieved, was not altogether hardened against his child; for when at the last, with tears in her eyes (all other farewells being said), she knelt at his feet begging his blessing and forgiveness, he laid his hand upon her head for a moment, and let her embrace his knees with her arms. "go your way, my girl, if needs must be. your mother will ever pray for you, and i trust the lord whom you serve will not leave you, though his ways are too hard of understanding for me." that was all she could win from him; but her heart was comforted, i think; for as she reached her lodging and turned at the door of her room to thank me in the gracious way she never forgot, for such poor services as i had rendered, she said in a soft and happy voice: "i think that in his heart my father hath forgiven me!" chapter xviii. how i last saw the maid. i had thought, when i started, to tell the whole tale of the angelic maid and all the things which she accomplished, and all that we who companied with her did and saw, both of success and of failure. but now my brain and my pen alike refuse the task. i must needs shorten it. i think my heart would well nigh break a second time, if i were to seek to tell all that terrible tale which the world knows so well by now. ah me! ah me!--what a world is this wherein we live, in which such things can be! i wake sometimes even yet in the night, a cold sweat upon my limbs, my heart beating to suffocation, a terror as of great darkness enfolding my spirit. and is it wonderful that it should be so? can any man pass through such experiences as mine, and not receive a wound which time can never wholly heal? and though great things have of late been done, and the pope and his court have swept away all such stain and taint as men sought to fasten upon the pure nature of the wonderful and miraculous maid, we who lived through those awful days, and heard and saw the things which happened at that time, can never forget them, and (god pardon me if i sin in this) never forgive. there are men, some living still, and some passed to their last account, whom i would doom to the nethermost hell for their deeds in the days of which i must now write--though my words will be so few. and (with horror and shame be it spoken) many of these men were consecrated servants of the holy church, whose very office made the evil of their deeds to stand out in blacker hues. it is easy for us to seek to fasten the blame of all upon the english, who in the end accomplished the hideous task; but at least the english were the foes against whom she had fought, and they had the right to hold her as an adversary whose death was necessary for their success; and had the english had their way she would have met her end quickly, and without all that long-drawn-out agony and mockery of a trial, every step and process of which was an outrage upon the laws of god and of man. no, it was frenchmen who doomed her to this--frenchmen and priests. the university of paris, the officers of the inquisition, the bishops of the realm. these it was who formed that hideous court, whose judgments have now been set aside with contumely and loathing. these it was who after endless formalities, against which even some of themselves were forced in honour to protest, played so base and infamous a part--culminating in that so-called "abjuration," as false as those who plotted for it--capped by their own infamous trick to render even that "abjuration" null and void, that she might be given up into the hands of those who were thirsting for her life! oh, how can i write of it? how can i think of it? there be times yet when bertrand, and guy de laval, and i, talking together of those days, feel our hearts swell, and the blood course wildly in our veins, and truly i do marvel sometimes how it was that we and others were held back from committing some desperate crime to revenge those horrid deeds, wrought by men who in blasphemous mockery called themselves the servants and consecrated priests of god. but hold! i must not let my pen run away too fast with me! i am leaping to the end, before the end has come. but, as i say, i have no heart to write of all those weary months of wearing inactivity, wherein the spirit of the maid chafed like that of a caged eagle, whilst the counsellors of the king--her bitter foes--had his ear, and held him back from following the course which her spirit and her knowledge alike advocated. and yet we made none so bad a start. "we must march upon paris next," spoke the maid at the first council of war held in rheims after the coronation of the king; and la hire and the soldiers applauded the bold resolve, whilst la tremouille and other timid and treacherous spirits sought ever to hold him back. i often thought of the words spoken by the maid to those friends of hers from domremy, when she bid them farewell on the evening of which i have just written. "are you not afraid, jeanne," they asked, "of going into battle, of living so strange a life, of being the companion of the great men of the earth?" and she, looking at them with those big grave eyes of hers, had made answer thus: "i fear nothing but treachery." i wondered when she spoke what treachery she was to meet with; but soon it became all too apparent. the king's ministers were treacherously negotiating with false burgundy, some say with the regent bedford himself. they cared not to save france. they cared only to keep out of harm's way--to avoid all peril and danger, and to thwart the maid, whose patriotism and lofty courage was such a foil to their pusillanimity and cowardice. so that though she led us to the very walls of paris, and would have taken the whole city without a doubt, had she been permitted, though the duc d'alencon, now her devoted adherent, went down upon his very knees to beg of the king to fear nothing, but trust all to her genius, her judgment; he could not prevail, and orders were sent forth to break down the bridge that she had built for the storming party to pass over, and that the army should fall back with their task undone! oh, the folly, the ingratitude, the baseness of it all! how well do i remember the face of the maid, as she said: "the king's word must be obeyed; but truly it will take him seven years--ah, and twenty years now--to accomplish that which i would do for him in less than twenty days!" think of it--you who have seen what followed. was paris in the king's hands in less than seven years? were the english driven from france in less than twenty? she was wounded, too; and had been forcibly carried away from the field of battle; but it was against her own will. she would have fought through thick and thin, had the king's commands not prevailed; and even then she begged to be left with a band of soldiers at st. denis. "my voices tell me to remain here," she said; but alas! her voices were regarded no longer by the king, whose foolish head and cowardly heart were under other influences than that of the maid, to whom he had promised so much such a short while since. and so his word prevailed, and we were perforce obliged to retreat from those walls we had so confidently desired to storm. and there in the church of st. denis, where she had knelt so many hours in prayer and supplication, the maid left her beautiful silver armour, which had so often flashed its radiant message of triumph to her soldiers, and with it that broken sword--broken outside the walls of paris, and which no skill had sufficed to mend--which had been taken from st catherine's church in fierbois. it was not altogether an unwonted act for knights to deposit their arms in churches, though the custom is dying away, with so many other relics of chivalry; but there was something very strange and solemn in this act of the maid. it was to us a significant sign of that which she saw before her. we dared not ask her wherefore she did it. something in her sad, gentle face forbade us. but i felt the tears rising to my eyes as i watched her kneel long in prayer when the deed was done, and i heard stifled sobs arising from that end of the building where some women and children knelt. for the maid was ever the friend of all such, and never a woman or child whom she approached, whether she were clad in peasant's homespun or in shining coat of mail, but gave her love and trust and friendship at sight. henceforth the maid went clothed in a light suit of mail, such as any youthful knight might wear. she never spoke again of her fair white armour, or of the sword which had shivered in her hand, none save herself knew how or when. alas! for the days of glory which had gone before! why did we keep her with the king's armies, when the monarch's ear was engrossed by adverse counsel, and his heart turned away from her who had been his deliverer in the hour of his greatest need? methinks she would even now have returned home, but for the devotion of the soldiers and the persuasions of the duc d'alencon, and of some of the other generals, amongst whom the foremost were dunois and la hire. these chafed equally with the maid at the supine attitude of the king; and the duke, his kinsman, spoke out boldly and fearlessly, warning him of the peril he was doing to his kingdom, and the wrong to the maid who had served him so faithfully and well, and to whom he had made such fair promises. but for the present all such entreaties or warnings fell upon deaf ears. the time for the king's awakening had not yet come. nevertheless, we had our days of glory still, under the banner of the maid, when, after many months of idleness, the springtide again awoke the world, and she sallied forth strong in the assurance of victory, whilst fortress after fortress fell before her, as in the days of yore. oh, how joyous were our hearts! now did we believe truly that the tide had turned, and that we were marching on to victory. but upon the maid's face a shadow might often be seen to rest; and once or twice when i would ask her of it, she replied in a low, sorrowful voice: "my year is well-nigh ended. something looms before me. my voices have told me to be ready for what is coming. i fear me it will be my fate to fall into the hands of the foe!" i would not believe it! almost i was resolved to plunge mine own dagger into her heart sooner than she should fall into the hand of the pitiless english. but woe is me! i was not at her side that dreadful evening at compiegne, when this terrible mishap befell. i had been stricken down in that horrid death trap, when, hemmed in between the ranks of the burgundians and english, we found our retreat into the city cut off. was it treachery? was it incapacity upon the part of the leaders of the garrison, or what was the reason that no rush from the city behind took the english in the rear, and effected the rescue of the maid? i know not--i have never known--all to me is black mystery. i was one of those to see the peril first, and with bertrand and guy de laval beside me, to charge furiously upon the advancing foe, crying aloud to others to close round the maid and bear her away into safety, whilst we engaged the enemy and gave them time. that is all i know. all the rest vanishes in the mists. when these mists cleared away, bertrand and i were in the home of sir guy, tended by his mother and grandmother--both of whom had seen and loved well the wonderful maid--and she was in a terrible prison, some said an iron cage, guarded by brutal english soldiers, and declared a witch or a sorceress, not fit to live, nor to die a soldier's death, but only to perish at the stake as an outcast from god and man. months had passed since the battle of compiegne. fever had had me fast in its grip all that while, and the news i heard on recovery brought it all back again. bertrand and guy were in little better case. we were like pale ghosts of our former selves during those winter months, when, hemmed in by snow, we could learn so little news from without, and could only eat out our hearts in rage and grief. with the spring came the news of the trial at rouen--the bitter hatred of bishop cauchon--the awful consummation he had vowed to bring about. i know not whether it were folly to hope such a thing, but we three knights made instantly for the coast and crossed to england, to seek the ear of the young king there, and plead the cause of the maid before him. i need not say how our mission failed. i care not to recall those sickening days of anxiety and hope deferred, and utter defeat at the last. heartbroken and desperate we returned; and made our way to rouen. the whole city was in confusion. need i say more? that very day, within an hour, the maid, the messenger from god, the deliverer of the king, the saviour of france, was to die by fire, to perish as a heretic. and the king whom she had saved had not lifted a hand to save her; the country she had delivered from a crushing disgrace, stood idly by to watch her perish thus! oh, the shame!--the treachery!--the horror! let me not try to write of it. the king has striven now to make amends; but i wonder how he feels sometimes when he sees the may sunshine streaming over the fair earth--over that realm which he now rules from sea to sea, when he thinks of the maid who was led forth in that blaze of glory to meet her fiery doom. o god of heaven look down and judge! how shall i tell of the sight i beheld? suddenly i came upon it--mad with my grief, desperate with horror and despair. i saw the face of the maid again! i saw her upraised eyes, and her hands clasped to her breast, holding thereto a rough wooden cross, whilst someone from below held high in the air a crucifix taken from some church and fastened upon a long wand. the pile on which she stood was so high--so high; they said it was done in mercy, that the rising clouds of smoke might choke her ere the flame touched her. she was clad in a long white garment from head to foot; her hair had grown and fell about and back from her face in a soft cloud gilded by the sun's rays. her face was rapt--smiling--yes, i will swear it--smiling, as a child smiles up into the face of its father. there was an awful hush throughout the wide place. everything reeled and swam before me; but i saw that face--that serene and smiling face, wan and pale, but tranquil and glad and triumphant. then came the rush of smoke, and the glare of ruddy fire. a stifled cry, like one immense groan rose from below--above in the reek and blaze all was silent. but from out that fire i saw--yes, and another saw it too (an english soldier, rushing to add a faggot to the pyre, a token of his hate to the maid), and it so wrought upon him that he dropped his burden, fell upon his knees and was like to die of the fear--i saw a white dove rise from the smoke wreaths of that ghastly pile, hover a moment, just touched by the glare of the fire, and then dart heavenwards as upon eagle's wings. yes, i saw it. to the day of my death will i swear it. i saw what she had seen in vision long ago; and upon my heart there fell a strange sense of peace and calm. it had not hurt her--it had been as she once said. her saints had been with her to the end. she had triumphed. all was well. called of her country, she had answered nobly to the call. her country had awarded her a fiery death; but in that fiery chariot she had ascended to the lord, in whom she trusted, hereafter to receive the crown of glory that fadeth not away. produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) [illustration: s. e. e. edmonds engraved by geo. e. perine, n. y. engraved for the nurse & spy.] nurse and spy in the union army: comprising the adventures and experiences of a woman in hospitals, camps, and battle-fields. by s. emma e. edmonds. with illustrations. published by subscription only by w. s. williams & co., hartford, conn. jones bros. & co., philadelphia and cincinnati. j. a. stoddard & co., chicago, ill. 1865. entered according to act of congress in the year 1864, by w. s. williams & company in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states, for the district of connecticut. printed by wiley, waterman, & eaton, hartford, conn. to the sick and wounded soldiers of the army of the potomac, this volume is respectfully inscribed by the author. embellishments. portrait engraved on steel by geo. e. perine, n. y. disguises and other scenes, drawn and engraved on wood by r. o'brien, new york. page. portrait of the author, frontispiece. hospital tree at fair oaks, 17 catering for hospitals, 94 disguised as a contraband, 113 making hoe-cake for a sick rebel, 153 acting orderly on the battle-field, 178 riding for life, 217 relief for the famishing, 228 disguised as female contraband, 263 an interesting patient, 272 playing possum, 295 paying a debt of gratitude, 316 bursting of a shell in vicksburg, 358 publishers' notice. no apology is necessary for adding one more to the numerous "war books" which already fill a large space in american literature; for, to the general reader, nothing connected with the rebellion can be more interesting than the personal experiences of those who have been intimately associated with the different phases of military life, in camp, field, and hospital. the "nurse and spy" is simply a record of events which have transpired in the experience and under the observation of one who has been on the field and participated in numerous battles--among which are the first and second bull run, williamsburg, fair oaks, the seven days in front of richmond, antietam, and fredericksburg--serving in the capacity of "spy" and as "field nurse" for over two years. while in the "secret service" as a "spy," which is one of the most hazardous positions in the army--she penetrated the enemy's lines, in various disguises, no less than eleven times; always with complete success and without detection. her efficient labors in the different hospitals as well as her arduous duties as "field nurse," embrace many thrilling and touching incidents, which are here most graphically described. should any of her readers object to some of her disguises, it may be sufficient to remind them it was from the purest motives and most praiseworthy patriotism, that she laid aside, for a time, her own costume, and assumed that of the opposite sex, enduring hardships, suffering untold privations, and hazarding her life for her adopted country, in its trying hour of need. in the opinion of many, it is the privilege of woman to minister to the sick and soothe the sorrowing--and in the present crisis of our country's history, to aid our brothers to the extent of her capacity--and whether duty leads her to the couch of luxury, the abode of poverty, the crowded hospital, or the terrible battle field--it makes but little difference what costume she assumes while in the discharge of her duties.--perhaps she should have the privilege of choosing for herself whatever may be the surest protection from insult and inconvenience in her blessed, self-sacrificing work. the moral character of the work,--being true to virtue, patriotism, and philanthropy--together with the fine embellishments and neat mechanical execution--will, we trust, render it an interesting and welcome visitor at every fireside. contents. chapter i. pages 17-28. commencement of the war--my home and my duty--i enlist in the cause--excitement at the west--troops on the march--mobs at baltimore--temporary hospitals--unavoidable evils--begging for comforts--supplies for the sick--camp hospitals--thunder storms in camp--a dying officer--soldiers in the public buildings--preparations for the advance. chapter ii. pages 29-41. marching orders--removal of the sick--a young patient--visit from his mother--march toward manassas--collecting supplies--fatigues of the march--preparations for battle--a camp prayer meeting--divisions detailed--my place on the field--"rather close quarters"--a battle sunday--skulking from the field. chapter iii. pages 41-54. water for the wounded--col. cameron killed--scenes on the battle-field--burnside's brigade--capture of griffin's and rickett's batteries--rebels reinforced--the panic and retreat--the wounded at centerville--my reconnoissance--an insane woman on the field--hiding from the enemy--return to the wounded--expectation of capture--escape from the rebels--my walk to alexandria--footsore and weary--arrival in washington--letters from dead soldiers' friends. chapter iv. pages 55-70. washington after bull run--demoralization of the army--sick soldiers--hospital scenes--extracts from my journal--sympathy of soldiers--fishing for the sick--a fish-loving dutchman--reorganization of the army--a visit to the pickets--picket duties and dangers--the army inactive--mcclellan's address--marching orders again--embarkation of the army for fortress monroe--the crowded transports--description of the monitor--her build, armament, turret and engines. chapter v. pages 71-82. arrival at fortress monroe--the village of hampton--visiting the contrabands--arrival of fugitives--a real "camp meeting"--feeding the negroes--camp miseries--mules--miss periwinkle's mules--the coquettish, the moral, the histrionic, and the pathetic mule--our jack--lines of love--my box and presents--a three-story cake--a serenade and surprise party--good and bad chaplains--the morals of the army--slanders about soldiers. chapter vi. pages 82-97. the march to yorktown--scarcity of supplies--camp cookery--different characters in the army--arrival of trains--change of camp--trying to shell us out--the old saw-mill--a constant target--assaults on our outposts--a rebel appeal--yorktown and vicinity--the situation--balloon reconnoissances--prof. lowe on high--rebel vixens--a curious visit--a strange hostess--she tries to kill me--i wound her and capture a prisoner--a conversion--the secesh woman becomes a federal nurse. chapter vii. pages 97-109. a lost friend--death of lieutenant james v.--his burial--the grave by night--my vow--a soldier-chaplain--recognitions in heaven--doubts and dissatisfaction--capture of a spy--my examinations at headquarters--my disguise as a spy--i am metamorphosed into a contraband--hired as a cook--biscuit making--the doctor's tea. chapter viii. pages 110-121. my first secret expedition--my work among contrabands--pickaxe, shovel and wheelbarrow--counting the guns in a rebel fortification--a change of work--carrying water to the rebel soldiers--generals lee and johnson--the rebel force at yorktown--a council of war--turning white again--a rebel spy--lieutenant v.'s murderer--on picket duty--my return to our lines--i put on uniform and make my report. chapter ix. pages 122-137. evacuation of yorktown--our army on the double quick--pursuit of the fugitives--the enemy's works--a battle--on the field--a "wounded," and not injured colonel--carrying the wounded--fort magruder silenced--the victory won--burying the dead--story of a ring--wounded rebels--a brave young sergeant--christian soldiers--a soldier's death-bed--closing scenes--last words. chapter x. pages 137-146. mcclellan's despatch from ewell's farm--call for reinforcements--news from norfolk--description of the merrimac--the engagement in hampton roads--first and last fight of the merrimac--victory of the monitor--advance on the peninsula--the battle song--a muddy march--on the chickahominy--critical position of general banks--the president's despatches--mcclellan's reply. chapter xi. pages 147-160. another disguise--i become an irish peddler--fever and ague--a night of suffering in the swamp--retrospection--lost in the swamp--cannon my guides--a sick rebel--i find something to eat--my new patient--sympathy for suffering--talk with a dying rebel--a willing detention--extemporizing a light--the last hour--soldiers of christ--the chamber of death. chapter xii. pages 161-173. am i a stoic?--someone's darling--completing my disguise--another start for the rebel lines--peppering my eyes--challenged by a picket--a cockney sentinel--getting information--plenty of beef, but no salt--rice and corn meal bread--preparing to visit headquarters--interview with major mckee--the major's misplaced confidence--return for the body of the rebel captain--my look-out for yankees--new orders. chapter xiii. pages 173-186. our communications with the chickahominy--porter's successes--despatches to the president--his reply--hanover court house--terrible storm and flood--hopes of the enemy--a sudden and strong attack--i act as an orderly--through the flood--my return and report--joyful news--my own disaster--scenes in the old mill--waiting on the wounded--my sufferings by the roadside--a hard-hearted chaplain--a stumbling block. chapter xiv. pages 186-196. renewal of the battle--victory for the federal arms--address to the army--more despatches--my battle trophy--pony reb's performances--the hospital tree--touching scenes--bishop simpson--the cross and the flag--after the battle--delays by storms, floods and mud--mcclellan's call for more men--in readiness to march--promised reinforcements. chapter xv. pages 197-206. leave of absence--visit to the williamsburg hospitals--effective preaching--yorktown revisited--longings--white house landing--tired of idleness--preparations to return to duty--stuart's cavalry raid--a train fired into--fair oaks grove--the strength of the enemy--trying times on the peninsula--the endurance of our soldiers--labors of mr. alvord. chapter xvi. pages 207-219. change of base across the peninsula--evacuation of white house--the movement--battle of mechanicsville--gaines' mill--a repulse--mcclellan's despatch--hospitals in danger--convalescent officers--lending my horse--a lottery--inspecting farm stock--catching a colt--danger of capture--riding for life--between two fires. chapter xvii. pages 219-233. withdrawal to malvern hill--the soldier's last watch--trowbridge's grave--scenes in a hospital--capture of the wounded--a noble surgeon--line of battle--hard fighting--the enemy repulsed--hunting for food--in a farm-house--perilous position--securing the spoils--relief of the famishing--sublime scene--on the march--general keyes--gun-boats--arrival at harrison's landing--sad condition of troops--our losses--mcclellan's address to the army. chapter xviii. pages 233-248. return of old acquaintances--the wounded colonel--i visit washington--military display--epaulets--aristocracy--spirit of johnny bull--soldiers' free library--contraband camp--negro testimony--patient charley--painful position--brother's last conversation--return to the army--christian commission--general howard's speech. chapter xix. pages 249-260. my constant companion--dispelling the blues--gentle nellie--faces in the hospital--asleep and awake--my horse again--at harrison's landing--impatient to move--dissatisfaction in the army--retreat from richmond--return to newport news--suspicious quarters--searching the house and finding rebel soldiers--thanks to the army--our arrival at acquia creek. chapter xx. pages 261-273. pope's army--a general s request--again a contraband--entering the rebel lines as a spy--my escape to the federal lines--in peril--kearney killed--crawling through the woods--burial of a picket--looking for a general--mr. negative--mcclellan and pope--the battle of antietam--a touching death-scene--an interesting patient--burial of a female soldier. chapter xxi. pages 273-285. after antietam--surgeons on the field--the hospitals--lieutenant-colonel dwight mortally wounded--a brutal surgeon--a wounded captain--agony from thirst--christian soldiers--praying and fighting--fops on the field--a rebel programme--pennsylvania to be stripped--camp life--daily routine--burial services. chapter xxii. pages 286-296. a military execution--the preparations--the death--harper's ferry--old john brown--contrast--advance into virginia--condition of the army--a dreary ride--a green guard--seeking shelter--a guerrilla fight--my horse killed--playing possum--my pockets picked--a narrow escape--return to camp--an interesting meeting. chapter xxiii. pages 297-308. mcclellan removed--his address--burnside in command--on the march--my ride--old battlefields--sad sights--"yankee skulls"--"bone ornaments"--falmouth--shelling fredericksburg--pontoon bridges--occupation of the city--aide-de-camp--dreadful slaughter--a gallant major--strange sights--dark night--death of general bayard--someone's pet--recrossing the rappahannock. chapter xxiv. pages 309-318. after the battle--sufferings of the wounded--general burnside's order--"stuck in the mud"--hooker in command--western campaign--cavalry reconnoissance--another disguise--again in dixie--a wedding party--in a trap--rebel conscript--on the march--a rebel captain--a fierce engagement--paying a debt of gratitude--again under the old flag. chapter xxv. pages 319-330. appointed detective--i visit louisville--secesh acquaintances--seeking employment--peddling--rebel spies--acting as clerk--trapping spies--start for vicksburg--pro-slavery troops--cruelty to negroes--visiting hospitals--touching scenes--an armless soldier--patient suffering--triumphant death--rally round the flag--western chaplains--soldiers' testimony--effect of prayer in battle--carrying the wounded. chapter xxvi. pages 331-340. a unionist from the rebel army--his testimony--southern hospitals--patriotism--female recruiting--crinoline--"sweet little man"--confederate system--north and south contrasted--rebel impressment--brothers' cruelty--dying for the union--fate of a tennessee patriot--on the mississippi--invisible attraction--an important question--moral sublimity--contrabands jubilee. chapter xxvii. pages 341-353. arrival at vicksburg--its surroundings--grant's army--assault on the rebel works--the seven color-bearers--pemberton's harangue--in the trenches--sufferings of the wounded--pemberton's proposed capitulation--grant's reply--terms of surrender--occupation of the city--loss of the enemy--complimentary letter--grant's success--attachment of his soldiers--"fighting dick"--gold lace--rebel sufferings--sights in vicksburg--incidents of the siege--cave life. chapter xxviii. pages 353-362. western gibraltar--the "lead miners"--the palmetto exchanged for the stars and stripes--enthusiasm of troops--sufferings forgotten--i am attacked by fever--unfit for duty--"vicksburg is ours"--spirit yearnings--"rock me to sleep mother"--imposition of steamboat officers--grant's care for his men--bursting of a shell in camp--consequences--speechless agony--i am released from duty--my trip to cairo--miss mary safford--arrival at washington. chapter xxix. pages 362-373. review of hospital and camp life--questions answered--behind the scenes--blessed employment--living past scenes over again--my most important labors--mother and son--strange power of sympathy--hero's repose--officers and men--the bravest are kindest--general sedgwick--battle scenes--mr. alvord's description--volunteer surgeons--heart sickening sights--an awful picture--female nurses--sentimental--patriotic--medical department--young surgeons--anecdotes. chapter xxx. pages 374-384. closing incidents--professor lowe's balloon--fitz john porter's adventure--his upward flight--reconnoitering from a dangerous position--cool courage--enthusiastic greeting--an earnest inquirer--a baptism in the army--preaching by moonlight--a magnificent scene--a wedding in camp--gay times--a contrast--hospital in winchester--spirit of revenge--sable heroine--a white darkey--colored soldiers--conclusion. [illustration: hospital tree at fair oaks.--page 191.] nurse and spy. chapter i. commencement of the war--my home and my duty--i enlist in the cause--excitement at the west--troops on the march--mobs at baltimore--temporary hospitals--unavoidable evils--begging for comforts--supplies for the sick--camp hospitals--thunders storms in camp--a dying officer--soldiers in the public buildings--preparations for the advance. early in the spring of 1861, i was returning from the far west, and as i sat waiting for the train which was to bear me to my adopted home in new england, and was meditating upon the events which had transpired during the past few months, the record of which was destined to blacken the fair pages of american history, i was aroused from my reverie by a voice in the street crying "new york herald--fall of fort sumter--president's proclamation--call for seventy-five thousand men!" this announcement startled me, while my imagination portrayed the coming struggle in all its fearful magnitude. war, civil war, with all its horrors seemed inevitable, and even then was ready to burst like a volcano upon the most happy and prosperous nation the sun ever shone upon. the contemplation of this sad picture filled my eyes with tears and my heart with sorrow. it is true, i was not an american--i was not obliged to remain here during this terrible strife--i could return to my native land where my parents would welcome me to the home of my childhood, and my brothers and sisters would rejoice at my coming. but these were not the thoughts which occupied my mind. it was not my intention, or desire, to seek my own personal ease and comfort while so much sorrow and distress filled the land. but the great question to be decided, was, what can i do? what part am i to act in this great drama? i was not able to decide for myself--so i carried this question to the throne of grace, and found a satisfactory answer there. five years previous to the time of which i write, i left my rural home, not far from the banks of the st. john's river, in the province of new brunswick, and made my way to the united states. an insatiable thirst for education led me to do this, for i believed then, as now, that the "foreign missionary" field was the one in which i must labor, sooner or later. i came here a stranger, with but little to recommend me to the favorable notice of the good people, except a letter from the pastor of the church to which i belonged, and one from my class-leader--notwithstanding, i found kind friends to help me in all my undertakings, and whether in business, education, or spiritual advancement, i have been assisted beyond my highest expectation. i thank god that i am permitted in this hour of my adopted country's need to express a tithe of the gratitude which i feel toward the people of the northern states. ten days after the president's proclamation was issued, i was ready to start for washington, having been employed by the government, and furnished with all the necessary equipments. i was not merely to go to washington and remain there until a battle had been fought and the wounded brought in, and then in some comfortable hospital sit quietly and fan the patients, after the surgeon had dressed their wounds; but i was to go to the front and participate in all the excitement of the battle scenes, or in other words, be a "field nurse." the great west was stirred to its center, and began to look like a vast military camp. recruiting offices were filled with men eager to enroll their names as defenders of their country--and women were busily engaged in preparing all the comforts that love and patriotism could suggest, for those who were so soon to go forth to victory or to death, while the clash of arms and strains of martial music almost drowned the hum of industry, and war became the theme of every tongue. about this time i witnessed the departure of the first western troops which started for washington. the regiments were drawn up in line--fully equipped for their journey--with their bright bayonets flashing in the morning sunlight. it was on the principal street of a pleasant little village of about a thousand inhabitants, where there was scarcely a family who had not a father, husband, son, or brother in that little band of soldiers who stood there ready to bid them farewell, perhaps for years--perhaps forever. a farewell address was delivered by the village pastor, and a new testament presented to each soldier, with the following inscription: "put your trust in god--and keep your powder dry." then came the leave-taking--but it is too painful to dwell upon--the last fond word was spoken, the last embrace given, then came the order "march"--and amid the cheers of the citizens--with banners proudly floating, and the bands playing "the star spangled banner," they moved forward on their way to the capital. on looking back now upon the scenes of that morning, notwithstanding i have looked upon others much more thrilling since then, yet i cannot recall that hour without feelings of deep emotion. while i stood there and beheld those manly forms convulsed with emotion, and heard the sobs of those whom they were leaving behind, i could only thank god that i was free and could go forward and work, and was not obliged to stay at home and weep. a few hours more, and i, too, was on my way to washington. when i reached baltimore i found the city in an uproar--mobs were gathered in the streets and the utmost excitement prevailed: and as the crowded cars moved through the city toward the depot, the infuriated mob threw showers of stones, brickbats, and other missiles, breaking the windows and wounding some of the soldiers. some of the men could not forbear firing into the crowd--notwithstanding their orders were to the contrary--however, it had a good effect, for the mob soon dispersed; they probably had not forgotten the sixth massachusetts and the pennsylvania troops which had passed through a short time before. the cars soon reached the depot, and started immediately for washington--where we arrived in due time--weary, and in great need of food and sleep. soon after reaching washington i commenced visiting the temporary hospitals which were prepared to receive the soldiers who arrived there sick. the troops came pouring in so fast, and the weather being extremely warm, all the general hospitals were soon filled, and it seemed impossible to prepare suitable, or comfortable, accommodations for all who required medical attention. there are many things in connection with this war that we are disposed to find fault with, and we think the blame rests upon such and such individuals--but after investigating the matter, we find that they are all owing to a combination of circumstances entirely beyond the control of those individuals--and it requires time to bring about the desired results. this has been my experience with regard to the hospital department. after walking through the streets for hours on a sultry southern day in search of one of those temporary hospitals, i would find a number of men there delirious with fever--others had been sun-struck and carried there--but no physician to be found in attendance. then, i would naturally come to the conclusion that the surgeons were all slack concerning their duty--but upon going to the office of the surgeon in charge of that department, would find that a certain number of surgeons were detailed every morning to visit those hospitals, and were faithfully performing their duty; but that the number of hospitals and patients were increasing so fast that it required all day to make the tour. consequently the last ones visited were obliged to wait and suffer--without any blame attaching to the surgeons. then another great evil was to be remedied--there were thousands of sick men to be taken care of--but for these the government had made no provision as regards more delicate kinds of food--nothing but hard bread, coffee and pork, for sick and well, alike. the sanitary commission had not yet come into operation and the consequence was our poor sick soldiers suffered unspeakably from want of proper nourishment. i was speaking upon this subject one day to chaplain b. and his wife--my constant companions in hospital labor--when mrs. b. suggested that she and i should appeal to the sympathies of the ladies of washington and georgetown, and try our hand at begging. i agreed to the proposal at once, and wondered why i had not thought of it myself--among all my schemes for alleviating the sufferings of these men, it had never entered into my head to _beg_ for them. we decided to go to georgetown first and if we succeeded there, to canvass washington. so we started, and commenced operations by calling first upon a clergyman's wife. we made inquiry there with regard to our prospects of success, and the sentiments of the ladies generally upon the war question, and finding that the majority were in our favor, we started again quite hopefully--but not until the lady above mentioned had given us an order on her grocer to the amount of five dollars. i gave sister b. the credit of that, for i had introduced her as the wife of the rev. mr. b., chaplain of the 7th. then i suggested that we should separate for a few hours--she to take one street and i another, so that we might sooner get through the city. my next call was at a doctor's mansion, but i did not find the lady at home; however, i learned that the doctor in question kept a drug-store near by; she might be there; went, but found no lady; thought fit to make my business known to the doctor, and the consequence was, half a dozen bottles of blackberry wine and two of lemon syrup, with a cordial invitation to call again. so prospered our mission throughout the day, and at the close of it we had a sufficient supply of groceries, brandy, ice, jellies, etc., to fill our little ambulance; and oh, what a change those little delicacies wrought upon our poor sick boys. we were encouraged by that day's work, to continue our efforts in that direction, and finally made dr. w.'s store a depot for the donations of those kind friends who wished to assist us in restoring to health the defenders of our beloved country. typhoid fever began to make its appearance in camp, as the burning sun of june came pouring down upon us, and the hospitals were soon crowded with its victims. it was then that my labors began in earnest, and as i went from tent to tent, ministering to the wants of those delirious, helpless men, i wondered if there ever was a "missionary field" which promised a richer harvest, than the one in which i was already engaged; and oh, how thankful i was that it was my privilege to take some small part in so great a work. i shall notice, briefly, the manner in which the hospitals are conducted in camp. there are large tents furnished for hospital purposes, which will accommodate from twenty to twenty-five men. these tents are usually put up in the most pleasant and shady part of the camp; the inside is nicely leveled, and board floors laid, if boards can be procured, if not, rubber blankets are laid down instead. sometimes there are straw ticks and cot bedsteads furnished, but not in sufficient quantity to supply all the hospitals. along each side of the tent the sick are laid, on blankets or cots, leaving room to pass between the beds. in the center of the tent stands a temporary board table, on which are kept books, medicines, et cetera. the hospital corps consists of a surgeon, an assistant surgeon, a hospital steward, a ward-master, four nurses, two cooks, and a man of all work to carry water, cut wood, and make himself generally useful. the immediate care of the sick devolves upon those four nurses, who are generally detailed from the ranks, each one being on duty six hours without intermission. the surgeons visit the patients twice every day, oftener if required; the prescriptions are filled by the hospital steward, and the medicine is administered by the nurses. the nurses are usually very kind to the sick, and when off duty in the hospital, spend much of their time in digging drains around the tents, planting evergreens, and putting up awnings, all of which add much to the coolness and comfort of the hospital. draining the grounds is a very important part of hospital duty, for when those terrible thunder-storms come, which are so frequent in the south, it is morally impossible to keep the tent floors from being flooded, unless there are drains all around the tents. great excitement prevails in camp during those tempests--the rain comes down in torrents, while the wind blows a hurricane--lifting the tents from the ground, and throwing everything into wild confusion. i have seen a dozen men stand for hours around one hospital, holding down the ropes and tent poles to prevent the sick from being exposed to the raging elements. in one of those storms, i saw a tent blown down, in which one of our officers lay suffering from typhoid fever. we did our best to keep him dry until a stretcher could be procured, but all in vain. notwithstanding we wrapped him in rubber blankets and shawls, yet the rain penetrated them all, and by the time he was carried to a house, a quarter of a mile distant, he was completely drenched. he was a noble fellow and i love to speak of him. mrs. b. and i remained with him alternately until he died, which was five days from that time. we sent for his wife, who arrived just in time to see him die. he was unconscious when she came, and we were standing around his cot watching every shadow which the sable wing of advancing death cast upon his features, and eagerly looking for a single ray of returning reason. he looked up suddenly, and seeing his wife standing weeping, he beckoned her to come to him. kneeling beside him, she bent her ear close to the lips of the dying man. he whispered distinctly, "i am going--the way is bright, don't weep--farewell!" a little later he was asked, "what is the foundation of your hope of heaven?" his face was calm and beautiful in its expression, and his splendid dark eyes lit up with holy confidence and trust, as he replied, "christ--christ!" these were his last words. glorious words for a dying soldier. he lingered a few hours, and then quietly and peacefully breathed out his life. so passed away one of the most exemplary men it has ever been my lot to meet, either in the army or elsewhere. the same day, the sorrowing widow, with the remains of her beloved and noble husband, started for her northern home; and that christian patriot now sleeps in a beautiful little cemetery near the city of detroit, michigan, having rendered up his life a willing sacrifice for his country. mrs. b. was desirous of visiting some of the public buildings in washington and wished me to accompany her. i did so, but found that it was almost impossible to get along through the crowded streets. the gallant troops were coming in by thousands from every loyal state in the union. the capitol and white house were common places of resort for soldiers. arms were stacked in the rotunda of the one and the lobbies of the other, while our "noble boys in blue" lounged in the cushioned seats of members of congress, or reclined in easy chairs in the president's mansion. camps of instruction were prepared near the city, while every hillside and valley for miles around was thickly dotted with snow white tents. soldiers drilling, fatigue parties building forts, artillery practicing, and the supply trains moving to and from the various headquarters, presented a picture deeply interesting. as i rode from camp to camp and contemplated that immense army concentrating its force on the banks of the potomac, and saw with what zeal and enthusiasm the soldiers entered upon their duties, i could but feel assured of the speedy termination of the conflict, and look forward with eager anticipation to the day when that mighty host would advance upon the enemy, and like an overwhelming torrent sweep rebellion from the land. chapter ii. marching orders--removal of the sick--a young patient--visit from his mother--march toward manassas--collecting supplies--fatigues of the march--preparations for battle--a camp prayer meeting--divisions detailed--my place on the field--"rather close quarters"--a battle sunday--skulking from the field. marching orders received to-day--two days more, and the army of the potomac will be on its way to bull run. i find this registered in my journal july 15th, 1861, without any comment whatever. but i do not require a journal to refresh my memory with regard to the events of those two days of preparation which followed their announcement. the army of the potomac was soon to meet the enemy for the first time--a great battle was to be fought. oh, what excitement and enthusiasm that order produced--nothing could be heard but the wild cheering of the men, as regiment after regiment received their orders. the possibility of a defeat never seemed to enter the mind of any. all the sick in camp now were to be sent to washington, clothes changed, knapsacks packed, letters written home, packages sent to the express office, etc. after all was done, everything in readiness, and the sick men tenderly laid in the ambulances, mrs. b. said: "now let us go to every ambulance and bid the boys good-bye." as we passed along from one ambulance to another, speaking words of encouragement to each soldier, many a tear would start from grateful eyes, and many a feeble voice uttered an earnest "god bless you," while others would draw from their bosoms some cherished relic, and give as a token of remembrance. oh how hard it was to part with those men, with whom we had watched so many weary days and nights--we felt that they had, truly, "become endeared to us through suffering." there was one patient, however, we did not put into an ambulance, and who was a great source of anxiety to us. he lay there upon a stretcher close by, waiting to be carried to a house not far distant. he was young, not seventeen, with clear blue eyes, curly auburn hair, and a broad, white brow; his mother's pride, and an only son. two weeks previously he had been attacked with typhoid fever. the surgeon said, "you may do all you can for him, but it is a hopeless case." mrs. b. had devoted most of her time to him and i was often called to assist her. he was delirious and became quite unmanageable at times, and it required all the strength we possessed to keep him in bed; but now the delirium of fever had passed away and he was helpless as an infant. we had written for his mother to come if possible, and had just received a letter from her, stating that she was on her way to washington; but would she come before we were obliged to leave? oh, we hoped so, and were anxiously looking for her. the ambulances started with their freight of emaciated, suffering men. slowly that long train wound its way toward the city looking like a great funeral procession, and sadly we turned to our remaining patient, who was deeply affected at the removal of his comrades. he was then carried to the house above mentioned and a nurse left to take care of him, while we were obliged to prepare for our own comfort on the long weary march which was so near at hand. we had just commenced to pack our saddle-bags, when we heard an unusual noise, as of some one crying piteously, and going out to learn the cause of the excitement, whom should we find but the mother of our handsome blue-eyed patient. she had called at the surgeon's tent to inquire for her son, and he had told her that all the sick had been sent to washington, he having forgotten for the moment, the exception with regard to her son. the first words i heard were spoken in the most touching manner--"oh, why did you send away my boy? i wrote you i was coming; oh, why did you send him away!" i shall never forget the expression of that mother's face as she stood there wringing her hands and repeating the question. we very soon rectified the mistake which the surgeon had made, and in a few moments she was kneeling by the bedside of her darling boy, and we returned rejoicing that it had been our privilege to "deliver him to his mother." oh, how many, who come to washington in search of loved ones, are caused unnecessary pain, yes, weeks of torturing suspense and fruitless search, in consequence of some little mistake on the part of a surgeon, a nurse, or some person who is supposed to know just where the sought for are to be found. the 17th of july dawned bright and clear, and everything being in readiness, the army of the potomac took up its line of march for manassas. in gay spirits the army moved forward, the air resounding with the music of the regimental bands, and patriotic songs of the soldiers. no gloomy forebodings seemed to damp the spirits of the men, for a moment, but "on to richmond," was echoed and re-echoed, as that vast army moved rapidly over the country. i felt strangely out of harmony with the wild, joyous spirit which pervaded the troops. as i rode slowly along, watching those long lines of bayonets as they gleamed and flashed in the sunlight, i thought that many, very many, of those enthusiastic men who appeared so eager to meet the enemy, would never return to relate the success or defeat of that splendid army. even if victory should perch upon their banners, and i had no doubt it would, yet many noble lives must be sacrificed ere it could be obtained. the main column reached fairfax toward evening and encamped for the night. col. r.'s wife of the second ----, mrs. b. and myself were, i think, the only three females who reached fairfax that night. the day had been extremely hot, and not being accustomed to ride all day beneath a burning sun, we felt its effects very sensibly, and consequently, hailed with joy the order to encamp for the night. notwithstanding the heat and fatigue of the day's march, the troops were in high spirits, and immediately began preparing supper. some built fires while others went in search of, and appropriated, every available article which might in any way add to the comfort of hungry and fatigued men. the whole neighborhood was ransacked for milk, butter, eggs, poultry, etc. which were found insufficient in quantity to supply the wants of such a multitude. there might have been heard some stray shots fired in the direction of a field where a drove of cattle were quietly grazing; and soon after the odor of fresh steak was issuing from every part of the camp. i wish to state, however, that all "raids" made upon hen-coops, etc. were contrary to the orders of the general in command, for during the day i had seen men put under arrest for shooting chickens by the roadside. i was amused to hear the answer of a hopeful young darkey cook, when interrogated with regard to the broiled chickens and beef steak which he brought on for supper. col. r. demanded, in a very stern voice, "jack, where did you get that beef steak and those chickens?" "massa, i'se carried dem cl'ar from washington; thought i'd cook 'em 'fore dey sp'il'd"; and then added, with a broad grin, "i aint no thief, i aint." col. r. replied: "that will do, jack, you can go now." then the colonel told us how he had seen jack running out of a house, as he rode along, and a woman ran out calling after him with all her might, but jack never looked behind him, but escaped as fast as he could, and was soon out of sight. said he, "i thought the young rascal had been up to some mischief, so i rode up and asked the woman what was the matter, and found he had stolen all her chickens; i asked her how much they were worth; she "reckoned" about two dollars. i think she made a pretty good hit, for after i paid her, she told me she had had only two chickens." supper being over, pickets posted, and camp guards detailed, all became quiet for the night. early the next morning the reveille beat, the whole camp was soon in motion, and after a slight breakfast from our haversacks the march was resumed. the day was very hot, and we found great difficulty in obtaining water, the want of which caused the troops much suffering. many of the men were sun-struck, and others began to drop out of the ranks from exhaustion. all such as were not able to march were put into ambulances and sent back to washington. toward noon, the tedium of the march began to be enlivened by sharp volleys of musketry, in the direction of the advance guard; but those alarms were only occasioned by our skirmishers, pouring a volley into everything which looked as if it might contain a masked battery, or a band of the enemy's sharpshooters. considerable excitement prevailed throughout the day, as we were every hour in expectation of meeting the enemy. carefully feeling its way, however, the army moved steadily on, investigating every field, building, and ravine, for miles in front and to the right and left, until it reached centerville, where we halted for the night. the troops now began to feel the effects of the march, and there was evidently a lack of that pic-nic hilarity which had characterized them the day before. several regiments had been supplied with new shoes the day before leaving camp, and they found by sad experience, that they were not the most comfortable things to march in, as their poor blistered feet testified; in many cases their feet were literally raw, the thick woolen stockings having chafed the skin off. mrs. b. and i, having provided ourselves before leaving camp, with a quantity of linen, bandages, lint, ointment, etc. found it very convenient now, even before a shot had been fired by the enemy. our surgeons began to prepare for the coming battle, by appropriating several buildings and fitting them up for the wounded--among others the stone church at centerville--a church which many a soldier will remember, as long as memory lasts. late that evening as i was returning from this church, accompanied by mr. and mrs. b., i proposed that we should walk through the entire camp to see how the boys were employed, on this, the eve of their first battle. we found many engaged in writing by the glimmering light of the camp-fire--soldiers always carry writing materials on a march; some were reading their bibles, perhaps with more than usual interest; while others sat in groups, conversing in low earnest tones; but the great mass were stretched upon the ground, wrapped in their blankets, fast asleep, and all unconscious of the dangers of the morrow. we were about to return to our quarters in a log cabin built by the rebel soldiers, and which had been evacuated only a few days previous, when we heard several voices singing in a little grove not far from camp. we turned and walked toward the grove, until we could hear distinctly, the words of the following beautiful hymn: "o, for a faith that will not shrink, though press'd by every foe, that will not tremble on the brink of any earthly woe; that will not murmur or complain beneath the chastening rod, but, in the hour of grief and pain, will lean upon its god; a faith that shines more bright and clear when tempests rage without; that, when in danger, knows no fear, in darkness knows no doubt." "ah!" exclaimed mr. b., "i recognize willie l.'s voice there. i understand now; this is willie's prayer meeting night, and notwithstanding the fatigue of the march and blistered feet, he has not forgotten it." we drew nearer to listen to and enjoy the exercises unperceived, for no sooner had the last words of the hymn died away on the still midnight air, than willie's clear voice rose in prayer, filling the grove with its rich, pathetic tones. he prayed for victory on the morrow, for his comrades, for loved ones at home, and his voice grew tremulous with emotion, as he plead with the saviour to comfort and support his widowed mother, if he should fall in battle. then followed a practical talk about being faithful soldiers of jesus, as well as of their beloved country; of the necessity of being prepared at any moment, to lay down the cross and take up the crown. one after another prayed and spoke, until about a dozen--and that included the whole number present--had addressed the throne of grace, and testified to the power of the gospel of christ in the salvation of sinners. no one was called upon to pray or speak, no one said he had nothing to say and then talked long enough to prove it, no one excused his inability to interest his brethren, and no time was lost by delay, but every one did his duty, and did it promptly. we retired feeling refreshed and encouraged. after ascertaining the position of the enemy, gen. mcdowell ordered forward three divisions, commanded by heintzelman, hunter and tyler, miles being left in reserve at centerville. sunday morning before dawn, those three divisions moved forward, presenting a magnificent spectacle, as column after column wound its way over the green hills and through the hazy valleys, with the soft moonlight falling on the long lines of shining steel. not a drum or bugle was heard during the march, and the deep silence was only broken by the rumbling of artillery, the muffled tread of infantry, or the low hum of thousands of subdued voices. the divisions separated where three roads branch off toward bull run, each taking the road leading to its respective position. soon the morning broke bright and clear, bringing the two contending armies in plain sight of each other. the enemy was posted on heights that rose in regular slopes from the shore crowned here and there by earthworks. the woods that interfered with his cannon ranges had all been cut away, and his guns had a clean sweep of every approach. on our side the descent was more gradual, and covered with a dense forest. the roar of artillery soon announced that the battle had actually commenced. mrs. b. and myself took our position on the field, according to orders, in connection with gen. heintzelman's division, having delivered our horses to jack for safe keeping, with strict orders to remain where he was, for we might require them at any moment. i imagine now, i see mrs. b., as she stood there, looking as brave as possible, with her narrow brimmed leghorn hat, black cloth riding habit, shortened to walking length by the use of a page, a silver-mounted seven-shooter in her belt, a canteen of water swung over one shoulder and a flask of brandy over the other, and a haversack with provision, lint, bandages, adhesive plaster, etc. hanging by her side. she was tall and slender, with dark brown hair, pale face, and blue eyes. chaplain b. sat upon his horse looking as solemn as if standing face to face with the angel of death. the first man i saw killed was a gunner belonging to col. r.'s command. a shell had burst in the midst of the battery, killing one and wounding three men and two horses. mr. b. jumped from his horse, hitched it to a tree, and ran forward to the battery; mrs. b. and i following his example as fast as we could. i stooped over one of the wounded, who lay upon his face weltering in his blood; i raised his head, and who should it be but willie l. he was mortally wounded in the breast, and the tide of life was fast ebbing away; the stretchers were soon brought, and he was carried from the field. seeing the disaster from a distance, col. r. rode up to the battery, and as he was engaged in giving orders, a solid shot came whizzing by in such close proximity to his head, that it stunned him for a moment; but soon recovering, he turned up the side of his head and shrugged his shoulders, a peculiarity of his, and in his usual nasal twang, said, "rather close quarters," and rode away, apparently as unconcerned as if it had been a humming bird which crossed his path. but not content with admonishing the colonel, the same shot struck my poor little flask of brandy which lay near me on a drum-head, shattering it as spitefully as if sent by the combined force of the order of "good templars." now the battle began to rage with terrible fury. nothing could be heard save the thunder of artillery, the clash of steel, and the continuous roar of musketry. oh, what a scene for the bright sun of a holy sabbath morning to shine upon! instead of the sweet influences which we associate with the sabbath--the chiming of church bells calling us to the house of prayer, the sabbath school, and all the solemn duties of the sanctuary, there was confusion, destruction and death. there was no place of safety for miles around; the safest place was the post of duty. many that day who turned their backs upon the enemy and sought refuge in the woods some two miles distant, were found torn to pieces by shell, or mangled by cannon ball--a proper reward for those who, insensible to shame, duty, or patriotism, desert their cause and comrades in the trying hour of battle, and skulk away cringing under the fear of death. chapter iii. water for the wounded--col. cameron killed--scenes on the battle-field--burnside's brigade--capture of griffin's and rickett's batteries--rebels reinforced--the panic and retreat--the wounded at centerville--my reconnoissance--an insane woman on the field--hiding from the enemy--return to the wounded--expectation of capture--escape from the rebels--my walk to alexandria--footsore and weary--arrival in washington--letters from dead soldiers' friends. i was hurried off to centerville, a distance of seven miles, for a fresh supply of brandy, lint, etc. when i returned, the field was literally strewn with wounded, dead and dying. mrs. b. was nowhere to be found. had she been killed or wounded? a few moments of torturing suspense and then i saw her coming toward me, running her horse with all possible speed, with about fifty canteens hanging from the pommel of her saddle. to all my inquiries there was but one answer: "don't stay to care for the wounded now; the troops are famishing with thirst and are beginning to fall back." mr. b. then rode up with the same order, and we three started for a spring a mile distant, having gathered up the empty canteens which lay strewn on the field. this was the nearest spring; the enemy knew it, and consequently had posted sharpshooters within rifle range to prevent the troops being supplied with water. notwithstanding this, we filled our canteens, while the minnie balls fell thick and fast around us, and returned in safety to distribute the fruits of our labor among the exhausted men. we spent three hours in this manner, while the tide of battle rolled on more fiercely than before, until the enemy made a desperate charge on our troops driving them back and taking full possession of the spring. chaplain b.'s horse was shot through the neck and bled to death in a few moments. then mrs. b. and i dismounted and went to work again among the wounded. not long afterwards col. cameron, brother of the secretary of war, came dashing along the line, shouting, "come on boys, the rebels are in full retreat." the words had scarcely been uttered when he fell, pierced to the heart by a bullet. surgeon p. was on the ground in an instant, but nothing could be done for him; his wound was mortal, and he soon ceased to breathe. there was no time to carry off the dead; we folded his arms across his breast, closed his eyes, and left him in the cold embrace of death. still the battle continues without cessation; the grape and canister fill the air as they go screaming on their fearful errand; the sight of that field is perfectly appalling; men tossing their arms wildly calling for help; there they lie bleeding, torn and mangled; legs, arms and bodies are crushed and broken as if smitten by thunder-bolts; the ground is crimson with blood; it is terrible to witness. burnside's brigade is being mown down like grass by the rebel batteries; the men are not able to stand that terrible storm of shot and shell; they begin to waver and fall back slowly, but just at the right moment capt. sykes comes up to their relief with his command of regulars. they sweep up the hill where burnside's exhausted, shattered brigade still lingers, and are greeted with a shout of joy, such as none but soldiers, who are almost overpowered by a fierce enemy, and are reinforced by their brave comrades, can give. onward they go, close up to the cloud of flame and smoke rolling from the hill upon which the rebel batteries are placed--their muskets are leveled--there is a click, click--a sheet of flame--a deep roll like that of thunder, and the rebel gunners are seen to stagger and fall. the guns become silent, and in a few moments are abandoned. this seems to occasion great confusion in the rebel ranks. regiments were scattered, and officers were seen riding furiously and shouting their orders, which were heard above the roar and din of battle. captain griffin's and rickett's batteries are ordered forward to an eminence from which the rebels have been driven. they come into position and open a most destructive fire which completely routs the enemy. the battle seems almost won and the enemy is retreating in confusion. hear what rebel gen. johnson says of his prospects at that time, in his official report: "the long contest against a powerful enemy, and heavy losses, especially of field officers, had greatly discouraged the troops of gen. bee and col. evans. the aspect of affairs was critical." another writes: "fighting for hours under a burning sun, without a drop of water, the conduct of our men could not be excelled; but human endurance has its bounds, and all seemed about to be lost." this goes to prove that it was a desperately hard fought battle on both sides, and if no fresh troops had been brought into the field, the victory would assuredly have been ours. but just as our army is confident of success, and is following up the advantage which it has gained, rebel reinforcements arrive and turn the tide of battle. two rebel regiments of fresh troops are sent to make a flank movement in order to capture griffin's and rickett's batteries. they march through the woods, reach the top of the hill, and form a line so completely in our rear as to fire almost upon the backs of the gunners. griffin sees them approach, but supposes them to be his supports sent by major barry. however looking more intently at them, he thinks they are rebels, and turns his guns upon them. just as he is about to give the order to fire, major b. rides up shouting, "they are your supports, don't fire." "no, sir, they are rebels," replied capt. griffin. "i tell you, sir, they are your supports," said major b. in obedience to orders the guns were turned again, and while in the act of doing so, the supposed supports fired a volley upon the gunners. men and horses went down in an instant. a moment more and those famous batteries were in the hands of the enemy. the news of this disaster spread along our lines like wildfire; officers and men were alike confounded; regiment after regiment broke and ran, and almost immediately the panic commenced. companies of cavalry were drawn up in line across the road, with drawn sabers, but all was not sufficient to stop the refluent tide of fugitives. then came the artillery thundering along, drivers lashing their horses furiously, which greatly added to the terror of the panic stricken thousands crowded together en masse. in this manner we reached centerville where order was in some measure restored. mrs. b. and i made our way to the stone church around which we saw stacks of dead bodies piled up, and arms and legs were thrown together in heaps. but how shall i describe the scene within the church at that hour. oh, there was suffering there which no pen can ever describe. one case i can never forget. it was that of a poor fellow whose legs were both broken above the knees, and from the knees to the thighs they were literally smashed to fragments. he was dying; but oh, what a death was that. he was insane, perfectly wild, and required two persons to hold him. inflammation had set in, and was rapidly doing its work; death soon released him, and it was a relief to all present as well as to the poor sufferer. i went to another dying one who was bearing patiently all his sufferings. oh, poor pale face! i see it now, with its white lips and beseeching eyes; and then the touching inquiry, "do you think i'll die before morning?" i told him i thought he would, and asked: "has death any terrors for you?" he smiled that beautiful trusting smile which we sometimes see on the lips of the dying saint, as he replied: "oh no, i shall soon be asleep in jesus"; and then in a low plaintive voice he repeated the verse commencing, asleep in jesus, blessed sleep. while i stood beside him thus, someone tapped me on the shoulder. on turning round i was beckoned to the side of one who was laid in a corner, on the floor, with his face toward the wall. i knelt beside him and asked: "what can i do for you, my friend?" he opened his eyes, with an effort, and said, "i wish you to take that," pointing to a small package which lay beside him, "keep it until you get to washington, and then, if it is not too much trouble, i want you to write to mother and tell her how i was wounded, and that i died trusting in jesus." then i knew that i was kneeling beside willie l. he was almost gone--just ready "to lay down the cross and take up the crown." he signed to me to come nearer; and as i did so, he put his hand to his head and tried to separate a lock of hair with his fingers, but his strength failed; however, i understood that he wished me to cut off a lock to send to his mother with the package. when he saw that i understood him he seemed pleased that his last request was complied with. chaplain b. came and prayed with him, and while he was praying, the happy spirit of willie returned to him who gave it. heaven gained in this instance another soul, but there was mourning in that widowed mother's heart. i thought, oh, how appropriate were the words of the poet to that lonely mother: not on the tented field, o terror-fronted war! not on the battle-field, all thy bleeding victims are; but in the lowly homes where sorrow broods like death, and fast the mother's sobs rise with each quick-drawn breath. that dimmed eye, fainting close- and she may not be nigh! 'tis mothers die--o god! 'tis but we mothers die. our hearts and hands being fully occupied with such scenes as these, we thought of nothing else. we knew nothing of the true state of affairs outside, nor could we believe it possible when we learned that the whole army had retreated toward washington, leaving the wounded in the hands of the enemy, and us, too, in rather an unpleasant situation. i could not believe the stern truth, and was determined to find out for myself. consequently i went back to the heights, where i had seen the troops stack their guns and throw themselves upon the ground at night-fall, but no troops were there. i thought then that they had merely changed their position, and that by going over the field i should certainly find them. i had not gone far before i saw a camp fire in the distance. supposing that i had found a clue to the secret, i made all haste toward the fire; but as i drew near i saw but one solitary figure sitting by it, and that was the form of a female. upon going up to her i recognised her as one of the washerwomen of our army, i asked her what she was doing there and where the army had gone. said she: "i don't know anything about the army; i am cooking my husband's supper, and am expecting him home every minute; see what a lot of things i have got for him," pointing to a huge pile of blankets, haversacks and canteens which she had gathered up, and over which she had constituted herself sentinel. i soon found out that the poor creature had become insane. the excitement of battle had proved too much for her, and all my endeavors to persuade her to come with me were unavailing. i had no time to spare, for i was convinced that the army had really decamped. once more i started in the direction of centerville. i had not gone more than a few rods before i heard the clatter of horses' hoofs. i stopped, and looking in the direction of the fire i had just quitted, i saw a squad of cavalry ride up to the woman who still sat there. fortunately i had no horse to make a noise or attract attention, having left mine at the hospital with the intention of returning immediately. it was evident to my mind that those were the enemy's cavalry, and that it was necessary for me to keep out of sight if possible until they were gone. then the thought came to me that the woman at the fire knew no better than to tell them that i had been there a few minutes before. happily, however, i was near a fence, against which there were great piles of brush, and as the night was becoming very dark and it was beginning to rain, i thought i could remain undetected, at least until morning. my suspicions proved to be correct. they were coming toward me, and compelling the woman to come and show them the direction i had taken; i decided to crawl under one of those brush heaps, which i did, and had scarcely done so, when up they came and stopped over against the identical pile in which i was concealed. one of the men said "see here old woman, are you sure that she can tell us if we find her?" "oh, yes, she can tell you, i know she can," was the woman's reply. they would go away a little distance and then come back again; by and by they began to accuse the woman of playing a false game; then they swore, threatened to shoot her, and she began to cry. all this was an interesting performance i admit; but i did not enjoy it quite so much, in consequence of being rather uncomfortably near the performers. at last they gave it up as a hopeless case and rode away taking the woman with them, and i was left in blissful ignorance of the mystery which they wished me to unravel, and for once in my life i rejoiced at not having my "curiosity" gratified. i remained there until the last echo of their retreating footsteps had died away in the distance; then i came forth very cautiously and made my way to centerville, where the interesting intelligence awaited me that mr. and mrs. b. had gone, and had taken my horse, supposing that i had been taken prisoner. the village of centerville was not yet occupied by the rebels, so that i might have made my escape without any further trouble; but how could i go and leave those hospitals full of dying men, without a soul to give them a drink of water? i must go into that stone church once more, even at the risk of being taken prisoner. i did so--and the cry of "water," "water," was heard above the groans of the dying. chaplain b. had told them before leaving that they would soon be in the hands of the enemy--that the army had retreated to washington, and that there was no possibility of removing the wounded. there they lay, calmly awaiting the approach of their cruel captors, and apparently prepared to accept with resignation any fate which their cruelty might suggest. oh, how brave those men were! what moral courage they possessed! nothing but the grace of god and a right appreciation of the great cause in which they had nobly fought, and bled, could reconcile them to such suffering and humiliation. they all urged me to leave them, and not subject myself to the barbarous treatment which i would be likely to receive if i should be taken prisoner, adding--"if you do stay the rebels will not let you do anything for us." one of the men said: "dr. e. has only been gone a little while--he extracted three balls from my leg and arm, and that, too, with his pen-knife. i saw twenty-one balls which he had taken from the limbs of men in this hospital. he was determined to remain with us, but we would not consent, for we knew he would not be allowed to do any more for us after the rebels came; and you must go too, and go very soon or they will be here." after placing water within the reach of as many as could use their arms, and giving some to those who could not--i turned to leave them, with feelings that i cannot describe; but ere i reached the door a feeble voice called me back--it was that of a young officer from massachusetts; he held in his hand a gold locket, and as he handed it to me he said--"will you please to open it?" i did so, and then held it for him to take a last look at the picture which it contained. he grasped it eagerly and pressed it to his lips again and again. the picture was that of a lady of rare beauty, with an infant in her arms. she seemed scarcely more than a child herself; on the opposite side was printed her name and address. while he still gazed upon it with quivering lip, and i stood there waiting for some tender message for the loved ones, the unmistakable tramp of cavalry was heard in the street--a moment more, and i had snatched the locket from the hands of the dying man and was gone. the streets were full of cavalry, but not near enough to discover me, as the night was exceedingly dark and the rain came down in torrents. one glance was sufficient to convince me that i could not escape by either street. the only way was to climb a fence and go across lots, which i immediately did, and came out on the fairfax road about a mile from the village, and then started for washington on the "double quick." i did not reach alexandria until noon the next day--almost exhausted, and my shoes literally worn off my feet. having walked all the way from centerville in the rain, without food, together with want of sleep and the fatigue of the past week, caused me to present rather an interesting appearance. i remained there two days before i could persuade my limbs to bear the weight of my body. i then made my way to washington, where i found my friends quite anxious lest i had fallen into the hands of the enemy. a number of men from whom i had received packages, money, etc., before going into battle, and who reached washington two days before i did, had come to the conclusion that they had taken a pretty sure way of sending those precious things to richmond, and therefore my arrival was rather an important event, and i was greeted with a hearty welcome. my first duty was to attend to those dying soldiers' requests, which i did immediately by writing to their friends and inclosing the articles which i had received from the hands of those loved ones who were now cold in death. the answers to many of those letters lie before me while i write, and are full of gratitude and kind wishes. one in particular i cannot read without weeping. it is from willie's mother. the following are a few extracts: "oh, can it be that my willie will return to me no more? shall i never see my darling boy again, until i see him clothed in the righteousness of christ--thank god i shall see him then--i shall see him then." now with all the mother's heart torn and quivering with the smart, i yield him, 'neath the chastening rod, to my country and my god. "oh, how i want to kiss those hands that closed my darling's eyes, and those lips which spoke words of comfort to him in a dying hour. the love and prayers of a bereaved mother will follow you all through the journey of life." yes, he is gone to return to her no more on earth, but her loss is his eternal gain. servant of god well done! rest from thy loved employ; the battle fought, the victory won, enter thy master's joy. he at least had won a victory--notwithstanding the defeat of the federal army. yes, a glorious victory. chapter iv. washington after bull run--demoralization of the army--sick soldiers--hospital scenes--extracts from my journal--sympathy of soldiers--fishing for the sick--a fish-loving dutchman--reorganization of the army--a visit to the pickets--picket duties and dangers--the army inactive--mcclellan's address--marching orders again--embarkation of the army for fortress monroe--the crowded transports--descriptions of the monitor--her build and armament--her turret and engines. washington at that time presented a picture strikingly illustrative of military life in its most depressing form. to use the words of captain noyes--"there were stragglers sneaking along through the mud inquiring for their regiments, wanderers driven in by the pickets, some with guns and some without, while every one you met had a sleepy, downcast appearance, and looked as if he would like to hide his head from all the world." every bar-room and groggery seemed filled to overflowing with officers and men, and military discipline was nearly, or quite, forgotten for a time in the army of the potomac. while washington was in this chaotic condition, the rebel flag was floating over munson's hill, in plain sight of the federal capital. when general mcclellan took command of the army of the potomac, he found it in a most lamentable condition, and the task of reorganizing and disciplining such a mass of demoralized men was a herculean one. however, he proved himself equal to the task, and i think, that even his enemies are willing to admit, that there is no parallel case in history where there has been more tact, energy and skill displayed in transforming a disorganized mob into an efficient and effective army; in fact, of bringing order out of confusion. the hospitals in washington, alexandria and georgetown were crowded with wounded, sick, discouraged soldiers. that extraordinary march from bull run, through rain, mud, and chagrin, did more toward filling the hospitals than did the battle itself. i found mrs. b. in a hospital, suffering from typhoid fever, while chaplain b. was looking after the temporal and spiritual wants of the men with his usual energy and sympathy. he had many apologies to offer "for running away with my horse," as he termed it. there were many familiar faces missing, and it required considerable time to ascertain the fate of my friends. many a weary walk i had from one hospital to another to find some missing one who was reported to have been sent to such and such a hospital; but after reading the register from top to bottom i would find no such name there. perhaps on my way out, in passing the open door of one of the wards, who should i see, laid upon a cot, but the very object of my search, and upon returning to the office to inform the steward of the fact, i would find that it was a slight mistake; in registering the name; instead of being josiah phelps, it was joseph philips; only a slight mistake, but such mistakes cause a great deal of trouble sometimes. measels, dysentery and typhoid fever were the prevailing diseases after the retreat. after spending several days in visiting the different hospitals, looking after personal friends, and writing letters for the soldiers who were not able to write for themselves, i was regularly installed in one of the general hospitals. i will here insert an extract from my journal: "aug. 3d, 1861. georgetown, d. c. have been on duty all day. john c. is perfectly wild with delirium, and keeps shouting at the top of his voice some military command, or, when vivid recollections of the battle-field come to his mind, he enacts a pantomime of the terrible strife--he goes through the whole manual of arms as correctly as if he were in the ranks; and as he, in imagination, loads and fires in quick succession, the flashing of his dying eye and the nervous vigor of his trembling hands give fearful interest to the supposed encounter with the enemy. when we tell him the enemy has retreated, he persists in pursuing; and throwing his arms wildly around him he shouts to his men--'come on and fight while there is a rebel left in virginia!' my friend lieut. m. is extremely weak and nervous, and the wild ravings of j. c. disturb him exceedingly. i requested surgeon p. to have him removed to a more quiet ward, and received in reply--'this is the most quiet ward in the whole building.' there are five hundred patients here who require constant attention, and not half enough nurses to take care of them. "oh, what an amount of suffering i am called to witness every hour and every moment. there is no cessation, and yet it is strange that the sight of all this suffering and death does not affect me more. i am simply eyes, ears, hands and feet. it does seem as if there is a sort of stoicism granted for such occasions. there are great, strong men dying all around me, and while i write there are three being carried past the window to the dead room. this is an excellent hospital--everything is kept in good order, and the medical officers are skillful, kind and attentive." the weary weeks went slowly by, while disease and death preyed upon the men, and the "soldiers' cemetery" was being quickly filled with new made graves. the kindness of the soldiers toward each other is proverbial, and is manifested in various ways. it is a common thing to see soldiers stand guard night after night for sick comrades--and when off duty try, to the utmost of their skill, to prepare their food in such a way as to tempt the appetite of those poor fellows whom the surgeons "do not consider sufficiently ill to excuse from duty;" but their comrades do, and do not hesitate to perform their duty and their own also. and when brought to camp hospital, helpless, worn down by disease, and fever preying upon their vitals--those brave and faithful comrades do not forsake them, but come several times every day to inquire how they are, and if there is anything they can do for them. and it is touching to see those men, with faces bronzed and stern, tenderly bending over the dying, while the tears course down their sunburnt cheeks. there is scarcely a soldier's grave where there is not to be seen some marks of this noble characteristic of the soldier--the tastefully cut sod, the planted evergreen, the carefully carved head-board, all tell of the affectionate remembrance of the loved comrade. you will scarcely find such strong and enduring friendship--such a spirit of self-sacrifice, and such noble and grateful hearts, as among the soldiers. i think this is one reason why the nurses do not feel the fatigue of hospital duty more than they do; the gratitude of the men seems to act as a stimulant, and the patient, uncomplaining faces of those suffering men almost invariably greet you with a smile. i used to think that it was a disgrace for any one, under ordinary circumstances, to be heard complaining, when those mutilated, pain-racked ones bore everything with such heroic fortitude. i was not in the habit of going among the patients with a long, doleful face, nor intimating by word or look that their case was a hopeless one, unless a man was actually dying, and i felt it to be my duty to tell him so. cheerfulness was my motto, and a wonderful effect it had sometimes on the despondent, gloomy feelings of discouraged and homesick sufferers. i noticed that whenever i failed to arouse a man from such a state of feeling, it generally proved a hopeless case. they were very likely not to recover if they made up their minds that they must die, and persisted in believing that there was no alternative. there were a great many pleasant things in connection with our camp hospital duties. i really enjoyed gratifying some of the whims and strange fancies of our poor convalescent boys, with whom i had become quite a favorite. as i would pass along through the hospital in the morning, i would generally have plenty of assistants in helping to make out my programme for the day. for one i had to write letters, read some particular book to another, and for a third i must catch some fish. i remember on one occasion of an old dutchman, a typhoid convalescent, declaring that he could eat nothing until he could get some fresh fish, and of course i must procure them for him. "but," said i, "the doctor must be consulted; perhaps he will not think it best for you to have any fish yet, until you are stronger." "vell, i dusn't care for te toctor--he dusn't know vat mine appetite ish--te feesh i must have. oh, mine cot! i must have some feesh." and the old man wept like a child at the thought of being disappointed. "hunter's creek" was about a mile and a half from camp, where mr. and mrs. b. and i had spent many an hour fishing and shooting at the flocks of wild ducks which frequented it; so, after providing myself with hook, line and bait, i made my way to the creek. soon after i commenced operations i drew up a monstrous eel, which defied all my efforts to release the hook from its jaws. at last i was obliged to draw it into camp by means of the line--and i was amply repaid for my trouble on seeing the delight of the convalescents, and especially of my old dutchman, who continued to slap his hands together and say--"dhat ish coot--dhat ish coot." the eel was handed over to the cook to be prepared for dinner, and to the great satisfaction of the dutchman he was permitted to enjoy a portion of it. the army under mcclellan began to assume a warlike aspect--perfect order and military discipline were observed everywhere among the soldiers. it was a splendid sight to see those well drilled troops on dress-parade--or being reviewed by their gallant young commander, upon whose shoulders the "stars" sat with so much grace and dignity. the monotony of camp life began to be broken up by armed reconnoissances and skirmishing between the pickets. our lines were pushed forward to lewinsville on the right, and to munson's hill in front. the pickets of both armies were posted in plain sight of each other, only separated by the beautiful corn-fields and peach-orchards. picket firing was kept up all along the lines on both sides, notwithstanding that flags of truce had been sent in by both parties, several times, requesting that this barbarous practice might cease. as soon as mrs. b. was so far recovered as to be able to ride, we started one day, accompanied by mr. b. and dr. e., for munson's hill, to see the pickets on duty. we rode along until we came within a short distance of the rifle pits where our men were, when the rebels fired upon us. we turned and rode back until we came to a clump of trees, where we dismounted, hitched our horses, and proceeded the rest of the way on foot--part of the way having to crouch along on our hands and knees, in order to escape the bullets which were whistling above us. we reached the rifle pits in safety, which were close to a rail fence, the rails of which were perfectly riddled with minnie balls. while we sat there looking through an opera-glass, whiz! came a ball and struck the rail against which my head rested; glancing, it passed through dr. e.'s cap and lodged in the shoulder of one of the men. we remained there until the firing ceased, then returned to camp, carrying with us the wounded man. picket duty is one of the most perilous and trying duties connected with the service. a clergyman-soldier writing upon this subject, briefly describes it: "picket duty at all times is arbitrary, but at night it is trebly so. no monarch on a throne, with absolute power, is more independent, or exercises greater sway for the time being, than a private soldier stationed on his beat with an enemy in front. darkness veils all distinctions. he is not obliged to know his own officers or comrades, or the commanding general, only through the means of the countersign. with musket loaded and capped he walks his rounds, having to do with matters only of life and death, and at the same time clothed with absolute power. it is a position of fearful importance and responsibility, one that makes a man feel solemn and terribly in earnest. often, too, these posts are in thick woods, where the soldier stands alone, cut off from camp, cut off from his fellows, subject only to the harrassings of his own imagination and sense of danger. the shadows deepen into inky night; all objects around him, even the little birds that were his companions during the day, are gathered within the curtains of a hushed repose; but the soldier, with every nerve and faculty of his mind strained to the utmost tension of keenness and sensibility, speaks only in whispers; his fingers tighten round the stock of his musket as he leans forward to catch the sound of approaching footsteps, or, in absence of danger, looks longingly up to the cold, grey sky, with its wealth of shining stars." yes, the picket is exposed to danger constantly, and to various kinds of danger. he knows not what moment a lurking foe may spring upon him from the darkness, or a bullet from a scout or sharpshooter may reach him at any time. then, too, he is exposed to the raging elements--heat and cold, rain and snow; no matter whether in the depths of the forest, or in the open plain, or in the rifle-pit standing in water knee deep, the poor picket must not heed the storm, but keep both eyes and ears open to catch the slightest sound. after severe marches, when the men are greatly fatigued, and it seems almost impossible to perform any more duty without rest and sleep, some, of course, are sent on picket duty, while the rest are permitted to sleep. oh, how my heart has ached for those men; and it seemed to me that the persons and regiments in which i was most interested always had the most picket duty to perform. on the 14th of march general mcclellan issued an address to the army of the potomac, announcing the reasons why they had been so long unemployed. the battle of bull run was fought in july, 1861. it was now march, 1862, and during this interval the army of the potomac, numbering some two hundred and fifty thousand men, had been inactive, excepting their daily drills behind their entrenchments. the flags of the enemy were in sight. washington was in a state of siege, and not a transport could ascend the river without running the gauntlet of the rebel batteries. in his address general mcclellan announced the reasons for their inactivity as follows: "soldiers of the army of the potomac: for a long time i have kept you inactive, but not without a purpose. you were to be disciplined, armed and instructed. the formidable artillery you now have had to be created. other armies were to move and accomplish certain results. i have held you back that you might give the death-blow to the rebellion that has distracted our once happy country. the patience you have shown, and your confidence in your general, are worth a dozen victories. these preliminary results are now accomplished. i feel that the patient labors of many months have produced their fruit. the army of the potomac is now a real army, magnificent in material, admirable in discipline and instruction, excellently equipped and armed. your commanders are all that i could wish. the moment for action has arrived, and i know that i can trust in you to save our country. the period of inaction has passed. i will bring you now face to face with the rebels, and only pray that god may defend the right." marching orders were issued once more to the army of the potomac. the sick were sent off, camps broken up, and all stood prepared for another encounter with the enemy. the bitter remembrance of the defeat at bull run still rankled in the minds of the men, and now they were anxious for an opportunity to retaliate upon the foe, and win back the laurels they had so ingloriously lost upon that disastrous field. various speculations were indulged in with regard to their destination. one prophesied that they were going to richmond by way of fredericksburg, another was positive that they were to go by the way of manassas, and a third declared that it was down the shenandoah valley to take richmond on the flank and rear; but, to the utter astonishment of all, they were ordered to alexandria to embark for fortress monroe. regiment after regiment was huddled together on board until every foot of room was occupied, and there remained but little prospect of comfort for either officers or men. as soon as each transport received its cargo of men, horses and provisions, it floated out into the stream, while another steamed up to the wharf in its place, until the whole fleet lay side by side, freighted with over a hundred thousand human lives, and awaiting the signal to weigh anchor. the troops were eager for a campaign; they had lain inactive so long, while "victory" thundered all around them, that they were becoming impatient to strike another blow at rebellion, and blot out the remembrance of the past. roanoke, pea ridge, newbern, winchester and donelson--were a succession of victories which had been achieved, and the army of the potomac had not participated in them. the men felt this, and were prepared for anything but inactivity. everything being in readiness, the signal was given, and the whole fleet was soon moving in the direction of fortress monroe, with the stars and stripes floating from every mast-head, and the music of national airs awakening the slumbering echoes as we swiftly glided over the quiet waters of the potomac. the first real object of interest which presented itself was the "monitor" lying off fortress monroe. it reminded me of what i once heard a man say to his neighbor about his wife; said he, "neighbor, you might worship your wife without breaking either of the ten commandments." "how is that?" asked the man; "because she is not the likeness of anything in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth." so thought i of the monitor. there she sat upon the water a glorious impregnable battery, the wonder of the age, the terror of rebels, and the pride of the north. the monitor is so novel in structure that a minute description will be necessary to convey an accurate idea of her character. "she has two hulls. the lower one is of iron, five-eighths of an inch thick. the bottom is flat, and six feet six inches in depth--sharp at both ends, the cut-water retreating at an angle of about thirty degrees. the sides, instead of having the ordinary bulge, incline at an angle of about fifty-one degrees. this hull is one hundred and twenty-four feet long, and thirty-four feet broad at the top. resting on this is the upper hull, flat-bottomed, and both longer and wider than the lower hull, so that it projects over in every direction, like the guards of a steamboat. it is one hundred and seventy-four feet long, forty-one feet four inches wide, and five feet deep. these sides constitute the armor of the vessel. in the first place is an inner guard of iron, half an inch thick. to this is fastened a wall of white oak, placed endways, and thirty inches thick, to which are bolted six plates of iron, each an inch thick, thus making a solid wall of thirty-six and a half inches of wood and iron. this hull is fastened upon the lower hull, so that the latter is entirely submerged, and the upper one sinks down three feet into the water. thus but two feet of hull are exposed to a shot. the under hull is so guarded by the projecting upper hull, that a ball, to strike it, would have to pass through twenty-five feet of water. the upper hull is also pointed at both ends. the deck comes flush with the top of the hull, and is made bomb-proof. no railing or bulwark rises above the deck. the projecting ends serve as a protection to the propeller, rudder and anchor, which cannot be struck. neither the anchor or chain is ever exposed. the anchor is peculiar, being very short, but heavy. it is hoisted into a place fitted for it, outside of the lower hull, but within the impenetrable shield of the upper one. on the deck are but two structures rising above the surface, the pilot-house and turret. the pilot-house is forward, made of plates of iron, the whole about ten inches in thickness, and shot-proof. small slits and holes are cut through, to enable the pilot to see his course. the turret, which is apparently the main feature of the battery, is a round cylinder, twenty feet in interior diameter, and nine feet high. it is built entirely of iron plates, one inch in thickness, eight of them securely bolted together, one over another. within this is a lining of one-inch iron, acting as a damper to deaden the effects of a concussion when struck by a ball--thus there is a shield of nine inches of iron. the turret rests on a bed-plate, or ring, of composition, which is fastened to the deck. to help support the weight, which is about a hundred tons, a vertical shaft, ten inches in diameter, is attached and fastened to the bulk-head. the top is made shot-proof by huge iron beams, and perforated to allow of ventilation. it has two circular port-holes, both on one side of the turret, three feet above the deck, and just large enough for the muzzle of the gun to be run out. the turret is made to revolve, being turned by a special engine. the operator within, by a rod connected with the engine, is enabled to turn it at pleasure. it can be made to revolve at the rate of sixty revolutions a minute, and can be regulated to stop within half a degree of a given point. when the guns are drawn in to load, the port-hole is stopped by a huge iron pendulum, which falls to its place, and makes that part as secure as any, and can be quickly hoisted to one side. the armament consists of two eleven-inch dahlgren guns. various improvements in the gun-carriage enable the gunner to secure almost perfect aim. "the engine is not of great power, as the vessel was designed as a battery, and not for swift sailing. it being almost entirely under water, the ventilation is secured by blowers, drawing the air in forward, and discharging it aft. a separate engine moves the blowers and fans the fires. there is no chimney, so the draft must be entirely artificial. the smoke passes out of gratings in the deck. many suppose the monitor to be merely an iron-clad vessel, with a turret; but there are, in fact, between thirty and forty patentable inventions upon her, and the turret is by no means the most important one. very properly, what these inventions are is not proclaimed to the public." chapter v. arrival at fortress monroe--the village of hampton--visiting the contrabands--arrival of fugitives--a real "camp meeting"--feeding the negroes--camp miseries--mules--miss periwinkle's mules--the coquettish, the moral, the histrionic, and the pathetic mule--our jack--lines of love--my box and presents--a three-story cake--a serenade and surprise party--good and bad chaplains--the morals of the army--slanders about soldiers. we arrived at fortress monroe in a drenching rain, immediately disembarked, and proceeded at once to hampton--formerly a beautiful little village containing about five hundred houses, many of them elegant brick buildings, but which now lay a blackened mass of ruins, having been burned a few months previous by order of rebel general magruder. the village was about three miles from fortress monroe, and situated on the west side of a creek, or arm of the sea, called hampton river, the yorktown road passing directly through its center. it was a great relief to the troops to disembark from the filthy, crowded transports, notwithstanding they had to march through the mud and rain, and then pitch their tents on the wet ground. fires were soon built, coffee made, and nice fresh bread served out, which was brought to us by the commissary department at the fort. as mrs. b. and i had a little respite at this particular juncture, we set about visiting the contrabands. they occupied a long row of board buildings near the fort. the men were employed in loading and unloading government vessels, and the women were busily engaged in cooking and washing. no language can describe the joy of these men and women at being liberated from bondage. as the jews of old were looking for the promised messiah, so the slaves universally regarded the advent of the northern army as the harbinger of their deliverance. mr. a. relates the following anecdote, illustrative of this fact, which took place at the battle of newbern: "a slaveholder, breathless with terror, spurred his horse to his utmost speed past his own house, not venturing to stop. just then a shell, with its terrific, unearthly shriek, rushed through the air over his head. a poor slave, a man of unfeigned piety and fervent prayer, in uncontrollable emotions of joy, ran into his humble cabin, shouting: 'wife, he is running, he is running, and the wrath of god is after him. glory hallelujah! the appointed time has come; we are free, we are free!'" with regard to my own visit to the contraband quarters, i give the following extract from my journal: "visited the contrabands to-day, and was much pleased with their cheerful, happy appearance. they are exceedingly ignorant, yet there is one subject upon which they can converse freely and intelligibly, and that is--christ--the way of salvation. almost all with whom i conversed to-day were praying men and women. oh, how i should like to teach these people! they seem so anxious for instruction, i know they would learn quickly. some of them are whiter and prettier than most of our northern ladies. there is a family here, all of whom have blue eyes, light hair, fair skin and rosy cheeks; yet they are contrabands, and have been slaves. but why should blue eyes and golden hair be the distinction between bond and free?" one bitter, stormy night, about eleven o'clock, a band of these poor fugitives, numbering over forty, presented themselves at the picket line, for admittance to the federal camp, imploring protection. the officer of the picket guard being called, and the case presented, the contrabands were permitted to pass through. but no sooner had their poor torn and bleeding feet touched the federal soil, than they fell upon their knees, and returned thanks to god and to the soldiers for their deliverance. they came into camp about one o'clock in the morning, shouting "glory! glory to god!" notwithstanding the early hour, and the stormy night, the whole camp was aroused; every one rushed out to find out the cause of the excitement. there they were, black as midnight, all huddled together in a little group--some praying, some singing, and others shouting. we had a real "camp meeting" time for a while. soon the exercises changed, and they began to relate their experiences, not only religious experiences, but a brief history of their lives. some were husbands and fathers. their masters had sold them down south, lest they should escape. in their terror they had escaped by night, and fled to the national banner for refuge, leaving all behind that was dear to them. in conclusion, one old man, evidently their leader, stood up and said: "i tell you, my breddern, dat de good lord has borne wid dis yere slav'ry long time wid great patience. but now he can't bore it no longer, no how; and he has said to de people ob de north--go and tell de slaveholders to let de people go, dat dey may sarve me." there were many there who had listened to the old colored man's speech and believed, as i did, that there was more truth than poetry in it. many hearts were moved with sympathy towards them, as was soon proved by the actions of the soldiers. an immense fire was built, around which these poor darkies eagerly gathered, as they were both wet, cold and hungry; then a large camp kettle of coffee was made and set before them, with plenty of bread and meat to satisfy their ravenous appetites--for ravenous they were, not having tasted food for more than two days. then blankets were provided, and they soon became comfortable, and as happy as human beings could be under such circumstances. mrs. b. and i returned to our tents feeling very much like indorsing the sentiment of "will jones' resolve:" resolved, although my brother be a slave, and poor and black, he is my brother still; can i, o'er trampled "institutions," save that brother from the chain and lash, i will. a cold, drizzling rain continued to descend for several days, and our camp became a fair specimen of "virginia mud." i began to feel the effects of the miasma which came floating on every breeze from the adjacent swamps and marshes, and fever and ague became my daily companions for a time. as i sat in my tent, roasting or shivering as the case might be, i took a strange pleasure in watching the long trains of six mule teams which were constantly passing and repassing within a few rods of my tent. as "miss periwinkle" remarks, there are several classes of mules. "the coquettish mule has small feet, a nicely trimmed tail, perked up ears, and seems much given to little tosses of the head, affected skips and prances, and, if he wears bells or streamers, puts on as many airs as any belle. the moral mule is a stout, hardworking creature, always tugging with all his might, often pulling away after the rest have stopped, laboring under the conscientious delusion that food for the entire army depends upon his individual exertions. the histrionic mule is a melo-dramatic sort of quadruped, prone to startle humanity by erratic leaps and wild plunges, much shaking of the stubborn head and lashing of his vicious heels; now and then falling flat, and apparently dying _a la_ forrest, a gasp, a groan, a shudder, etc., till the street is blocked up, the drivers all swearing like so many demons, and the chief actor's circulation becomes decidedly quickened by every variety of kick, cuff and jerk imaginable. when the last breath seems to have gone with the last kick, and the harness has been taken off, then a sudden resurrection takes place. he springs to his feet, and proceeds to give himself two or three comfortable shakes, and if ever mule laughed in scornful triumph it is he, and as he calmly surveys the excited crowd, seems to say: 'a hit! a decided hit!' for once the most stupid of all animals has outwitted more than a dozen of the lords of creation. the pathetic mule is, perhaps, the most interesting of all; for although he always seems to be the smallest, thinnest, and weakest of the six, yet, in addition to his equal portion of the heavy load, he carries on his back a great postillion, with tremendous boots, long tailed coat, and heavy whip. this poor creature struggles feebly along, head down, coat muddy and rough, eye spiritless and sad, and his whole appearance a perfect picture of meek misery, fit to touch a heart of stone. then there is another class of mules which always have a jolly, cheer-up sort of look about them--they take everything good naturedly, from cudgeling to carressing, and march along with a roguish twinkle in their eye which is very interesting." one morning, as i was just recovering from fever and ague, jack, our faithful colored boy, made his appearance at the door of my tent, touching his hat in the most approved military style, and handed me a letter bearing my address, saying, as he did so, "dar's a box at de 'spress office for you. may i run and fotch it?" i said, "oh, yes, jack, you may bring it, but be careful and keep the cover on, there may be chickens in it." jack knew the meaning of that allusion to chickens, and so ran off singing: massa run, ha, ha! darkies stay, ho, ho! it must be now dat de kingdom's cumin in de year ob jubilo. in the meantime i opened my letter, from which i make the following extract: "having learned your address through mrs. l----, whose son was killed at the battle of bull run, we send you a donation in token of our respect and esteem, and of our gratitude for your faithfulness on the field and in the hospital." the following lines were also inclosed: in the ranks of the sick and dying, in the chamber where death-dews fall, where the sleeper wakes from his trances to leap to the bugle-call, is there hope for the wounded soldier? ah, no! for his heart-blood flows, and the flickering flames of life must wane, to fail at the evening's close. oh, thou who goest, like a sunbeam, to lighten the darkness and gloom, make way for the path of glory through the dim and shadowy room; go speak to him words of comfort, and teach him the way to die, with his eyes upraised from the starry flag to the blessed cross on high. and tell him brave hearts are beating with pulses as noble as thine; that we count them at home by the thousands--thou sweetest sister of mine; that they fail not and flinch not from duty while the vials of wrath are outpoured, and tell him to call it not grievous, but joyous to fall by the sword. when the hosts of the foe are outnumbered, and the day of the lord is at hand, shall we halt in the heat of the battle, and fail at the word of command? oh, no! through the trouble and anguish, by the terrible pathway of blood, we must bear up the flag of our freedom, on--on through the perilous flood. and if one should be brought faint and bleeding, though wounded, yet not unto death, oh plead with the soft airs of heaven to favor his languishing breath; be faithful to heal and to save him, assuaging the fever and pains, till the pulse in his strong arm be strengthened and the blood courses free in his veins. while mrs. b. and i were speculating with regard to the contents of the box, jack's woolly head reappeared in the doorway, and the subject of our curiosity was before us. "dar it be, and mity heavy, too; guess it mus' be from ----." so saying, young hopeful disappeared. the box was soon opened, its contents examined and commented upon. first came a beautiful silk and rubber reversible cloak, which could be folded into such a small compass that it could be put into an ordinary sized pocket, and a pair of rubber boots. then came a splendid silver-mounted revolver, belt and miniature cartridge-box. but the greatest piece of perfection i ever saw came in the shape of a "housewife;" it was lined and covered with oil silk, and my name printed on it in gilt letters, above which was an eagle, and below was the following inscription: "a thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee." then came pocket-handkerchiefs, gloves, and other articles too numerous to mention. but last, not least, was found in the bottom, stowed away in one corner, two bottles of the best currant wine, a nice jar of jelly, and a large loaf of cake, frosted and mottoed in fine style. this cake was certainly a great curiosity. it was a three-story cake, with three doors made to slide back by gently pulling a bell-handle which was made of rosettes of red, white and blue ribbon. to the first bell-cord was attached a splendid gold ring, to the second a ten dollar gold piece, and to the third and last a small sized hunting cased gold watch and chain. at such revelations i began to feel as if my humble tent had become an enchanted palace, and that all i should have to do in future would be to rub that mysterious ring, and the genii would appear, ready to supply all my wants. we then commenced to divide the spoil, mrs. b. positively asserting that she had no right to any part of the donation, and i telling her that in all probability it was all intended for her, and through one of those "slight mistakes" it was directed to me. the news of this wonderful box soon spread through camp, and the result was that we had a surprise party as soon as evening came, chaplain b. taking the opportunity of making some very appropriate remarks on the occasion. then came the band to serenade us, and the consequence was that our cake and wine disappeared with our numerous friends, for we found that all were willing to obey the scriptural injunction, "take a little wine," etc. chaplain b. is a very worthy, zealous, faithful minister, and i have spoken very highly of him, but perhaps in doing so i have given the impression that all chaplains are good and faithful. i am very sorry to state that it is not so. there are some who have no fitness for their work, and some a disgrace to their profession. i think i am safe in saying that one bad chaplain will do more harm in a regiment than a hundred good men can counteract. if there is any place on earth where faithful ministers are needed more than another, it is in the army--it is in the hospital. but may god have mercy upon those who go there, whose object is dollars and cents--who neglect their duty, and fill the places which should be occupied by christ-like heralds of the cross who love the souls of their fellow men. i think the words of the saviour are particularly applicable to some of the chaplains of the army when he says: "woe unto you hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men," etc. i have conversed with many in the army upon the subject of religion, who told me that the conduct of certain chaplains had more influence in keeping them away from the saviour than all the combined forces of the evil one. such chaplains are there through political influence, regardless of qualifications. some persons have tried very hard to get up the general belief that the army is terribly demoralized in its best estate, and all who go there must inevitably plunge into vice; but a greater slander was never propagated. there is, undoubtedly, vice in the army; but where is there a city or community throughout the north where vice is not to be found? notwithstanding the tide of moral and religious influence which is daily brought to bear against it. although the outer man appears rough, and much drunkenness and other evils exist in the army, yet there is much that is pure, lovely, and of good report in the character of both officers and men. "i can speak of that i do know, and testify of that which i have seen," and i am free to say that i think the morals of the majority of the men are quite as good, if not better than you will find among the same number at home, made up of all classes as we find them in the army. it is true many have backslidden since they left home; but is equally true that _very_ many have been reformed, and are now better men than when they enlisted. every day's history proves that there are thousands of noble hearted, pure minded christians in our army, and none but traitors and infidels, the enemies of god and man, will deny this fact. chapter vi. the march to yorktown--scarcity of supplies--camp cookery--different characters in the army--arrival of trains--change of camp--trying to shell us out--the old saw-mill--a constant target--assaults on our outposts--a rebel appeal--yorktown and vicinity--the situation--balloon reconnoissances--prof. lowe on high--rebel vixens--a curious visit--a strange hostess--she tries to kill me--i wound her and capture a prisoner--a conversion--the secesh woman becomes a federal nurse. on to richmond once more resounded through the camp, and the army was again in motion. the yorktown road is one long to be remembered, especially by those who that day had to toil through its mud and mire, or, by making a mis-step, fall into one of the yawning chasms from which some unfortunate mule had been drawn. the rain had continued almost all the time we were encamped at hampton, "saturating the clayey soil, which soon became a vast bed of mortar under the artillery trains." the distance from hampton to yorktown is about twenty-three miles, and it required all the determination and energy of veterans to march half that distance in a day. with two days' rations in their haversacks, the men marched until they arrived in front of yorktown, where they bivouacked on the ground, over which the water was running like a flood. we remained three days in that condition, and it was the first time i ever saw anything like scarcity of food in the army. it was scarce indeed, for we were only supplied with two days' rations on starting from hampton. the fifth day had arrived, but no provisions had yet appeared, and it seemed morally impossible to get a supply train over the road. mile after mile of corduroy bridge had to be made before a team dare venture to approach. our horses, too, were as badly off for forage as the men were for provisions. on the fifth day, with several others, i received permission to go out and buy what we could at the houses anywhere within three miles of our encampment. after procuring a quantity of biscuit, pies, and corn bread, we returned to camp, and were quite surprised to find the boys engaged in cutting up and cooking fresh steak. we thought, of course, our provisions had arrived, but found that it was only a little dash they had just made upon the "chivalry's" cattle, appropriating them to their own use with a sort of earnestness which seemed to say, i firmly believe in the old proverb, _aide toi, et le ciel t'aidera_. oh, what a place the army is for the study of human nature! as i looked around upon that mass of busy men, i thought i could discover almost every trait in the human character depicted upon their countenances. there was the selfish man, only intent upon serving himself, and fearing there would not enough come to his share to satisfy his wants; then there was old churlish nabal away by himself building a fire for his own especial benefit, and which "no man dare approach unto," no, not within baking, broiling, or roasting distance, not even to get a coal to kindle one for himself. but that class of character, thank heaven, was a very small minority. there, too, was the cheerful, happy man, who had been several hours engaged in cutting up and serving out to others, and had no lot or part in the broiled steaks which were smoking around him; yet he looked as good natured as if he had dined on roast beef and plum pudding. then there was another phase of character--one who always made it the first duty, under all circumstances, to look after those who were not able to look after themselves. while the little trials of camp life have a tendency to harden and sour the dispositions of some, they seem to bring to light and develop the cheerful, happy, unselfish spirit of others. one has truthfully said that "there is no other quality so diffusive of joy, both to him who possesses it and to those with whom he has friendly intercourse, as cheerfulness. it is the phase of a soul sitting in its own sunshine. there are luminous planets which are viewed by the aid of their own light, others there are which are seen through borrowed light. so it is with individuals. there seem to be some who have scarcely any light of their own, and who shine by the reflection of the light of others; while others there are who possess an intrinsic and inexhaustible source of sunshine, which renders them not only self-illuminating, but capable of irradiating those around them. many are cheerful when a sparkling rill of pleasure is gurgling in their hearts, or when prosperity encircles them, or looms up gorgeously in their prospective vision. but few are cheerful when adversity casts its gloomy shadows around them; when sorrow and disappointment dry up their fountains of pleasure and wither their hopes. in such crises cheerfulness is an independent virtue, and in others an accidental mood." the despondency of the few was soon removed, and the patience and cheerfulness of the many rewarded by the arrival of the provision and baggage trains. we then exchanged our camp for one in a more pleasant locality, where there was more wood and not quite so much water, which added much to the comfort of the troops. the enemy soon found out our position, and did not fail to inform us of the fact by frequently saluting us with an immense shell, or thirty-two pound cannon ball, which would burst over our heads or fall within a few rods--often within a few feet--of our tents. we remained in that camp just one month, and, notwithstanding the enemy shelled us night and day, i never saw a man or beast injured by shot or shell in camp while we remained there. i presume many of my readers will remember seeing or hearing of the old saw-mill which stood near a peach orchard, and which the soldiers persisted in running, to the great annoyance of the rebels. that old saw-mill deserves to be immortalized in song as well as in history; and if it stood in any other than a christian land, it would undoubtedly become an object of idolatry. there it stood, in perfect range of the enemy's batteries, a target at which they never seemed tired of firing, while our brave soldiers risked their lives in sawing lumber for the purpose of laying board floors in the hospital tents, to secure some degree of comfort, for their poor sick comrades. time after time the mill was set on fire by the explosion of shells as they passed through it, but up would go some brave young hero, and stand in the very jaws of death while his companions would hand him bucket after bucket of water to quench the flames. as soon as the fire was extinguished the men resumed their labor, and the old mill steamed away with all its might, as if proud of the "stars and stripes" which waved from its summit, and of being permitted to show its patriotism and zeal for the glorious cause of freedom by working for good old "uncle sam" and his noble sons. then it would give vent to its pent up wrath in hisses and shrieks, bidding proud defiance to jeff. davis and his minions, who were trying in vain to stop its humane and patriotic efforts. for more than three weeks those brave men kept the steam up in that mill, until their object was accomplished, having to stop almost every half hour to repair the ravages of shot and shell. notwithstanding the constant fire of the rebel batteries, the dilapidated appearance of the mill from its effects, and the danger of the situation, yet not a man was killed in or about it, and not one wounded, to my knowledge. i remember one day of passing the mill in a great hurry--and it was well that i was in a hurry, for i had scarcely rode by it when i heard a terrific crash close at hand, which made my horse leap from the ground with terror. upon turning round i saw that a part of the smoke stack had been carried away, and the mill was on fire. i rode up to the door and inquired if any one was killed or injured; no, not a man was hurt, and the fire was soon subdued by the vigorous efforts of those sturdy soldiers, who looked as jolly over the disaster as if it had really been a good joke. the rebels were beginning to make some desperate assaults upon our outposts; they were driving in the advance pickets on our left wing, and making similar demonstrations along different parts of the line. they were evidently concentrating a large force behind their fortifications, and were determined to make a desperate resistance. deserters came in bringing richmond papers crowded with appeals to the southern "chivalry," of which the following is a specimen: "the next few days may decide the fate of richmond. it is either to remain the capital of the confederacy, or to be turned over to the federal government as a yankee conquest. the capital is either to be secured or lost--it may be feared not temporarily, and with it virginia. then, if there is blood to be shed, let it be shed here; no soil of the confederacy could drink it up more acceptably, and none would hold it more gratefully. wife, family, and friends are nothing. leave them all for one glorious hour to be devoted to the republic. life, death, and wounds are nothing if we only be saved from the fate of a captured and humiliated confederacy. let the government act; let the people act. there is time yet. if fate comes to its worst, let the ruins of richmond be its most lasting monument." general mcclellan's despatch to the war department will best describe the state of affairs at this time in yorktown and vicinity; he says: "the whole line of the warwick, which really heads within a mile of yorktown, is strongly defended by detached redoubts and other fortifications, armed with heavy and light guns. the approaches, except at yorktown, are covered by the warwick, over which there is but one, or at most, two passages, both of which are covered by strong batteries. all the prisoners state that general j. e. johnson arrived at yorktown yesterday, with strong reinforcements. it seems clear that i shall have the whole force of the enemy on my hands--probably not less than one hundred thousand men, and possibly more. "under the circumstances which have been developed since we arrived here, i feel fully impressed with the conviction that here is to be fought the great battle that is to decide the existing contest. i shall of course commence the attack as soon as i can get up my siege train, and shall do all in my power to carry the enemy's works; but to do this, with a reasonable degree of certainty, requires, in my judgment, that i should, if possible, have at least the whole of the first corps to land upon the severn river and attack gloucester in the rear. my present strength will not admit of a detachment sufficient for this purpose without materially impairing the efficiency of this column." while these preparations were going forward on both sides, professor lowe was making balloon reconnoissances, and transmitting the result of his observations to general mcclellan by telegraph from his castle in the air, which seemed suspended from the clouds, reminding one of the fabled gods of old looking down from their ethereal abodes upon the conflicts of the inhabitants of this mundane sphere. one of the officers one day playfully remarked: "professor, i am always sorry when i see you descend with your balloon." "why are you sorry, colonel? would you wish to see me suspended between heaven and earth all the time?" "oh, no, not that; but when i see you coming down i am afraid you will never get so near heaven again." i was often sent out to procure supplies for the hospitals, butter, eggs, milk, chickens, etc., and in my rambles i used to meet with many interesting adventures. in some instances i met with narrow escapes with my life, which were not quite so interesting; and the timely appearance of my revolver often rescued me from the hands of the female rebels of the peninsula. persons dwelling in regions which slavery has not debased can hardly imagine the malice and ferocity manifested by the rebel vixens of the slave states. upon this point the testimony from all parts of the south is invariable. the louisville journal says: "thousands have read with astonishment the account which historians give of the conduct of women in paris during the reign of terror. the women are said to have been more fierce and bloodthirsty than even the fiercest and most bloodthirsty of the men. many of our people have supposed that the accounts given of those things must surely be fictions or exaggerations. they have felt themselves unable to conceive that woman's nature could become a thing so utterly revolting. but if they will look and listen in this region, at the present time, they will find that they have no further reason for incredulity or scepticism. the bitter and ferocious spirit of thousands of rebel women in kentucky, tennessee, and other states, is scarcely, if at all, surpassed by the female monsters that shrieked and howled for victims in the french revolution." i will here relate a little incident illustrative of the peculiarity of my adventures while on this catering business: one morning i started, all alone, for a five mile ride to an isolated farm-house about three miles back from the hampton road, and which report said was well supplied with all the articles of which i was in search. i cantered along briskly until i came to a gate which opened into a lane leading directly to the house. it was a large old fashioned two-story house, with immense chimneys built outside, virginia style. the farm appeared to be in good condition, fences all up, a rare thing on the peninsula, and corn-fields flourishing as if there were no such thing as war in the land. i rode up to the house and dismounted, hitched my horse to a post at the door, and proceeded to ring the bell. a tall, stately lady made her appearance, and invited me in with much apparent courtesy. she was dressed in deep mourning, which was very becoming to her pale, sad face. she seemed to be about thirty years of age, very prepossessing in appearance, and evidently belonged to one of the "f. f. v's." as soon as i was seated she inquired: "to what fortunate circumstance am i to attribute the pleasure of this unexpected call?" i told her in a few words the nature of my business. the intelligence seemed to cast a deep shadow over her pale features, which all her efforts could not control. she seemed nervous and excited, and something in her appearance aroused my suspicion, notwithstanding her blandness of manner and lady-like deportment. she invited me into another room, while she prepared the articles which she proposed to let me have, but i declined, giving as an excuse that i preferred to sit where i could see whether my horse remained quiet. i watched all her movements narrowly, not daring to turn my eyes aside for a single moment. she walked round in her stately way for some time, without accomplishing much in the way of facilitating my departure, and she was evidently trying to detain me for some purpose or other. could it be that she was meditating the best mode of attack, or was she expecting some one to come, and trying to detain me until their arrival? thoughts like these passed through my mind in quick succession. at last i rose up abruptly, and asked her if the things were ready. she answered me with an assumed smile of surprise, and said: "oh, i did not know that you were in a hurry: i was waiting for the boys to come and catch some chickens for you." "and pray, madam, where are the boys?" i asked; "oh, not far from here," was her reply. "well, i have decided not to wait; you will please not detain me longer," said i, as i moved toward the door. she began to pack some butter and eggs both together in a small basket which i had brought with me, while another stood beside her without anything in it. i looked at her; she was trembling violently, and was as pale as death. in a moment more she handed me the basket, and i held out a greenback for her acceptance; "oh, it was no consequence about the pay;" she did not wish anything for it. so i thanked her and went out. in a few moments she came to the door, but did not offer to assist me, or to hold the basket, or anything, but stood looking at me most maliciously, i thought. i placed the basket on the top of the post to which my horse had been hitched, took my seat in the saddle, and then rode up and took my basket. turning to her i bade her good morning, and thanking her again for her kindness, i turned to ride away. i had scarcely gone a rod when she discharged a pistol at me; by some intuitive movement i threw myself forward on my horse's neck and the ball passed over my head. i turned my horse in a twinkling, and grasped my revolver. she was in the act of firing the second time, but was so excited that the bullet went wide of its mark. i held my seven-shooter in my hand, considering where to aim. i did not wish to kill the wretch, but did intend to wound her. when she saw that two could play at this game, she dropped her pistol and threw up her hands imploringly. i took deliberate aim at one of her hands, and sent the ball through the palm of her left hand. she fell to the ground in an instant with a loud shriek. i dismounted, and took the pistol which lay beside her, and placing it in my belt, proceeded to take care of her ladyship after the following manner: i unfastened the end of my halter-strap and tied it painfully tight around her right wrist, and remounting my horse, i started, and brought the lady to consciousness by dragging her by the wrist two or three rods along the ground. i stopped, and she rose to her feet, and with wild entreaties she begged me to release her, but, instead of doing so, i presented a pistol, and told her that if she uttered another word or scream she was a dead woman. in that way i succeeded in keeping her from alarming any one who might be within calling distance, and so made my way toward mcclellan's headquarters. [illustration: catering for hospitals.--page 94.] after we had gone in that way about a mile and a half, i told her that she might ride if she wished to do so, for i saw she was becoming weak from loss of blood. she was glad to accept the offer, and i bound up her hand with my handkerchief, gave her my scarf to throw over her head, and assisted her to the saddle. i marched along beside her, holding tight to the bridle rein all the while. when we were about a mile from mcclellan's headquarters she fainted, and i caught her as she was falling from the horse. i laid her by the roadside while i went for some water, which i brought in my hat, and after bathing her face for some time she recovered. for the first time since we started i entered into conversation with her, and found that within the last three weeks she had lost her father, husband, and two brothers in the rebel army. they had all belonged to a company of sharpshooters, and were the first to fall. she had been almost insane since the intelligence reached her. she said i was the first yankee that she had seen since the death of her relatives, the evil one seemed to urge her on to the step she had taken, and if i would not deliver her up to the military powers, she would go with me and take care of the wounded. she even proposed to take the oath of allegiance, and seemed deeply penitent. "if thy brother (or sister) sin against thee, and repent, forgive him," are the words of the saviour. i tried to follow their sacred teachings there and then, and told her that i forgave her fully if she was only truly penitent. her answer was sobs and tears. soon after this conversation we started for camp, she weak and humbled, and i strong and rejoicing. none ever knew from that day to this the secret of that secesh woman becoming a nurse. instead of being taken to general mcclellan's headquarters, she went direct to the hospital, where dr. p. dressed her hand, which was causing her extreme pain. the good old surgeon never could solve the mystery connected with her hand, for we both refused to answer any questions relating to the wound, except that she was shot by a "yankee," which placed the surgeon under obligations to take care of the patient until she recovered--that is to say as long as it was convenient for him to do so. the next day she returned to her house in an ambulance, accompanied by a hospital steward, and brought away everything which could be made use of in the hospitals, and so took up her abode with us. her name was alice m., but we called her nellie j. she soon proved the genuineness of her conversion to the federal faith by her zeal for the cause which she had so recently espoused. as soon as she was well enough to act in the capacity of nurse she commenced in good earnest, and became one of the most faithful and efficient nurses in the army of the potomac. but that was the first and the only instance of a female rebel changing her sentiments, or abating one iota in her cruelty or hatred toward the "yankees;" and also the only real lady in personal appearance, education and refinement, that i ever met among the females of the peninsula. chapter vii. a lost friend--death of lieutenant james v.--his burial--the grave by night--my vow--a soldier-chaplain--recognitions in heaven--doubts and dissatisfaction--capture of a spy--my examinations at headquarters--my disguise as a spy--i am metamorphosed into a contraband--hired as a cook--biscuit making--the doctor's tea. not long after these events, returning one day from an excursion, i found the camp almost deserted, and an unusual silence pervading all around. upon looking to the right and left to discover the cause of so much quietness, i saw a procession of soldiers slowly winding their way from a peach orchard, where they had just deposited the remains of a comrade. who could it have been? i did not dare to go and meet them to inquire, but i waited in painful suspense until the procession came up, with arms reversed. with sad faces and slow and measured tread they returned in order as they had gone. i stepped forward and inquired whom they had buried. lieutenant james v. was the reply. my friend! they had buried him, and i had not seen him! i went to my tent without uttering a word. i felt as if it could not be possible that what i heard was true. it must be some one else. i did not inquire how, when or where he had been killed, but there i sat with tearless eyes. mr. and mrs. b. came in, she sobbing aloud, he calm and dignified, but with tears slowly rolling down his face. lieutenant v. was thirty-two years of age; he was tall, had black wavy hair, and large black eyes. he was a sincere christian, active in all the duties devolving upon a christian soldier, and was greatly beloved both by officers and men. his loss was deeply felt. his heart, though brave, was tender as a woman's. he was noble and generous, and had the highest regard for truth and law. although gentle and kind to all, yet he had an indomitable spirit and a peculiar courage and daring, which almost amounted to recklessness in time of danger. he was not an american, but was born of english parents, and was a native of st. john, new brunswick. i had known him almost from childhood, and found him always a faithful friend. when we met in the army we met as strangers. the changes which five years had wrought, and the costume which i wore, together with change of name, rendered it impossible for him to recognize me. i was glad that he did not, and took peculiar pleasure in remaining unrecognized. we became acquainted again, and a new friendship sprang up, on his part, for mine was not new, which was very pleasant, at least to me. at times my position became very embarrassing, for i was obliged to listen to a recapitulation of my own former conversations and correspondence with him, which made me feel very much like an eavesdropper. he had neither wife, mother nor sister, and, like myself, was a wanderer from his native land. there was a strong bond of sympathy existing between us, for we both believed that duty called us there, and were willing to lay down even life itself, if need be, in this glorious cause. now he was gone, and i was left alone with a deeper sorrow in my heart than i had ever known before. chaplain b. broke the painful silence by informing me how he had met his fate. he was acting in the capacity of aide-de-camp on general c.'s staff. he was sent to carry an order from headquarters to the officer in command of the outer picket line, and while riding along the line he was struck by a minnie ball, which passed through the temple, killing him instantly. his remains were brought to camp and prepared for their last resting place. without shroud or coffin, wrapped in his blanket, his body was committed to the cold ground. they made his grave under a beautiful pear tree, in full bloom, where he sleeps peacefully, notwithstanding the roar of cannon and the din of battle which peal forth their funeral notes over his dreamless bed. one more buried beneath the sod, one more standing before his god. we should not weep that he has gone; with us 'tis night, with him 'tis morn. night came at last with its friendly mantle, and our camp was again hushed in comparative repose. twelve o'clock came, but i could not sleep. visions of a pale face and a mass of black wavy hair, matted with gore which oozed from a dark purple spot on the temple, haunted me. i rose up quietly and passed out into the open air. the cool night breeze felt grateful to my burning brow, which glowed with feverish excitement. with a hasty word of explanation i passed the camp guard, and was soon beside the grave of lieutenant v. the solemn grandeur of the heavens, the silent stars looking lovingly down upon that little heaped up mound of earth, the death-like stillness of the hour, only broken by the occasional booming of the enemy's cannon, all combined to make the scene awfully impressive. i felt that i was not alone. i was in the presence of that god who had summoned my friend to the eternal world, and the spirit of the departed one was hovering near, although my dim eyes could not penetrate the mysterious veil which hid him from my view. it was there, in that midnight hour, kneeling beside the grave of him who was very dear to me, that i vowed to avenge the death of that christian hero. i could now better understand the feelings of poor nellie when she fired the pistol at me, because i was "one of the hated yankees who was in sympathy with the murderers of her husband, father and brothers." but i could not forgive his murderers as she had done. i did not enjoy taking care of the sick and wounded as i once did, but i longed to go forth and do, as a noble chaplain did at the battle of pittsburg landing. he picked up the musket and cartridge-box of a wounded soldier, stepped into the front rank, and took deliberate aim at one rebel after another until he had fired sixty rounds of cartridge; and as he sent a messenger of death to each heart he also sent up the following brief prayer: "may god have mercy upon your miserable soul." from this time forward i became strangely interested in the fifteenth chapter of first corinthians--the doctrine of the resurrection, and the hope of "recognition of friends in heaven" became very precious to me. for i believe with regard to our departed loved ones, that when safely landed on that heavenly shore where sighings cease and sorrows come no more- with hearts no more by cruel anguish riven, as we have loved on earth we'll love in heaven. and infinitely more than we are capable of loving here. "few things connected with the great hereafter so deeply concern the heart as the question of personal recognition in heaven. dear ones of earth, linked to our hearts by the most tender ties, have departed and gone away into the unknown realm. we have carefully and tearfully laid their bodies in the grave to slumber till the great awakening morning. if there is no personal recognition in heaven, if we shall neither see nor know our friends there, so far as we are concerned they are annihilated, and heaven has no genuine antidote for the soul's agony in the hour of bereavement. all the precious memories of toil and trial, of conflict and victory, of gracious manifestations and of holy joy, shared with them in the time of our pilgrimage, will have perished forever. the anxiety of the soul with regard to the recognition of our friends in the future state is natural. it springs from the holiest sympathies of the human heart, and any inquiry that may solve our doubts or relieve our anxiety is equally rational and commendable. "tell me, ye who have seen the open tomb receive into its bosom the sacred trust committed to its keeping, in hope of the first resurrection--ye who have heard the sullen rumbling of the clods as they dropped upon the coffin lid, and told you that earth had gone back to earth; when the separation from the object of your love was realized in all the desolation of bereavement, next to the thought that you should ere long see christ as he is and be like him, was not that consolation the strongest which assured you that the departed one, whom god has put from you into darkness, will run to meet you when you cross the threshold of immortality, and, with the holy rapture to which the redeemed alone can give utterance, lead you to the exalted saviour, and with you bow at his feet and cast the conqueror's crown before him? and is this hope vain? shall we not even know those dear ones in the spirit world? was this light of hope that gilded so beautifully the sad, dark hour of human woe, only a mocking _ignis fatuus_, so soon to go out in everlasting darkness? is this affection, so deep, so holy, yearning over its object with undying love, to be nipped in the very bud of its being? nay, it cannot be. there must have been some higher purpose; god could not delight in the bestowal of affections that were to be blighted in their very beginning, and of hopes that were to end only in the mockery of eternal disappointment." if fate unite the faithful but to part, why is their memory sacred to the heart? oh, thank god for faith! for a faith that takes hold of that which is within the veil. there we behold our loved ones basking in the sunshine of the redeemer's love--there they see him face to face, and know as they are known. and they speak to us from the bright eternal world, and bid us weep not at nature's transient pain; congenial spirits part to meet again. just at this crisis i received a letter from a friend of mine at the north, disapproving in strong terms of my remaining any longer in the army, requesting me to give up my situation immediately, and to meet him in washington two weeks from date. i regarded that friend's opinions very much, especially when they coincided with my own; but upon this point no two opinions could differ more widely than did ours. it is true i was becoming dissatisfied with my situation as nurse, and was determined to leave the hospital; but before doing so i thought it best to call a council of three, mr. and mrs. b. and i, to decide what was the best course to pursue. after an hour's conference together the matter was decided in my mind. chaplain b. told me that he knew of a situation he could get for me if i had sufficient moral courage to undertake its duties; and, said he, "it is a situation of great danger and of vast responsibility." that morning a detachment of the thirty-seventh new york had been sent out as scouts, and had returned bringing in several prisoners, who stated that one of the federal spies had been captured at richmond and was to be executed. this information proved to be correct, and we lost a valuable soldier from the secret service of the united states. now it was necessary for that vacancy to be supplied, and, as the chaplain had said with reference to it, it was a situation of great danger and vast responsibility, and this was the one which mr. b. could procure for me. but was i capable of filling it with honor to myself and advantage to the federal government? this was an important question for me to consider ere i proceeded further. i did consider it thoroughly, and made up my mind to accept it with all its fearful responsibilities. the subject of life and death was not weighed in the balance; i left that in the hands of my creator, feeling assured that i was just as safe in passing the picket lines of the enemy, if it was god's will that i should go there, as i would be in the federal camp. and if not, then his will be done: then welcome death, the end of fears. my name was sent in to headquarters, and i was soon summoned to appear there myself. mr. and mrs. b. accompanied me. we were ushered into the presence of generals mc., m. and h., where i was questioned and cross-questioned with regard to my views of the rebellion and my motive in wishing to engage in so perilous an undertaking. my views were freely given, my object briefly stated, and i had passed trial number one. next i was examined with regard to my knowledge of the use of firearms, and in that department i sustained my character in a manner worthy of a veteran. then i was again cross-questioned, but this time by a new committee of military stars. next came a phrenological examination, and finding that my organs of secretiveness, combativeness, etc., were largely developed, the oath of allegiance was administered, and i was dismissed with a few complimentary remarks which made the good mr. b. feel quite proud of his _protege_. this was the third time that i had taken the oath of allegiance to the united states, and i began to think, as many of our soldiers do, that profanity had become a military necessity. i had three days in which to prepare for my debut into rebeldom, and i commenced at once to remodel, transform and metamorphose for the occasion. early next morning i started for fortress monroe, where i procured a number of articles indispensably necessary to a complete disguise. in the first place i purchased a suit of contraband clothing, real plantation style, and then i went to a barber and had my hair sheared close to my head. next came the coloring process--head, face, neck, hands and arms were colored black as any african, and then, to complete my contraband costume, i required a wig of real negro wool. but how or where was it to be found? there was no such thing at the fortress, and none short of washington. happily i found the mail-boat was about to start, and hastened on board, and finding a postmaster with whom i was acquainted, i stepped forward to speak to him, forgetting my contraband appearance, and was saluted with--"well, massa cuff--what will you have?" said i: "massa send me to you wid dis yere money for you to fotch him a darkie wig from washington." "what the ---does he want of a darkie wig?" asked the postmaster. "no matter, dat's my orders; guess it's for some 'noiterin' business." "oh, for reconnoitering you mean; all right old fellow, i will bring it, tell him." i remained at fortress monroe until the postmaster returned with the article which was to complete my disguise, and then returned to camp near yorktown. on my return, i found myself without friends--a striking illustration of the frailty of human friendship--i had been forgotten in those three short days. i went to mrs. b.'s tent and inquired if she wanted to hire a boy to take care of her horse. she was very civil to me, asked if i came from fortress monroe, and whether i could cook. she did not want to hire me, but she thought she could find some one who did require a boy. off she went to dr. e. and told him that there was a smart little contraband there who was in search of work. dr. e. came along, looking as important as two year old doctors generally do. "well, my boy, how much work can you do in a day?" "oh, i reckon i kin work right smart; kin do heaps o' work. will you hire me, massa?" "don't know but i may; can you cook?" "yes, massa, kin cook anything i ebber seen." "how much do you think you can earn a month?" "guess i kin earn ten dollars easy nuff." turning to mrs. b. he said in an undertone: "that darkie understands his business." "yes indeed, i would hire him by all means, doctor," said mrs. b. "well, if you wish, you can stay with me a month, and by that time i will be a better judge how much you can earn." so saying dr. e. proceeded to give a synopsis of a contraband's duty toward a master of whom he expected ten dollars per month, especially emphasising the last clause. then i was introduced to the culinary department, which comprised flour, pork, beans, a small portable stove, a spider, and a medicine chest. it was now supper time, and i was supposed to understand my business sufficiently to prepare supper without asking any questions whatever, and also to display some of my boasted talents by making warm biscuit for supper. but how was i to make biscuit with my colored hands? and how dare i wash them for fear the color would wash off? all this trouble was soon put to an end, however, by jack's making his appearance while i was stirring up the biscuit with a stick, and in his bustling, officious, negro style, he said: "see here nig--you don't know nuffin bout makin bisket. jis let me show you once, and dat ar will save you heaps o' trouble wid massa doct'r for time to come." i very willingly accepted of this proffered assistance, for i had all the necessary ingredients in the dish, with pork fat for shortening, and soda and cream-tartar, which i found in the medicine chest, ready for kneading and rolling out. after washing his hands and rolling up his sleeves, jack went to work with a flourish and a grin of satisfaction at being "boss" over the new cook. tea made, biscuit baked, and the medicine chest set off with tin cups, plates, etc., supper was announced. dr. e. was much pleased with the general appearance of things, and was evidently beginning to think that he had found rather an intelligent contraband for a cook. chapter viii. my first secret expedition--my work among contrabands--pickaxe, shovel and wheelbarrow--counting the guns in a rebel fortification--a change of work--carrying water to the rebel soldiers--generals lee and johnson--the rebel force at yorktown--a council of war--turning white again--a rebel spy--lieutenant v.'s murderer--on picket duty--my return to our lines--i put on uniform and make my report. after supper i was left to my own reflections, which were anything but pleasant at that time; for in the short space of three hours i must take up my line of march toward the camp of the enemy. as i sat there considering whether it was best for me to make myself known to mrs. b. before i started, dr. e. put his head in at the tent door and said in a hurried manner: "ned, i want you to black my boots to-night; i shall require them early in the morning." "all right, massa doct'r," said i; "i allers blacks de boots over night." after washing up the few articles which had taken the place of dishes, and blacking the doctor's boots, i went to seek an interview with mrs. b. i found her alone and told her who i was, but was obliged to give her satisfactory proofs of my identity before she was convinced that i was the identical nurse with whom she had parted three days previously. my arrangements were soon made, and i was ready to start on my first secret expedition toward the confederate capital. mrs. b. was pledged to secrecy with regard to her knowledge of "ned" and his mysterious disappearance. she was not permitted even to tell mr. b. or dr. e., and i believe she kept her pledge faithfully. with a few hard crackers in my pocket, and my revolver loaded and capped, i started on foot, without even a blanket or anything which might create suspicion. at half-past nine o'clock i passed through the outer picket line of the union army, at twelve o'clock i was within the rebel lines, and had not so much as been halted once by a sentinel. i had passed within less than ten rods of a rebel picket, and he had not seen me. i took this as a favorable omen, and thanked heaven for it. as soon as i had gone a safe distance from the picket lines i lay down and rested until morning. the night was chilly and the ground cold and damp, and i passed the weary hours in fear and trembling. the first object which met my view in the morning was a party of negroes carrying out hot coffee and provisions to the rebel pickets. this was another fortunate circumstance, for i immediately made their acquaintance, and was rewarded for my promptness by receiving a cup of coffee and a piece of corn bread, which helped very much to chase away the lingering chills of the preceding night. i remained there until the darkies returned, and then marched into yorktown with them without eliciting the least suspicion. the negroes went to work immediately on the fortifications after reporting to their overseers, and i was left standing alone, not having quite made up my mind what part to act next. i was saved all further trouble in that direction, for my idleness had attracted the notice of an officer, who stepped forward and began to interrogate me after the following manner: "who do you belong to, and why are you not at work?" i answered in my best negro dialect: "i dusn't belong to nobody, massa, i'se free and allers was; i'se gwyne to richmond to work." but that availed me nothing, for turning to a man who was dressed in citizen's clothes and who seemed to be in charge of the colored department, he said: "take that black rascal and set him to work, and if he don't work well tie him up and give him twenty lashes, just to impress upon his mind that there's no free niggers here while there's a d--d yankee left in virginia." so saying he rode away, and i was conducted to a breast-work which was in course of erection, where about a hundred negroes were at work. i was soon furnished with a pickaxe, shovel, and a monstrous wheelbarrow, and i commenced forthwith to imitate my companions in bondage. that portion of the parapet upon which i was sent to work was about eight feet high. the gravel was wheeled up in wheelbarrows on single planks, one end of which rested on the brow of the breast-work and the other on the ground. i need not say that this work was exceedingly hard for the strongest man; but few were able to take up their wheelbarrows alone, and i was often helped by some good natured darkie when i was just on the verge of tumbling off the plank. all day long i worked in this manner, until my hands were blistered from my wrists to the finger ends. [illustration: disguised as a contraband.--page 113.] the colored men's rations were different from those of the soldiers. they had neither meat nor coffee, while the white men had both. whiskey was freely distributed to both black and white, but not in sufficient quantity to unfit them for duty. the soldiers seemed to be as much in earnest as the officers, and could curse the yankees with quite as much vehemence. notwithstanding the hardships of the day i had had my eyes and ears open, and had gained more than would counterbalance the day's work. night came, and i was released from toil. i was free to go where i pleased within the fortifications, and i made good use of my liberty. i made out a brief report of the mounted guns which i saw that night in my ramble round the fort, viz.: fifteen three-inch rifled cannon, eighteen four and a half-inch rifled cannon, twenty-nine thirty-two pounders, twenty-one forty-two pounders, twenty-three eight-inch columbiads, eleven nine-inch dahlgrens, thirteen ten-inch columbiads, fourteen ten-inch mortars, and seven eight-inch siege howitzers. this, together with a rough sketch of the outer works, i put under the inner sole of my contraband shoe and returned to the negro quarters. finding my hands would not be in a condition to shovel much earth on the morrow, i began to look round among the negroes to find some one who would exchange places with me whose duty was of a less arduous character. i succeeded in finding a lad of about my own size who was engaged in carrying water to the troops. he said he would take my place the next day, and he thought he could find a friend to do the same the day following, for which brotherly kindness i gave him five dollars in greenbacks; but he declared he could not take so much money--"he neber had so much money in all his life before." so by that operation i escaped the scrutiny of the overseer, which would probably have resulted in the detection of my assumed african complexion. the second day in the confederate service was much pleasanter than the first. i had only to supply one brigade with water, which did not require much exertion, for the day was cool and the well was not far distant; consequently i had an opportunity of lounging a little among the soldiers, and of hearing important subjects discussed. in that way i learned the number of reinforcements which had arrived from different places, and also had the pleasure of seeing general lee, who arrived while i was there. it was whispered among the men that he had been telegraphed to for the purpose of inspecting the yankee fortifications, as he was the best engineer in the confederacy, and that he had pronounced it impossible to hold yorktown after mcclellan opened his siege guns upon it. then, too, general j. e. johnson was hourly expected with a portion of his command. including all, the rebels estimated their force at one hundred and fifty thousand at yorktown and in that vicinity. when johnson arrived there was a council of war held, and things began to look gloomy. then the report began to circulate that the town was to be evacuated. one thing i noticed in the rebel army, that they do not keep their soldiers in the dark as our officers do with regard to the movements and destination of the troops. when an order comes to the federal army requiring them to make some important movement, no person knows whether they are advancing or retreating until they get to washington, or in sight of the enemy's guns, excepting two or three of the leading generals. having a little spare time i visited my sable friends and carried some water for them. after taking a draught of the cool beverage, one young darkie looked up at me in a puzzled sort of manner, and turning round to one of his companions, said: "jim, i'll be darned if that feller aint turnin' white; if he aint then i'm no nigger." i felt greatly alarmed at the remark, but said, very carelessly, "well, gem'in i'se allers 'spected to come white some time; my mudder's a white woman." this had the desired effect, for they all laughed at my simplicity, and made no further remarks upon the subject. as soon as i could conveniently get out of sight i took a look at my complexion by means of a small pocket looking-glass which i carried for that very purpose--and sure enough, as the negro had said, i was really turning white. i was only a dark mulatto color now, whereas two days previous i was as black as cloe. however, i had a small vial of nitrate of silver in weak solution, which i applied to prevent the remaining color from coming off. upon returning to my post with a fresh supply of water, i saw a group of soldiers gathered around some individual who was haranguing them in real southern style. i went up quietly, put down my cans of water, and of course had to fill the men's canteens, which required considerable time, especially as i was not in any particular hurry just then. i thought the voice sounded familiar, and upon taking a sly look at the speaker i recognized him at once as a peddler who used to come to the federal camp regularly once every week with newspapers and stationery, and especially at headquarters. he would hang round there, under some pretext or other, for half a day at a time. there he was, giving the rebels a full description of our camp and forces, and also brought out a map of the entire works of mcclellan's position. he wound up his discourse by saying: "they lost a splendid officer through my means since i have been gone this time. it was a pity though to kill such a man if he was a d--d yankee." then he went on to tell how he had been at headquarters, and heard "lieutenant v." say that he was going to visit the picket line at such a time, and he had hastened away and informed the rebel sharpshooters that one of the headquarter officers would be there at a certain time, and if they would charge on that portion of the line they might capture him and obtain some valuable information. instead of this, however, they watched for his approach, and shot him as soon as he made his appearance. i thanked god for that information. i would willingly have wrought with those negroes on that parapet for two months, and have worn the skin off my hands half a dozen times, to have gained that single item. he was a fated man from that moment; his life was not worth three cents in confederate scrip. but fortunately he did not know the feelings that agitated the heart of that little black urchin who sat there so quietly filling those canteens, and it was well that he did not. on the evening of the third day from the time i entered the camp of the enemy i was sent, in company with the colored men, to carry supper to the outer picket posts on the right wing. this was just what i wished for, and had been making preparations during the day, in view of the possibility of such an event, providing, among other things, a canteen full of whiskey. some of the men on picket duty were black and some were white. i had a great partiality for those of my own color, so calling out several darkies i spread before them some corn cake, and gave them a little whiskey for dessert. while we were thus engaged the yankee minnie balls were whistling round our heads, for the picket lines of the contending parties were not half a mile distant from each other. the rebel pickets do not remain together in groups of three or four as our men do, but are strung along, one in each place, from three to four rods apart. i proposed to remain a while with the pickets, and the darkies returned to camp without me. not long after night an officer came riding along the lines, and seeing me he inquired what i was doing there. one of the darkies replied that i had helped to carry out their supper, and was waiting until the yankees stopped firing before i started to go back. turning to me he said, "you come along with me." i did as i was ordered, and he turned and went back the same way he came until we had gone about fifty rods, then halting in front of a petty officer he said, "put this fellow on the post where that man was shot until i return." i was conducted a few rods farther, and then a rifle was put into my hands, which i was told to use freely in case i should see anything or anybody approaching from the enemy. then followed the flattering remark, after taking me by the coat-collar and giving me a pretty hard shake, "now, you black rascal, if you sleep on your post i'll shoot you like a dog." "oh no, massa, i'se too feerd to sleep," was my only reply. the night was very dark, and it was beginning to rain. i was all alone now, but how long before the officer might return with some one to fill my place i did not know, and i thought the best thing i could do was to make good use of the present moment. after ascertaining as well as possible the position of the picket on each side of me, each of whom i found to be enjoying the shelter of the nearest tree, i deliberately and noiselessly stepped into the darkness, and was soon gliding swiftly through the forest toward the "land of the free," with my splendid rifle grasped tightly lest i should lose the prize. i did not dare to approach very near the federal lines, for i was in more danger of being shot by them than by the enemy; so i spent the remainder of the night within hailing distance of our lines, and with the first dawn of morning i hoisted the well known signal and was welcomed once more to a sight of the dear old stars and stripes. i went immediately to my tent. mrs. b. was delighted at my return; she was the only person in camp who knew me. jack was sent to the quartermaster's with an order for a new suit of soldier's clothes. when he saw they were for me, on his return, he said: "hi! dat darkie tinks he's some. guess he don't cook no more for massa doct'r." after removing as much of the color as it was possible for soap and water to do, my complexion was a nice maroon color, which my new costume showed off to good advantage. had my own mother seen me then, it would have been difficult to convince her of our relationship. i made out my report immediately and carried it to general mcclellan's headquarters, together with my trophy from the land of traitors. i saw general g. b., but he did not recognize me, and ordered me to go and tell a. to appear before him in an hour from that time. i returned again to my tent, chalked my face, and dressed in the same style as on examination day, went at the hour appointed, and received the hearty congratulations of the general. the rifle was sent to washington, and is now in the capitol as a memento of the war. do my friends wish to know how i felt in such a position and in such a costume? i will tell them. i felt just as happy and as comfortable as it was possible for any one to be under similar circumstances. i am naturally fond of adventure, a little ambitious and a good deal romantic, and this together with my devotion to the federal cause and determination to assist to the utmost of my ability in crushing the rebellion, made me forget the unpleasant items, and not only endure, but really enjoy, the privations connected with my perilous positions. perhaps a spirit of adventure was important--but _patriotism_ was the grand secret of my success. being fatigued, and the palms of both my hands in raw flesh, i thought it best to wait a few days before setting out upon another adventure. while i was thus situated i made a point of becoming acquainted with nellie, my rebel captive. she was trying to make herself useful in the hospital, notwithstanding her hand was very painful--often waiting upon those who were suffering less than she was herself. her pale, pensive face and widow's weeds seemed to possess peculiar attractions for doctor e., and her hand was a bond of mutual sympathy between them, and afforded many pretexts for a half hour's conversation. chapter ix. evacuation of yorktown--our army on the double quick--pursuit of the fugitives--the enemy's works--a battle--on the field--a "wounded," and not injured colonel--carrying the wounded--fort magruder silenced--the victory won--burying the dead--story of a ring--wounded rebels--a brave young sergeant--christian soldiers--a soldier's death-bed--closing scenes--last words. the next day the continuous roar of cannon all along the lines of the enemy was kept up incessantly. "nor did it cease at night, for when darkness settled over the encampment, from the ramparts that stretched away from yorktown there were constant gushes of flame, while the heavy thunder rolled far away in the gloom." a little after midnight the cannonading ceased, and a strange silence rested upon hill and valley. the first dawn of day which broke peacefully over the landscape discovered to the practiced eye of professor lowe that the entrenchments of the enemy were deserted; the rebels had abandoned their stronghold during the night and had fled toward richmond. the news spread throughout the federal army like lightning; from right to left and from center to circumference the entire encampment was one wild scene of joy. music and cheering were the first items in the programme, and then came the following order: "commandants of regiments will prepare to march with two days' rations, with the utmost dispatch. leave, not to return." at about eight o'clock in the morning our advance guard entered yorktown. there were nearly one hundred guns of different kinds and calibers and a large quantity of ammunition. the road over which the fugitive army passed during the night was beat up into mortar, knee deep, and was strewn with fragments of army wagons, tents and baggage. the federal troops were in excellent spirits, and pushed on after the retreating army almost on the double quick. in this manner they kept up the pursuit until toward evening, when the cavalry came up with the rear-guard of the enemy about two miles from williamsburg, where a sharp skirmish followed. night came on and firing ceased; the rebels were behind their entrenchments, and our army bivouaced for the night. the cavalry and artillery forces were under command of general stoneman; generals heintzelman, hooker and smith were in command of the advance column of infantry, while generals kearney, couch and casey brought up the rear. the enemy's works were four miles in extent, nearly three-fourths of their front being covered by the tributaries of queen's creek and college creek. the main works were a large fortification, called fort magruder, and twelve redoubts for field guns. the woods around and inside of those works were felled, and the ground was thickly dotted with rifle pits. the battle commenced the next morning at half-past seven o'clock. general hooker began the attack. the enemy were heavily reinforced, and made a desperate resistance. hooker lost a great number of men and five pieces of artillery before kearney, couch or casey came up. the roads were a perfect sea of mud, and now it was raining in torrents. the roar of battle sounded all along the lines; the thunder of cannon and the crash of musketry reverberated through the woods and over the plain, assuring the advancing troops that their companions were engaged in deadly strife. the thick growth of heavy timber was felled in all directions, forming a splendid ambush for the rebel sharpshooters. the federals moved forward in the direction of the enemy's works, steadily, firmly, through ditch and swamp, mud and mire, loading and firing as they went, and from every tree, bush and covert, which could conceal a man, the rebels poured a deadly fire into the ranks of our advancing troops. i was glad now that i had postponed my second visit to the enemy, for there was plenty of work for me to do here, as the ghastly faces of the wounded and dying testified. i was subject to all kinds of orders. one moment i was ordered to the front with a musket in my hands; the next to mount a horse and carry an order to some general, and very often to take hold of a stretcher with some strong man and carry the wounded from the field. i remember one little incident in connection with my experience that day which i shall never forget, viz.: colonel ---fell, and i ran to help put him on a stretcher and carry him to a place of safety, or where the surgeons were, which was more than i was able to do without overtaxing my strength, for he was a very heavy man. a poor little stripling of a soldier and myself carried him about a quarter of a mile through a terrific storm of bullets, and he groaning in a most piteous manner. we laid him down carefully at the surgeon's feet, and raised him tenderly from the stretcher, spread a blanket and laid him upon it, then lingered just a moment to see whether the wound was mortal. the surgeon commenced to examine the case; there was no blood to indicate where the wound was, and the poor sufferer was in such agony that he could not tell where it was. so the surgeon examined by piecemeal until he had gone through with a thorough examination, and there was not even a scratch to be seen. doctor e. straightened himself up and said, "colonel, you are not wounded at all; you had better let these boys carry you back again." the colonel became indignant, and rose to his feet with the air of an insulted hero and said: "doctor, if i live to get out of this battle i'll call you to account for those words;" to which doctor e. replied with decision, "sir, if you are not with your regiment in fifteen minutes i shall report you to general h." i turned and left the spot in disgust, mentally regretting that the lead or steel of the enemy had not entered the breast of one who seemed so ambitious of the honor without the effect. as i returned to my post i made up my mind in future to ascertain whether a man was wounded or not before i did anything for him. the next i came to was captain wm. r. m., of the ---michigan. his leg was broken and shattered from the ankle to the knee. as we went to lift him on a stretcher he said: "just carry me out of range of the guns, and then go back and look after the boys. mc---and l. have fallen, and perhaps they are worse off than i am." oh how glad i was to hear those words from his lips. it confirmed the opinion i had formed of him long before; he was one of my first acquaintances in the army, and, though he was a strict disciplinarian, i had watched his christian deportment and kind and affectionate manner toward his men with admiration and interest. i believed him noble and brave, and those few words on the battle-field at such a moment spoke volumes for that faithful captain's heroism and love for his men. the battle was raging fiercely, the men were almost exhausted, the rebels were fighting like demons, and were driving our troops back step by step, while the space between the two lines was literally covered with dead and wounded men and horses. one tremendous shout from the federals rent the air and fairly shook the earth. we all knew in an instant, as if by intuition, what called forth such wild cheers from that weary and almost overpowered army. "kearney!" was shouted enthusiastically along the federal lines, while the fresh troops were hurled like thunderbolts upon the foe. one battery after another was taken from the enemy, and charge after charge was made upon their works, until the tide of battle was turned, fort magruder silenced, and the stars and stripes were floating in triumph over the rebel works. the battle was won, and victory crowned the union arms. the rebels were flying precipitately from the field, and showers of bullets thick as hail followed the retreating fugitives. night closed around us, and a darkness which almost equaled that of "egypt" settled over the battle-field, and the pitiless rain came down in torrents, drenching alike the living and the dead. there lay upon that crimson field two thousand two hundred and twenty-eight of our own men, and more than that number of the enemy. it was indescribably sad to see our weary, exhausted men, with torches, wading through mud to their knees piloting the ambulances over the field, lest they should trample upon the bodies of their fallen comrades. all night long we toiled in this manner, and when morning came still there were hundreds found upon the field. those of the enemy were found in heaps, both dead and wounded piled together in ravines, among the felled timber, and in rifle pits half covered with mud. now the mournful duty came of identifying and burying the dead. oh, what a day was that in the history of my life, as well as of thousands both north and south. it makes me shudder now while i recall its scenes. to see those fair young forms crushed by the war-horse tread, the dear and bleeding ones stretched by the piled-up dead. oh, war, cruel war! thou dost pierce the soul with untold sorrows, as well as thy bleeding victims with death. how many joyous hopes and bright prospects hast thou blasted; and how many hearts and homes hast thou made desolate! "as we think of the great wave of woe and misery surging over the land, we could cry out in very bitterness of soul--oh god! how long, how long!" the dead lay in long rows on the field, their ghastly faces hid from view by handkerchiefs or the capes of their overcoats, while the faithful soldiers were digging trenches in which to bury the mangled bodies of the slain. i passed along the entire line and uncovered every face, in search of one who had given me a small package the day before when going into battle, telling me that if he should be killed to send it home; and, said he, "here is a ring on my finger which i want you to send to ----. it has never been off my finger since she placed it there the morning i started for washington. if i am killed please take it off and send it to her." i was now in search of him, but could find nothing of the missing one. at last i saw a group of men nearly half a mile distant, who also seemed to be engaged in burying the dead. i made my way toward them as fast as i could, but when i reached them the bodies had all been lowered into the trench, and they were already filling it up. i begged them to let me go down and see if my friend was among the dead, to which the kind hearted boys consented. his body lay there partially covered with earth; i uncovered his face; he was so changed i should not have recognized him, but the ring told me that it was he. i tried with all my might to remove the ring, but could not. the fingers were so swollen that it was impossible to get it off. in life it was a pledge of faithfulness from one he loved, "and in death they were not divided." the dead having been buried and the wounded removed to the churches and college buildings in williamsburg, the fatigued troops sought repose. upon visiting the wounded rebels i saw several whom i had met in yorktown, among them the sergeant of the picket post who had given me a friendly shake and told me if i slept on my post he would shoot me like a dog. he was pretty badly wounded, and did not seem to remember me. a little farther on a young darkie lay groaning upon the floor. i went to look at him, and asked if i could do anything for him. i recognized in the distorted face before me the same darkie who had befriended me at yorktown, and to whom i had offered the five dollar greenback. i assure my friends that i repaid that boy's kindness with double interest; i told doctor e. what he had done for me when my "hands" turned traitors. he was made an especial object of interest and care. some few of the rebel prisoners were gentlemanly and intelligent, and their countenances betokened a high state of moral culture. many were low, insolent, bloodthirsty creatures, who "neither feared god nor regarded man;" while others there were who seemed not to know enough to be either one thing or the other, but were simply living, breathing animals, subject to any order, and who would just as soon retreat as advance, so long as they did not have to fight. they did not care which way the battle went. on the whole there was a vast contrast between the northern and southern soldiers as they appeared in the hospitals, but perhaps prejudice had something to do in making the rebels appear so much inferior to our men. in passing through the college building i noticed a young sergeant, a mere boy, who was shot in the temple. he attracted my attention, and i made some inquiry concerning him. he was a federal, and belonged to the --massachusetts regiment. an old soldier sitting by him told me the following: "that boy is not sixteen yet; he enlisted as a private, and has, by his bravery and good conduct, earned the three stripes which you see on his arm. he fought all day yesterday like a young lion, leading charges again and again upon the enemy. after we lost our captain and lieutenants he took command of the company, and led it through the battle with the skill and courage of a young brigadier, until he fell stunned and bleeding. i carried him off the field, but could not tell whether he was dead or alive. i washed the blood from his face; the cold water had a salutary effect upon him, for when hancock and kearney had completed their work, and the cheers of victory rang over the bloody field, he was sufficiently revived to hear the inspiring tones of triumph. leaping to his feet, faint and sick as he was, he took up the shout of victory in unison with the conquerers on the field. but he had scarcely uttered the notes of victory and glory when his strength deserted him and he fell insensible to the ground." the old man added: "general ---says if he lives through this he will go into the next battle with shoulder straps on." i went up to him, took his feverish hand, and told him that i was glad that his wound was not mortal. he thanked me, and said with enthusiasm, "i would rather have been killed than to have lost the battle." there is one thing that i have noticed on the field in every battle that i have witnessed, viz.: that the christian man is the best soldier. says a minister of the gospel, writing upon this subject: "it is a common saying among the officers that, as a class, the men who stand foremost when the battle rages are the christian men. many a time i have talked with them about such scenes, and they have told me that their souls have stood firm in that hour of strife, and that they have been perfectly calm. i have had christian generals tell me this. i have heard general howard often say that in the midst of the most terrific portion of the battle, when his heart for a moment quailed, he would pause, and lift up his soul to god and receive strength. "and," said he, "i have gone through battles without a particle of fear. i have thought that god sent me to defend my country. i believed it was a christian duty to stand in the foremost of the fight, and why should i be afraid?" i once heard an eminently pious lady say that she never could reconcile the idea in her mind of a christian going into the army to fight; it was so inconsistent with the christian character that she was tempted to doubt the piety of all fighting men. i respect the lady's views upon the subject, but beg leave to differ from her; for i believe that a man can serve god just as acceptably in fighting the enemies of liberty, truth and righteousness with the musket down south, as he can in the quiet pulpits of the north; in fact i am inclined to think he can do so a little more effectually in the former place. i only wish that there were more of our holy men willing to take up the carnal weapons of warfare, forego the luxuries of home, and, by setting examples worthy of emulation, both in camp and on the battle field, thus strike a fatal blow at this unholy rebellion. the last night i spent in the hospital before leaving williamsburg, i witnessed the death of a christian soldier, a perfect description of which i find in the "memorials of the war:" "it was the hour of midnight, when the chaplain was summoned to the cot of a wounded soldier. he had only left him an hour before, with confident hopes of his speedy recovery--hopes which were shared by the surgeon and the wounded man himself. but a sudden change had taken place, and the surgeon had come to say that the man could live but an hour or two at most, and to beg the chaplain to make the announcement to the dying man. he was soon at his side, but overpowered by his emotions, was utterly unable to deliver his message. the dying man, however, quickly read the solemn truth in the altered looks of the chaplain, his faltering voice and ambiguous words. he had not before entertained a doubt of his recovery. he was expecting soon to see his mother, and with her kind nursing soon to be well. he was therefore entirely unprepared for the announcement, and at first it was overwhelming. "'i am to die then; and--how long?' as he had before expressed hope in christ, the chaplain replied: 'you have made your peace with god; let death come as soon as it will, he will carry you safely over the river.' 'yes; but this is so awfully sudden, awfully sudden!' his lips quivered; he looked up grievingly: 'and i shall not see my mother.' 'christ is better than a mother,' murmured the chaplain. 'yes.' the word came in a whisper. his eyes were closed; the lips still wore that trembling grief, as if the chastisement were too sore, too hard to be borne; but as the minutes passed, and the soul lifted itself up stronger and more steadily upon the wings of prayer, the countenance grew calmer, the lips steadier, and when the eyes opened again there was a light in their depths that could have come only from heaven. "'i thank you for your courage,' he said more feebly, taking the chaplain's hand; 'the bitterness is over now, and i feel willing to die. tell my mother'--he paused, gave one sob, dry, and full of the last anguish of earth--'tell her how i longed to see her; but if god will permit me i will be near her. tell her to comfort all who loved me; to say that i thought of them all. tell my father that i am glad that he gave his consent. tell my minister, by word or letter, that i thought of him, and that i thank him for all his counsels. tell him i find that christ will not desert the passing soul, and that i wish him to give my testimony to the living, that nothing is of real worth but the religion of jesus; and now, will you pray with me?' with swelling emotion and tender tones the chaplain besought god's grace and presence; then, restraining his sobs, he bowed down and pressed upon the beautiful brow, already chilled with the breath of the coming angel, twice, thrice, a fervent kiss. they might have been as tokens from the father and mother, as well as for himself. "so thought, perhaps, the dying soldier, for a heavenly smile touched his face with new beauty, as he said, 'thank you; i won't trouble you any longer. you are wearied out; go to your rest.' 'the lord god be with you!' was the firm response. 'amen,' trembled from the fast whitening lips. another hour passed, still the chaplain did not go to rest, but retired to an adjoining room; he was about to return to the bedside of the dying when the surgeon met him and whispered softly, 'he is gone.' christ's soldier had found the captain of his salvation, and received his reward." tell my mother, when you see her, that i fell amid the strife; and for freedom and my country i have given up my life; tell her that i sent this message ere my tongue refused to speak, and you tell her, comrade, won't you? tell my mother not to weep. tell her, comrade, how we battled for our country and the right; how i held the starry banner in the thickest of the fight; tell her how they struggled for it, and, with curses loud and deep, took my bosom for their target- but tell her not to weep. tell her i held up the banner 'mid the screaming shot and shell, till the fatal leaden missile pierced my side, and then i fell. tell her i was ready, waiting, when my pulses ceased to beat, and i longed once more to see her- but you tell her not to weep. tell her that the truths she taught me nerved my arm and led my feet, and i trusted in the promise 'mid the battle's fiercest heat. tell her, while my life was ebbing, that i kissed her face so sweet- kissed the picture that she gave me- and you tell her not to weep. tell her, comrade, when you see her, that my battlefields are o'er, and i've gone to join an army where rebellion comes no more; tell her that i hope to greet her, when together we shall meet, in that better home in heaven, where we never more shall weep. chapter x. mcclellan's despatch from ewell's farm--call for reinforcements--news from norfolk--description of the merrimac--the engagement in hampton roads--first and last fight of the merrimac--victory of the monitor--advance on the peninsula--the battle song--a muddy march--on the chickahominy--critical position of general banks--the president's despatches--mcclellan's reply. on the tenth of may headquarters were established beyond williamsburg, and communications were opened between the forces moving by land and water. the following despatch was then sent by general mcclellan to secretary stanton: "camp at ewell's farm, "three miles beyond williamsburg, "_may 10th--5 a. m._ "from the information reaching me from every source, i regard it as certain that the enemy will meet us with all his force on or near the chickahominy. they can concentrate many more men than i have, and are collecting troops from all quarters, especially well disciplined troops from the south. casualties, sickness, garrisons and guards have much reduced our numbers, and will continue to do so. i shall fight the rebel army with whatever force i may have, but duty requires me to urge that every effort be made to reinforce me, without delay, with all the disposable troops in eastern virginia, and that we concentrate all our forces, as far as possible, to fight the great battle now impending, and to make it decisive. it is possible that the enemy may abandon richmond without a serious struggle, but i do not believe he will; and it would be unwise to count upon anything but a stubborn and desperate defense--a life and death contest. i see no other hope for him than to fight this battle, and we must win it. i shall fight them whatever their force may be; but i ask for every man that the department can send me. no troops should now be left unemployed. those who entertain the opinion that the rebels will abandon richmond without a struggle are, in my judgment, badly advised, and do not comprehend their situation, which is one requiring desperate measures. i beg that the president and secretary will maturely weigh what i say, and leave nothing undone to comply with my request. if i am not reinforced it is probable that i will be obliged to fight nearly double my numbers strongly entrenched." four days later he writes: "i will fight the enemy, whatever their force may be, with whatever force i may have, and i believe that we shall beat them; but our triumph should be made decisive and complete. the soldiers of this army love their government, and will fight well in its support. you may rely upon them. they have confidence in me as their general, and in you as their president. strong reinforcements will at least save the lives of many of them; the greater our force the more perfect will be our combinations, and the less our loss. for obvious reasons i beg you to give immediate consideration to this communication, and to inform me fully, at the earliest moment, of your final decision." a few days' rest after the fatigues of the battle, and the glorious news of the evacuation of norfolk and the total annihilation of the merrimac, had a wonderful effect upon the spirits of our troops; they seemed inspired with new courage and enthusiasm. hitherto i have said nothing concerning that great bugbear, the merrimac. perhaps some of my "blue-nose" readers are not so well posted with regard to the origin and structure of this formidable rebel battery as the americans are, and it may be interesting to some to listen to a brief description of it. "upon the burning and evacuation of the norfolk navy yard the steam frigate merrimac was scuttled and sunk, by order of commodore macaulay. this was one of the most magnificent ships in the american navy, being rated as a forty-gun frigate, of four thousand tons burden. she was built in charlestown, massachusetts, in 1856, and was considered one of the finest specimens of naval architecture then afloat. she was two hundred and eighty-one feet long, fifty-two feet broad, and drew twenty-three feet of water. her engines were of eight hundred horse power, driving a two-bladed propeller fourteen feet in diameter, and so adjusted as to be raised from the water when the vessel was driven by wind alone. her armament consisted of twenty-four nine-inch shell guns, fourteen eight-inch, and two one hundred-pound pivot guns. this magnificent structure was raised by the rebels and cut down, leaving only the hull, which was exceedingly massive and solid. over this they constructed a sloping shield of railroad iron, firmly plaited together, and extending two feet under the water. its appearance was much like the slanting roof of a house set upon a ship's hull, like an extinguisher, the ends of the vessel, fore and aft, projecting a few feet beyond this roof. the gun-deck was completely inclosed by this shield, and nothing appeared above it but a short smoke-stack and two flag-staffs." an eye witness gives the following account of the first appearance and conflict of the merrimac: "about noon of saturday, the eighth of march, 1862, this monster was seen coming around craney island from norfolk, accompanied by two other war vessels, the jamestown and yorktown, and quite a little fleet of armed tugs. the merrimac, with her imposing retinue in train, headed for newport news, where there was a national garrison, guarded by the sailing frigates the cumberland, of one thousand seven hundred and twenty-six tons, and the congress, of one thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven tons burden. the merrimac steamed majestically along, as if conscious of resistless strength, and as she passed the congress discharged a single broadside into the doomed ship, and then, leaving her to the attention of the jamestown and yorktown, made directly for the cumberland. when the merrimac was within a hundred yards of the two frigates, they both discharged their tremendous broadsides against her armor. "the mailed monster quivered a moment under the fearful concussion, but every ball glanced from her sloping shield like the wooden arrows of the indian from the hide of the crocodile. her ports were all closed. not deigning to pay any attention to the fierce but harmless assault of the two frigates, she rushed straight forward upon her prey. the formidable national battery at newport news opened, with all its immense guns, at point-blank range, and these solid shot and shells also glanced harmlessly away. on rushed the silent merrimac, with not a soul on board to be seen, true as an arrow, and with all the power of her irresistible weight, plunged headlong with a fearful crash into the side of the helpless frigate. the iron prow of the assailant struck the cumberland amidships, crushing in her side with a mortal gash. then, reversing her engine, and not even annoyed by the cannon balls rattling against her impervious mail, she retraced her steps a few rods for another butt. "as she drew back she turned her broadside to the wounded victim, and hurled into her bosom a merciless volley of shot and shells. the ponderous missiles tore through the crowded ship, hurling her massive guns about her decks, and scattering mutilated bodies in all directions. again gathering headway, she crowded on all steam and made another plunge at the cumberland. she struck directly upon the former wound, and crushed in the whole side of the ship as if it had been a lattice work of laths. "timbers as strong as nature and art could make them, were snapped and crushed like dry twigs. as the sun went down, that night, over hampton roads, every union heart in the fleet and in the fortress throbbed with despair. there was no gleam of hope. the merrimac was impervious to balls, and could go where she pleased. in the morning it would be easy work for her to destroy our whole fleet. she could then shell newport news and fortress monroe at her leisure, setting everything combustible in flames, and driving every man from the guns. "'that morrow! how anxiously we waited for it! how much we feared its results! at sundown there was nothing to dispute the empire of the seas with the merrimac, and had a land attack been made by magruder then, god only knows what our fate would have been.' all at once a speck of light gleamed on the distant wave; it moved; it came nearer and nearer, and at ten o'clock that night the monitor appeared. 'when the tale of brick is doubled, moses comes.' i never more firmly believed in special providences than at that hour. even skeptics were converted, and said, 'god has sent her.' but how insignificant she looked; she was but a speck on the dark blue wave at night, and almost a laughable object by day. the enemy call her a 'cheese-box on a raft,' and the comparison is a good one." but insignificant as she appeared, she saved the union fleet, silenced the rebel monster, and eventually caused her to commit suicide. no wonder then that the news of the death of this formidable foe caused great rejoicing among the union troops. orders were issued to continue the advance up the peninsula; and as the jubilant troops were engaged in striking tents and making the necessary preparations consequent upon a hurried march, "the battle song of the republic" was being sung with enthusiasm throughout the encampment by thousands of manly voices, and every loyal heart seemed inspired by the glorious sentiments which it contained. mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord; he is trampling out the vintage where the grape of wrath is stored; he hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword; his truth is marching on. chorus--glory, glory, hallelujah! glory, glory, hallelujah! glory, glory, hallelujah! his truth is marching on. i have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; they have builded him an altar in the evening's dews and damps; i can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaming lamps; his day is marching on, etc. i have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: as ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; let the hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, since god is marching on, etc. he has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; he is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat; o, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! our god is marching on, etc. in the beauty of the lilies christ was born across the sea, with a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: as he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, while god is marching on, etc. the roads were so indescribably bad at this time that the army could make but little progress. i remember it required thirty-six hours for one train to accomplish the distance of five miles. however, after several days wading through mud and water, the troops reached the white house, where a portion of the army remained for a time, while the advance guards pushed on to the chickahominy river, and established headquarters at bottom's bridge--its further progress being impeded by the destruction of the bridge by the rebels. "the position of the troops were as follows: stoneman's advance-guard one mile from new bridge; franklin's corps three miles from new bridge, with porter's corps in advancing distance in its rear; sumner's corps on the railroad, about three miles from the chickahominy, connecting the right with the left; keyes' on new kent road, near bottom's bridge, with heintzelman's corps at supporting distance in its rear." the ford was in possession of the federal troops, and a reconstruction of the bridge was immediately commenced. on the 24th of may the two following despatches were received by gen. mcclellan from the president: "i wish you to move cautiously and safely. you will have command of mcdowell precisely as you indicated in your despatch to us." "in consequence of gen. banks' critical position, i have been compelled to suspend gen. mcdowell's movement to join you. the enemy are making a desperate push upon harper's ferry, and we are trying to throw gen. fremont's force, and part of gen. mcdowell's, in their rear!" on the 25th, the president also sent the following to mcclellan: "the enemy is moving north in sufficient force to drive gen. banks before him; precisely in what force we cannot tell. he is also threatening leesburg and geary on the manassas gap railroad, from north and south; i think the movement is a general and concerted one--such as would not be if he was acting upon the purpose of a very desperate defense of richmond. i think the time is near when you must either attack richmond or give up the job, and come to the defense of washington. let me hear from you instantly." to which mcclellan replied: "telegram received. independently of it, the time is very near when i shall attack richmond. the object of the movement is probably to prevent reinforcements being sent to me. all the information obtained agree in the statement that the mass of the rebel troops are still in the vicinity of richmond. i have no knowledge of banks' position and force, nor what there is at manassas; therefore cannot form a definite opinion as to the forces against him. i have two corps across chickahominy, within six miles of richmond; the others on this side at other crossings, within same distance, and ready to cross when bridges are completed." chapter xi. another disguise--i become an irish peddler--fever and ague--a night of suffering in the swamp--retrospection--lost in the swamp--cannon my guides--a sick rebel--i find something to eat--my new patient--sympathy for suffering--talk with a dying rebel--a willing detention--extemporizing a light--the last hour--soldiers of christ--the chamber of death. while all these preparations were going forward, i was meditating another visit to the rebel camp. it was not safe for me to attempt to palm myself off again on the rebels as a colored boy. in the first place, i should be in danger of being recognized as the cowardly picket who deserted his post--a crime worthy of death; and in the next place, i should be in imminent danger of blistering my hands again--a thing which i felt particularly anxious to avoid, especially in performing labor that would enable the enemy more successfully to repel the attacks of the federals. now a new disguise was necessary, and i decided to abandon the african relation, and assume that of the hibernian. having had this in view before leaving williamsburg, i procured the dress and outfit of an irish female peddler, following the army, selling cakes, pies, etc., together with a considerable amount of brogue, and a set of irish phrases, which did much toward characterizing me as one of the "rale ould stock of bog-trotters." the bridges were not finished across the chickahominy when i was ready to cross the river, so i packed up my new disguise in my cake and pie basket, and my horse, "frank," and i took a bath in the cool water of the chickahominy. after swimming my noble steed across the river, i dismounted, and led him to the edge of the water--gave him a farewell pat, and let him swim back again to the other side, where a soldier awaited his return. it was now evening; i did not know the precise distance to the enemy's picket line, but thought it best to avoid the roads, and consequently i must spend the night in the swamp, as the only safe retreat. it required some little time to don my new disguise, and feel at home in the clothes. i thought the best place for my debut was the "chickahominy swamp." i did not purpose, this time, to pass the enemy's lines in the night, but to present myself at the picket line, at a seasonable hour, and ask admission as one of the fugitives of that section flying from the approach of the yankees, which was a usual thing. in crossing the river i had my basket strapped on my back, and did not know that all it contained was completely drenched, until i required to use its contents. it was, therefore, with feelings of dread and disappointment that i discovered this sad fact, for i had been suffering from slight ague chills during the day, and feared the consequences of spending the night in wet clothing, especially in that malaria-infested region. however, there was no alternative, and i was obliged to make the best of it. i had brought a patch-work quilt with me from the hospital, but that, too, was wet. yet it kept off some of the chill night air, and the miasmatic breath of that "dismal swamp." the remembrance of the sufferings of that night seem to be written upon my memory "as with a pen of iron." there i was, all alone, surrounded by worse, yes, infinitely worse, than wild beasts--by blood-thirsty savages--who considered death far too good for those who were in the employment of the united states government. that night i was attacked by severe chills--chills beyond description, or even conception, except by those who have experienced the freezing sensation of a genuine ague chill. during the latter part of the night the other extreme presented itself, and it seemed as if i should roast alive, and not a single drop of water to cool my parched tongue; it was enough to make any one think of the "rich man" of the bible, and in sympathy with his feelings cry to "father abraham" for assistance. my mind began to wander, and i became quite delirious. there seemed to be the horrors of a thousand deaths concentrated around me; i was tortured by fiends of every conceivable shape and magnitude. oh, how it makes me shudder to recall the scenes which my imagination conjured up during those dark weary hours! morning at last came, and i was aroused from the horrible night-mare which had paralyzed my senses through the night, by the roar of cannon and the screaming of shell through the forest. but there i was, helpless as an infant, equally unable to advance or retreat, without friend or foe to molest or console me, and nothing even to amuse me but my own thoughts. i looked upon the surrounding scenery, and pronounced it very unromantic; then my eye fell upon my irish costume, and i began to remember the fine phrases which i had taken so much pains to learn, when the perfect absurdity of my position rushed over my mind with overwhelming force, and the ludicrousness of it made me, for the moment, forget my lamentable condition, and with one uncontrollable burst of laughter i made that swamp resound in a manner which would have done credit to a person under happier circumstances, and in a better state of health. that mood soon passed away, and i began a retrospection of my past life. it certainly had been an eventful one. i took great interest in carefully tracing each link in the chain of circumstances which had brought me to the spot whereon i now lay, deserted and alone, in that notorious chickahominy swamp. and ere i was aware of it, i was sighing over a few episodes in my past history--and mentally saying, well, only for this intense love of adventure, such and such things "might have been," and i should now be rejoicing in the honorable title of -------, instead of "wasting my sweetness on the desert air," in the wilderness of the peninsula. of all the sad words, of tongue or of pen, the saddest are these--"_it might have been_." the cannonading was only the result of a reconnoissance, and in a few hours ceased altogether. but not so my fever and chills; they were my constant companions for two days and two nights in succession. at the end of that time i was an object of pity. with no medicine, no food, and consequently little strength; i was nearly in a state of starvation. my pies and cakes were spoiled in the basket, in consequence of the drenching they had received in crossing the river, and now i had no means of procuring more. but something must be done; i could not bear the thought of thus starving to death in that inglorious manner; better die upon the scaffold at richmond, or be shot by the rebel pickets; anything but this. so i thought and said, as i rallied all my remaining strength to arrange my toilette preparatory to emerging from my concealment in the swamp. it was about nine o'clock in the morning of the third day after crossing the river, when i started, as i thought, towards the enemy's lines, and a more broken-hearted, forlorn-looking "bridget" never left "ould ireland," than i appeared to be that morning. i traveled from that time until five o'clock in the afternoon, and was then deeper in the swamp than when i started. my head or brain was completely turned. i knew not which way to go, nor did i know east from west, or north from south. it was a dark day in every sense of the word--and i had neither sun nor compass to guide me. at five o'clock the glorious booming of cannon reverberated through the dense wilderness, and to me, at that hour, it was the sweetest and most soul-inspiring music that ever greeted my ear. i now turned my face in the direction of the scene of action, and was not long in extricating myself from the desert which had so long enveloped me. soon after emerging from the swamp i saw, in the distance, a small white house, and thither i bent my weary footsteps. i found it deserted, with the exception of a sick rebel soldier, who lay upon a straw-tick on the floor in a helpless condition. i went to him, and assuming the irish brogue, i inquired how he came to be left alone, and if i could render him any assistance. he could only speak in a low whisper, and with much difficulty, said he had been ill with typhoid fever a few weeks before, and had not fully recovered when general stoneman attacked the rebels in the vicinity of coal harbor, and he was ordered to join his company. he participated in a sharp skirmish, in which the rebels were obliged to retreat; but he fell out by the way, and fearing to fall into the hands of the yankees, he had crawled along as best he could, sometimes on his hands and knees, until he reached the house in which i found him. [illustration: making hoe-cake for a sick rebel.--page 153.] he had not eaten anything since leaving camp, and he was truly in a starving condition. i did not dare say to him "ditto"--with regard to poor "bridget's" case--but thought so, and realized it most painfully. he also told me that the family who had occupied the house had abandoned it since he came there, and that they had left some flour and corn-meal, but had not time to cook anything for him. this was good news for me, and exhausted as i was, i soon kindled a fire, and in less than fifteen minutes a large hoe-cake was before it in process of baking, and a sauce-pan of water heating, for there was no kettle to be found. after searching about the premises, i found some tea packed away in a small basket, with some earthearn ware, which the family had forgotten to take with them. my cake being cooked, and tea made, i fed the poor famished rebel as tenderly as if he had been my brother, and he seemed as grateful for my kindness, and thanked me with as much politeness, as if i had been mrs. jeff davis. the next important item was to attend to the cravings of my own appetite, which i did without much ceremony. after making my toilet and adjusting my wig in the most approved irish style, i approached the sick man, and for the first time noticed his features and general appearance. he was a man about thirty years of age, was tall and had a slight figure, regular features, dark hair and large, mournful, hazel eyes; altogether he was a very pleasing and intelligent looking man. i thought him quite an interesting patient, and if i had had nothing more important to attend to, i should have enjoyed the privilege of caring for him until he recovered. it is strange how sickness and disease disarm our antipathy and remove our prejudices. there lay before me an enemy to the government for which i was daily and willingly exposing my life and suffering unspeakable privation; he may have been the very man who took deadly aim at my friend and sent the cruel bullet through his temple; and yet, as i looked upon him in his helpless condition, i did not feel the least resentment, or entertain an unkind thought toward him personally, but looked upon him only as an unfortunate, suffering man, whose sad condition called forth the best feelings of my nature, and i longed to restore him to health and strength; not considering that the very health and strength which i wished to secure for him would be employed against the cause which i had espoused. i had a great desire to know more of this man who had so strangely called forth my sympathies, and finding that he had grown stronger since he had partaken of some nourishment, i entered into conversation with him. i found that he was wholly and conscientiously a confederate soldier, but, strange to say, completely divested of that inveterate hatred of the yankees which is almost universal among the southerners. i dared not express my sentiments in very strong terms, but gently interrogated him with regard to the right which he claimed the rebels had to take up arms against the united states government. at length i asked him if he professed to be a soldier of the cross; he replied with emotion and enthusiasm, "yes, thank god! i have fought longer under the captain of my salvation than i have yet done under jeff. davis." my next and last question upon that subject was--"can you, as a disciple of christ, conscientiously and consistently uphold the institution of slavery?" he made no reply, but fixed those mournful eyes on my face with a sad expression, as much as to say--"ah, bridget, you have touched a point upon which my own heart condemns me, and i know that god is greater than my heart, and will also condemn me." in this earnest conversation i had unconsciously forgotten much of my hibernian accent, and i thought that the sick man began to suspect that i was not what my appearance indicated. it alarmed me for a moment, but i soon recovered my composure after stepping forward and examining his pulse, for he was fast sinking, and the little strength which he seemed to have a short time before was nearly exhausted. after studying my countenance a few moments he asked me to pray with him. i did not dare to refuse the dying man's request, nor did i dare to approach my maker in an assumed tone of voice; so i knelt down beside him, and in my own natural voice breathed a brief and earnest prayer for the departing soldier, for grace to sustain him in that trying hour, and finally for the triumph of truth and right. when i arose from my knees he grasped my hand eagerly and said: "please tell me who you are. i cannot, if i would, betray you, for i shall very soon be standing before that god whom you have just addressed." i could not tell him the truth and i would not tell him a falsehood, so i evaded a direct reply, but promised that when he became stronger i would tell him my history. he smiled languidly and closed his eyes, as much as to say that he understood me. it was now growing late. i was not far from the rebel lines, but was not able to successfully act a part in my present debilitated condition, and besides, i was glad that i could consistently remain over night with that poor dying man, rebel though he was. i began to look around for something which i might convert into a light, but did not succeed in finding anything better than a piece of salt pork, which i fried, pouring the fat into a dish in which i put a cotton rag, and then lighting the end of the rag i found i had secured quite a respectable light. after making some corn-meal gruel for my patient, i took care to fasten the doors and windows so that no one could enter the house without my knowledge, and screened the windows so that no light might attract the rebel scouts. thus with a sort of feeling of security i took my seat beside the sick man. the dews of death were already gathering on his pallid brow. i took his hand in mine, examined his pulse again, and wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. oh how those beautiful eyes thanked me for these little acts of kindness! he felt in his heart that i did not sympathize with him as a rebel, but that i was willing to do all that a sister could do for him in this hour of trial. this seemed to call forth more gratitude than if i had been heart and hand with the south. he looked up suddenly and saw me weeping--for i could not restrain my tears--he seemed then to understand that he was really dying. looking a little startled he exclaimed--"am i really dying?" oh, how often have i been obliged to answer that awful question in the affirmative! "yes, you are dying, my friend. is your peace made with god?" he replied, "my trust is in christ; he was mine in life, and in death he will not forsake me"--almost the very words i heard a dying federal soldier say, a few days before, at the hospital in williamsburg. a few weeks previous these two men had been arrayed against each other in deadly strife; yet they were brethren; their faith and hope were the same; they both trusted in the same saviour for salvation. then he said, "i have a last request to make. if you ever pass through the confederate camp between this and richmond inquire for major mckee, of general ewell's staff, and give him a gold watch which you will find in my pocket; he will know what to do with it; and tell him i died happy, peacefully." he then told me his name and the regiment to which he had belonged. his name was allen hall. taking a ring from his finger he tried to put it on mine, but his strength failed, and after a pause he said, "keep that ring in memory of one whose sufferings you have alleviated, and whose soul has been refreshed by your prayers in the hour of dissolution." then folding his hands together as a little child would do at its mother's knee, he smiled a mute invitation for prayer. after a few moments' agonizing prayer in behalf of that departing spirit, the dying man raised himself up in the bed and cried out with his dying breath, "glory to god! glory to god! i am almost home!" he was almost gone. i gave him some water, raised the window, and using my hat for a fan, i sat down and watched the last glimmering spark of light go out from those beautiful windows of the soul. putting his hand in mine he signed to me to raise his head in my arms. i did so, and in a few moments he ceased to breathe. he died about twelve o'clock--his hand clasping mine in the painful grip of death, my arm supporting him, and his head leaning on my bosom like a wearied child. i laid him down, closed his eyes, and straightened his rigid limbs; then folding his hands across his breast, i drew his blanket close around him and left him in the silent embrace of death. the beautiful, calm expression of his face made me think he looked like one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. this was rather a strange position for me to occupy at midnight--alone with death! yet i thanked god that it was my privilege to be there; and i thanked him for the religion of jesus which was the strength of my heart in that trying hour. yes, i could then rejoice in the providence which had detained me in the chickahominy swamp, and had thus brought me to the bedside of that suffering stranger. profound silence reigned supreme, and there was naught to chase away the darkness of that gloomy midnight hour save the consciousness that god was there. i felt it good thus to be drawn away from the tumult of war, and there, in the presence of the angel of death, hold communion with my own heart and drink deep from the well of holy meditation. i thought there were happy spirits hovering round the lifeless form of him who was so lovable in life and lovely in death. yes, i imagined the shining host had returned from escorting the triumphant spirit to the throne of god, and were now watching the beautiful casket which had encased the bright spirit whose companionship had made some southern home bright and joyous. i thought, too, of the loved ones who had gone and left me to finish my journey alone, and who would soon come to bear me away to that bright eternal world, if i only proved faithful unto death. "how impressively sad, how thrillingly beautiful, the lesson we glean from this silent spirit communion! our physical nature starts and shudders at the thought of joining the silent numbers of the dead; but our spiritual nature catches a glimpse of that spirit-life beyond the portals of the tomb, where life, pure, free and joyous, shall be ours." a lesson sad, but fraught with good- a tearful one, but strengthening food- thou givest me; we learn that "dust returns to dust," anew in god we put our trust, and bow the knee. chapter xii. am i a stoic?--someone's darling--completing my disguise--another start for the rebel lines--peppering my eyes--challenged by a picket--a cockney sentinel--getting information--plenty of beef, but no salt--rice and corn meal bread--preparing to visit headquarters--interview with major mckee--the major's misplaced confidence--return for the body of the rebel captain--my look-out for yankees--new orders. perhaps some of my readers will pronounce me a stoic, entirely devoid of feeling, when i tell them that two hours after i wrapped the unconscious form of my late patient in his winding-sheet, i enveloped myself in my patchwork quilt, and laid me down not far from the corpse, and slept soundly until six o'clock in the morning. feeling much refreshed i arose, and after spending a few moments by the side of my silent companion, contemplating the changes which the king of terrors had wrought, i cut a lock of hair from his temple, took the watch and a small package of letters from his pocket, replaced the blanket reverently, and bade him farewell. kiss him once for somebody's sake murmur a prayer soft and low; one bright curl from its dark mates take, they were somebody's pride, you know: somebody's hand hath rested there- was it a mother's, soft and white? and have the lips of a sister fair been baptized in their waves of light? god knows best! he was somebody's love; somebody's heart enshrined him there; somebody wafted his name above, night and morn, on the wings of prayer. somebody wept when he marched away, looking so handsome, brave and grand; somebody's kiss on his forehead lay, somebody clung to his parting hand. somebody's waiting and watching for him, yearning to hold him again to her heart; and there he lies with his dark eyes dim, and the smiling, childlike lips apart. tenderly bury the fair young dead, pausing to drop in his grave a tear; carve on the wooden slab at his head "somebody's darling slumbers here." after hastily partaking of a slight repast, which i could scarcely term breakfast, i commenced immediate preparations to leave the house. upon examining the basket in which i had found the tea on my arrival, i found a number of articles which assisted me much in assuming a more perfect disguise. there was mustard, pepper, an old pair of green spectacles, and a bottle of red ink. of the mustard i made a strong plaster about the size of a dollar, and tied it on one side of my face until it blistered it thoroughly. i then cut off the blister and put on a large patch of black court-plaster; with the ink i painted a red line around my eyes, and after giving my pale complexion a deep tinge with some ochre which i found in a closet, i put on my green glasses and my irish hood, which came over my face about six inches. i then made the tour of the house from garret to cellar, to find all the household fixings which an irishwoman would be supposed to carry with her in such an emergency--for i expected to be searched before i was admitted through the lines. i packed both my baskets, for i had two now, and was ready for another start. but before leaving i thought best to bury my pistol and every article in my possession which could in any way induce suspicion. then taking a farewell look at the beautiful features of the dead, i left the house, going directly the nearest road to the rebel picket line. i felt perfectly safe in doing so, for the rebel soldier's watch was a sufficient passport in daylight, and a message for major mckee would insure me civility at least. i followed the richmond road about five miles before meeting or seeing any one. at length i saw a sentinel in the distance, but before he observed me i sat down to rest and prepare my mind for the coming interview. while thus waiting to have my courage reinforced, i took from my basket the black pepper and sprinkled a little of it on my pocket handkerchief, which i applied to my eyes. the effect was all i could have desired, for taking a view of my prepossessing countenance in the small mirror which i always carried with me, i perceived that my eyes had a fine tender expression, which added very much to the beauty of their red borders. i was reminded of poor leah of old who failed to secure the affection of her husband in consequence of a similar blemish, and thought myself safe from the slightest approach to admiration on the part of the chivalry. i now resumed my journey, and displayed a flag of truce, a piece of a cotton window curtain which i brought from the house at which i had stopped over night. as i came nearer the picket-guard signaled to me to advance, which i did as fast as i could under the circumstances, being encumbered with two heavy baskets packed full of earthenware, clothing, quilts, etc. upon coming up to the guard, instead of being dismayed at his formidable appearance, i felt rejoiced, for there stood before me an immense specimen of a jolly englishman, with a blind smile on his good-natured face, provoked, i presume, by the supremely ludicrous figure i presented. he mildly questioned me with regard to my hopes and fears, whence i came and whither i was going, and if i had seen any yankees. my sorrowful story was soon told. my peppery handkerchief was freely applied to my eyes, and the tears ran down my face without the least effort on my part. the good-natured guard's sympathy was excited, more especially as i was a foreigner like himself, and he told me i could pass along and go just wherever i pleased, so far as he was concerned, adding in a sad tone, "i wish i was hat 'ome with my family, hand then jeff. davis hand the confederacy might go to 'ell for hall me. hinglishmen 'ave no business 'ere." i mentally exclaimed, "good for you--you are one after my own heart," but i replied to the englishman's patriotic speech after the following manner: "och, indade i wish yez was all at home wid yer families, barrin them as have no families; an sure its we poor craythurs of wimen that's heartbroken intirely, an fairly kilt wid this onnathral war;" and here my eyes were again carefully wiped with my handkerchief. after thanking the picket-guard for his kindness, i went on my way toward the rebel camp. i had not gone far when the guard called me back and advised me not to stay in camp over night, for, said he, "one of our spies has just come in and reported that the yankees have finished the bridges across the chickahominy, and intend to attack us either to-day or to-night, but jackson and lee are ready for them." he went on to tell me how many masked batteries they had prepared, and said he, "there is one," pointing to a brush-heap by the roadside, "that will give them fits if they come this way." feeling somewhat in a hurry, i started once more for camp. i concluded after getting through the lines that i could dispense with one of my baskets, so setting one of them down under a tree i felt much more comfortable, and was not quite so conspicuous an object going into camp. i went directly to headquarters and inquired for major mckee. i was told that he would not be there before evening, and my informant drawled out after me, "he's gone to set a trap for the d--d yankees." i made up my mind at once that i must find out as much as possible before night, and make my way back before the impending battle came on. upon looking around the camp i saw a shanty where some negro women were cooking meat. i went and told them that i was hungry and would like to have something to eat. "oh yes, honey, we'se got lots o' meat and bread, but haint got no salt; but reckon ye can eat it without." so saying an old auntie brought me a piece of boiled fresh beef and some bread; but i could not make out what the bread was made of; as near as i could guess, however, it was made of boiled rice and corn-meal, and that also was without salt. i thought it would be well to look a little smarter before i presented myself at headquarters again, lest i might not meet with that confidence which i felt it was important for me to secure. my patched and painted face made it impossible for any one to define the expression of my countenance. my blistered cheek was becoming very painful in consequence of the drawing of the court-plaster. i took off my glasses and bathed my face in clear, cold water, which did not remove much of the color, but made me a shade more like myself; then i succeeded in getting one of the colored women to go to the doctor's quarters and get me some unguent, or simple cerate, with which i dressed the blister. my eyes were sufficiently disfigured by this time to dispense with the glasses, so putting them in my basket i laid them aside for another occasion. there was no difficulty in finding out the force of the enemy or their plans for the coming battle, for every one, men and women, seemed to think and talk of nothing else. five o'clock came, and with it major mckee. i lost no time in presenting myself before his majorship, and with a profound irish courtesy i made known my business, and delivered the watch and package. i did not require any black pepper now to assist the lachrymal glands in performing their duty, for the sad mementoes which i had just delivered to the major so forcibly reminded me of the scenes of the past night that i could not refrain from weeping. the major, rough and stern as he was, sat there with his face between his hands and sobbed like a child. soon he rose to his feet, surveyed me from head to foot, and said, "you are a faithful woman, and you shall be rewarded." he then asked: "can you go direct to that house, and show my men where allen's body is?" i answered in the affirmative--whereupon he handed me a ten dollar federal bill, saying, as he did so: "if you succeed in finding the house, i will give you as much more." i thanked him, but positively declined taking the money. he did not seem to understand the philosophy of a person in my circumstances refusing money, and when i looked at him again his face wore a doubtful, puzzled expression, which alarmed me. i was actually frightened, and bursting into a passionate fit of weeping, i exclaimed vehemently: "oh, gineral, forgive me! but me conshins wud niver give me pace in this world nor in the nixt, if i wud take money for carying the dyin missage for that swate boy that's dead and gone--god rest his soul. och, indade, indade i nivir cud do sich a mane thing, if i im a poor woman." the major seemed satisfied, and told me to wait until he returned with a detachment of men. when he returned with the men, i told him that i did not feel able to walk that distance, and requested him to let me have a horse, stating the fact that i had been sick for several days, and had slept but little the night before. he did not answer a word, but ordered a horse saddled immediately, which was led forward by a colored boy, who assisted me to mount. i really felt mean, and for the first time since i had acted in the capacity of spy, i despised myself for the very act which i was about to perform. i must betray the confidence which that man reposed in me. he was too generous to harbor a suspicion against me, and thus furnished me the very means of betraying him. this feeling did not last long, however, for as we started on our mission he said to his men: "now, boys, bring back the body of captain hall, if you have to walk through yankee blood to the knees." that speech eased my conscience considerably. i was surprised to hear him say "captain hall," for i did not know until then that he was an officer. there was nothing about his uniform or person to indicate his rank, and i had supposed he was a private soldier. we made our way toward the house very cautiously, lest we should be surprised by the federals. i rode at the head of the little band of rebels as guide, not knowing but that i was leading them into the jaws of death every step we advanced, and if so it would probably be death for me as well as for them. thus we traveled those five miles, silently, thoughtfully, and stealthily. the sun had gone down behind the western hills, and the deepening shadows were fast gathering around us as we came in sight of the little white cottage in the forest, where i had so recently spent such a strangely, awfully solemn night. the little detachment halted to rest, and to make arrangements before approaching the house. this detachment consisted of twenty-four men, under a sergeant and a corporal. the men were divided into squads, each of which was to take its turn at carrying the body of their late captain upon a stretcher, which they had brought for that purpose. as we drew near, and saw no sign of an approaching enemy, they regretted that they had not brought an ambulance; but i did not regret it, for the present arrangement suited me exactly. having settled things satisfactorily among themselves, we again resumed our march and were soon at the gate. the sergeant then ordered the corporal to proceed to the house with a squad of men and bring out the corpse, while he stationed the remaining men to guard all the approaches to the house. he then asked me to ride down the road a little way, and if i should see or hear anything of the yankees to ride back as fast as possible and let them know. i assented, and joyfully complied with the first part of his request. this was a very pleasant duty assigned me, for which i mentally thanked the sergeant a thousand times. i turned and rode slowly down the road, but not "seeing or hearing anything of the yankees," i thought it best to keep on in that direction until i did. i was like the zouave, after the battle of bull run, who said he was ordered to retreat, but not being ordered to halt at any particular place, he preferred to keep on until he reached new york. so i preferred to keep on until i reached the chickahominy, where i reported progress to the federal general. i had no desire to have that little escort captured, and consequently said nothing about it in my report; so the sergeant, with his men, were permitted to return to the rebel camp unmolested, bearing with them the remains of their beloved captain. after getting out of sight of the rebel guards, i made that horse go over the ground about as fast, i think, as he ever did before--which seemed to give him a bad impression of yankees in general, and of me in particular, for ever after that night, it was as much as a person's life was worth to saddle him; at every attempt he would kick and bite most savagely. the next day the following order was issued: "upon advancing beyond the chickahominy the troops will go prepared for battle at a moment's notice, and will be entirely unencumbered, with the exception of ambulances. all vehicles will be left on the eastern side of the chickahominy, and carefully packed. "the men will leave their knapsacks, packed, with the wagons, and will carry three days rations. the arms will be put in perfect order before the troops march, and a careful inspection made of them, as well as of the cartridge-boxes, which in all cases will contain at least forty rounds; twenty additional rounds will be carried by the men in their pockets. commanders of batteries will see that their limber and caisson-boxes are filled to their utmost capacity. "commanders of army corps will devote their personal attention to the fulfillment of these orders, and will personally see that the proper arrangements are made for packing and properly guarding the trains and surplus baggage, taking all the steps necessary to insure their being brought promptly to the front when needed; they will also take steps to prevent the ambulances from interfering with the movements of any troops. sufficient guards and staff-officers will be detailed to carry out these orders. the ammunition-wagons will be in readiness to march to their respective brigades and batteries at a moment's warning, but will not cross the chickahominy until they are sent for. all quarter-masters and ordnance officers are to remain with their trains. "in the approaching battle the general commanding trusts that the troops will preserve the discipline which he has been so anxious to enforce, and which they have so generally observed. he calls upon all the officers and soldiers to obey promptly and intelligently all the orders they may receive; let them bear in mind that the army of the potomac has never yet been checked, and let them preserve in battle perfect coolness and confidence, the sure forerunners of success. they must keep well together, throw away no shots, but aim carefully and low, and, above all things, rely upon the bayonet. commanders of regiments are reminded of the great responsibility that rests upon them; upon their coolness, judgment and discretion, the destinies of their regiments and success of the day will depend." chapter xiii. our communications with the chickahominy--porter's successes--despatches to the president--his reply--hanover court house--terrible storm and flood--hopes of the enemy--a sudden and strong attack--i act as an orderly--through the flood--my return and report--joyful news--my own disaster--scenes in the old mill--waiting on the wounded--my sufferings by the roadside--a hard-hearted chaplain--a stumbling block. for several days the enemy had been concentrating a large force on the right flank of the federals, with the intention of cutting off their communications with the river. a portion of fitz john porter's corps was detailed to dispose of this force, and also to cut the virginia central, richmond and fredericksburg railroads. the communication was cut off, and after two severe engagements the enemy retreated, leaving behind them several hundred prisoners, their cannon and camp equipage. on the same day the following despatch was sent to the secretary of war by the commanding general: "camp near new bridge, may 28th. porter has gained two complete victories over superior forces; yet i feel obliged to move in the morning with reinforcements to secure the complete destruction of the rebels in that quarter. in doing so i run some risk here, but cannot help it. the enemy are even in greater force than i had supposed. i will do all that quick movements can accomplish, but you must send me all the troops you can, and leave me to full latitude as to choice of commanders. it is absolutely necessary to destroy the rebels near hanover court house before i can advance." to which the president replied: "i am very glad of general porter's victory. still, if it was a total rout of the enemy, i am puzzled to know why the richmond and fredericksburg railroad was not seized again, as you say you have all the railroads but the richmond and fredericksburg. i am painfully impressed with the importance of the struggle before you, and shall aid you all i can consistently with my view of due regard to other points." two days later mcclellan telegraphs again: "from the tone of your despatches i do not think that you appreciate the value and magnitude of porter's victory. it has entirely relieved my right flank, which was seriously threatened, it has routed and demoralized a considerable portion of the rebel forces, taken over seven hundred and fifty prisoners, killed and wounded large numbers; one gun, many small arms, and much baggage taken. it was one of the handsomest things in the war, both in itself and in its results. porter has returned, and my army is again well in hand. another day will make the probable field of battle passable for artillery. it is quite certain that there is nothing in front of mcdowell at fredericksburg. i regard the burning of south anne bridge as the least important result of porter's movement." the battle of hanover court house was certainly a splendid affair, and a very important victory to the army of the potomac. three days after this battle, while the army was divided by the river, a portion of the troops having crossed over the day before, a most fearful storm swept over the peninsula, accompanied with terrible exhibitions of lightning and explosions of thunder. the water came down all night and all day in perfect floods, completely inundating the valley through which the chickahominy flows, turning the narrow stream into a broad river, converting the swamps into lakes, and carrying away one bridge and rendering the other unsafe. and still the rain came pouring down in torrents, reminding one of that crisis in the world's history when "the fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened." had it not been for mcclellan's faith in the bible and in god's covenant with noah, he would no doubt have seriously contemplated building an ark, in order to save himself and his army from destruction. the rebels seemed to think this flood was sent as a judgment from the almighty upon their hated enemies, and was a direct interposition of providence in their behalf, which would enable them to visit wholesale destruction upon the yankees. on the thirtieth of may the enemy, taking advantage of this terrible state of things caused by the disastrous storm, came rushing down upon our troops in immense force. a battle opened at about one o'clock in the afternoon, and after three hours' desperate fighting, general casey's division, occupying the first line, was compelled to fall back in considerable disorder upon the second line, causing temporary confusion; but the rapid advance of generals heintzelman and kearney with their divisions soon checked the rebels. sumner, sedgwick, couch, keyes and the other commanders also labored valiantly to retrieve the injury effected by the unfortunate retirement of casey's command. the enemy, led by hill and longstreet, advanced in massive columns, with threefold lines, and came boldly on like an overwhelming wave, as if determined to crush all opposition by the suddenness and fierceness of the attack. total annihilation seemed to be their motto, and the determined and reckless daring of the fierce and bloodthirsty rebels in such overpowering numbers carried conviction to many loyal hearts that they would succeed in driving that devoted fragment of an army into the chickahominy, before it would be possible for reinforcements to arrive. at this time i was in military uniform, mounted upon my rebel horse, and was acting orderly for general k. several aides and orderlies had been sent with messages and despatches, but no reinforcement had yet arrived, and, taking a federal view of it, the picture presented a gloomy appearance. general k. reined in his horse abruptly, and taking from his pocket an envelope, he hastily wrote on the back of it with a pencil--"in the name of god bring your command to our relief, if you have to swim in order to get here--or we are lost." handing it to me he said--"go just as fast as that horse can carry you to general g., present this with my compliments, return immediately, and report to me." i put poor little "reb" over the road at the very top of his speed until he was nearly white with foam, then plunged him into the chickahominy and swam him across the river. i met general g. about a hundred rods from the river making the best of his way toward the bridge. engineers were at once set to work strengthening the crazy structure, which was swaying to and fro with the rushing tide. the eager, excited troops dashed into the water waist deep, and getting upon the floating planks went pouring over in massive columns. i preferred to swim my horse back again rather than risk myself upon such a bridge, for i looked every moment to see it give way and engulf the whole division in the turbid waters of the swollen creek. however, all reached the other side in safety, and started along the flooded road on the double quick. this was cheering news to carry back to general k., so i started again for the field in order to claim the reward of "him who bringeth good tidings." i found general k. in the thickest of the fight, encouraging his men and shouting his orders distinctly above the roar and din of battle. riding up to him and touching my hat, i reported--"just returned, sir. general g., with his command, will be here immediately." it was too good to keep to himself, so he turned to his men and shouted at the top of his voice--"reinforcements! reinforcements!" then swinging his hat in the air he perfectly electrified the whole line as far as his voice could reach, and the glorious word "reinforcements" was passed along until that almost exhausted line was reanimated and inspired with new hope. while i was thus watching with delight the effects of this joyful news upon the soldiers, my attention was directed to another object. general h., who had made himself conspicuous by his gallant conduct, was struck by a ball which shattered his arm badly. he was only a few rods from me, and there was none near to help him. i asked general k. if i might go to him, and after obtaining permission i rode up to him, leaped from my horse, and hitched him near by. i then removed the clothing from his arm, gave him some water, poured some on the wound, and went to my saddle-bags to get some bandages, when my rebel pony laid hold of my arm with his teeth and almost tore the flesh from the bone. not content with that, he turned his heels in an instant and kicked with both feet, sending me about a rod. my arm was now almost as bad as general h.'s, and i could do but little to help him, for in ten minutes it was swollen terribly, and i could not raise it to my head; finally i was ordered back to an old saw-mill about a mile and a half from the field, where were considerable quantities of quarter-masters' and commissary stores, with orders to have them removed further to the rear; and all who were able to come to the front, together with the surgeon and a portion of the hospital corps who had been left there in charge of the sick, were to lose no time in reporting themselves for duty on the field. [illustration: acting orderly.--page 178.] upon arriving at the old saw-mill i found it crowded with wounded men who had crawled there from the battle-field, to have their wounds dressed if possible, and if not to lie down and suffer where the shot and shell could not reach them. i delivered my orders. in a few moments more there was not a soul left to minister to those poor fellows who were huddled together in that mill by the score; all had gone to the front, and i was left there in a sad plight. i put my vicious little "reb" in a building near the mill, where there was plenty of hay and corn, but did not dare to unsaddle him. i then examined the extent of the injury done to my arm, and found it was worse than i had supposed. it was badly mangled by the horse's teeth, and in one place a large piece of flesh was torn from the arm and hung by small shreds. but the arm was not the worst; he had kicked me in the side, which had lamed and bruised me sadly. yet this was no time to groan over a slight kick from a horse, when so many lay around me with shattered limbs and ghastly saber wounds, some of them even now in the very agonies of death. so, resolutely saying to pain and lameness, "stay thou here while i go yonder," i bound up my arm in a sling, and set about removing the blood-clotted clothing from the wounds of those who needed it most; but having neither knife or scissors, i was obliged in many instances to use my teeth in order to tear the thick woolen garments stiffened and saturated with blood, the very remembrance of which now makes me feel rather uncomfortable in the gastric region; but then there was no unpleasant sensation. the next thing to be thought of was, how i could procure some bandages; but as to getting them from the saddle-bags, i would as soon have thought of bearding a lion in his den, as of tempting the jaws of that ferocious animal again. however, there were two houses within a mile, and i decided to try my fortune in that direction. first of all i went among the sick, who were left there by the surgeon, and inquired if there were any who were able to assist me in dressing wounds. yes, i found two; one a little mail-carrier, and the other a commissary sergeant, both of whom were scarcely able to stand alone. these two i set to work pouring cold water upon the wounded limbs occasionally, and giving the men water to drink until i returned. at the first house i went to they would not let me in at all, but raised the window and wished to know what was wanted. i told them, anything that would admit of tearing up for bandages. no, they had nothing of the kind, and closed the window again. i limped along to the next house. a man came to the door, holding it, to prevent my attempting to get in. the same question was asked, and a similar answer returned. by this time my patience and strength were both exhausted, and my mind was made up with regard to the course i should pursue. therefore, drawing both my pistols from my belt, i demanded some cotton, new or old--sheets, pillow-cases, or any other article which would answer the purpose for bandages. the man trembled from head to foot, and called his wife to know if she could let me have anything of the sort; yes, she could, if i would pay her for it; and of course i was willing to pay her; so she brought me an old sheet, a pair of pillow-cases, and three yards of new factory cotton cloth, for which she demanded five dollars. happening to have only three dollars in change, i told her i thought that would be sufficient; and so saying, i left immediately. i did not know, until i had proceeded some distance, that the blood was running from my arm in a perfect stream. in my excitement and determination, i had grasped one of my pistols with the lame hand and started those terrible gashes bleeding afresh. i grew faint and dizzy, and sat down by the road-side to gather a little strength before proceeding further. while i sat there i saw a horseman coming in the distance, but could not tell whether it was friend or foe, for it was growing dark. i waited until he came nearer, when i was rejoiced to see that it was a chaplain; not mr. b., but of course he was a good man, being a chaplain and a federal. so i felt that relief was at hand. but imagine my disappointment and chagrin when he came up and, priest-like, looked upon me, "and passed by on the other side." well, after all, i did not care so much for myself, but i thanked heaven that he had come on the poor men's account, for he would, no doubt, do much during the night to relieve their sufferings. taking courage, i made my way slowly toward the mill, where i found, on my arrival, the chaplain dismounted, coat off, and wisp in hand, rubbing and brushing every speck of mud from his horse. after performing this important duty, he then went to the nearest house, ordered supper, and after partaking of a warm meal, he returned to the mill. oh how glad i was that all these preliminaries were gone through with, for now he would at once enter upon the care of the wounded, and my heart ached for those two sick boys, who were still attending to the wants of such as they could assist, notwithstanding they required waiting upon themselves. the wounded were coming in faster than ever, and i was busy tearing up the cotton in strips, and trying to bind up some of the poor mangled limbs, the little sick sergeant being my right hand man. i looked around for the chaplain, but he was no where to be seen. i hobbled out to the building where i had seen him put his horse, to see if he had really gone away; no, he had not gone. there he lay on the floor, upon which was a quantity of hay, wrapped up in his blanket, apparently unconscious that there was any such thing as suffering in the world. oh how i wanted to go to him, quietly lay my hand on him, and say: "chaplain, will you be so kind as to take the saddle from my horse; it has been on since early morning, and i am not able to take it off." not that i cared particularly for having the saddle removed, but just for sake of having "reb" bring the chaplain to his senses, and give him a little shaking up, so that he might realize that these were war times, and that consequently it was out of the question for chaplains in the army, especially in time of battle, to be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease; while others fought to win the prize, and sailed through bloody seas. but instead of doing so, i sat down and wept bitter tears of disappointment and sorrow, and then, with a heavy heart and aching limbs, i returned again to the mill. all that weary night my heart burned with indignation, and i seemed endowed with supernatural powers of endurance, for when morning came and found me still at my post, without having tasted food for twenty-four hours, i felt stronger and fresher than i had done the day before. my two young sick friends had been persuaded to lie down, and were now fast asleep, side by side with the wounded. but where was the chaplain? what had become of him? he had escaped with the earliest dawn, without so much as inquiring whether the men were dead or alive. this was the conduct of a man who professed to be a faithful follower of him who went about doing good! this was a man whom i had reverenced and loved as a brother in christ. oh, what a stumbling-block that man was to my soul; for weeks and months satan took occasion to make this a severe temptation and trial to me. i was tempted to judge every christian by that unholy example, and to doubt the truth of every christian experience which i heard related from time to time. but, thank god, i had the example of my faithful friend, mr. b., to counterbalance this, and by god's grace i was enabled to rise above this temptation. my doubts were gradually removed, and my faith in christians re-established--but i never sufficiently recovered from my feelings of disgust towards that particular chaplain, to ever again be able to persuade myself to listen to a sermon delivered by him, or to attend any religious meeting at which he presided. i always looked upon him afterwards, as "one who had stolen the livery of heaven to serve the devil in;" a mere whited sepulchre, and unworthy the sacred name of a minister of the gospel. oh, may our sympathizing breasts that generous pleasure know; kindly to share in others' joy, and weep for others' woe. when poor and helpless sons of grief in deep distress are laid; soft be our hearts their pains to feel, and swift our hands to aid. on wings of love the saviour flew, to bless a ruined race; we would, o lord, thy steps pursue, thy bright example trace. chapter xiv. renewal of the battle--victory for the federal arms--address to the army--more despatches--my battle trophy--pony reb's performances--the hospital tree--touching scenes--bishop simpson--the cross and the flag--after the battle--delays by storms, floods and mud--mcclellan's call for more men--in readiness to march--promised reinforcements. night brought a cessation of hostilities to the weary troops, but to neither side a decided victory or defeat. both armies bivouaced on the bloody field, within a few rods of each other. there they lay waiting for the morning light to decide the contest. the excitement and din of battle had ceased; those brief hours of darkness proved a sweet respite from the fierce struggle of the day, and in the holy calm of that midnight hour, when silence brooded over the blood-washed plain, many brave soldiers lay down on that gory field- the weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. sunday, the first of june, dawned beautifully, a day of hallowed rest and promise to the millions who rose to their devotions, ere the bell called them to the house of prayer, but not of rest to the weary, broken armies the drum-beat called from their wet and muddy beds to renew the contest. at a quarter-past seven o'clock the battle again commenced, and raged fiercely until about noon. both armies fought with determination and heroic bravery until the rebels were compelled to yield, and victory once more perched upon the banners of the national troops. i came on the field about ten o'clock, and remained until the close of the battle, but could do little more than look upon the terrible scene. general mcclellan was on the field when i arrived. i saw him ride along the entire battle-front, and if i had not seen him, i could not have long remained in ignorance of his presence--for the cheers from all parts of the federal lines told as plainly as words could express that their beloved commander was with them, amid that desperate struggle for victory. it was a terrible slaughter--more than fifteen thousand lay upon the field. it was enough to make angels weep, to look down upon that field of carnage. the dead and wounded of the enemy fell into the hands of the unionists, which added fearfully to the labors of that exhausted, battle-worn army. on the evening of the third of june, general mcclellan issued the following address to his troops, which was read on dress parade, and was received with tremendous cheering: "soldiers of the army of the potomac! i have fulfilled at least a part of my promise to you. you are now face to face with the rebels, who are held at bay in front of their capital. the final and decisive battle is at hand. unless you belie your past history, the result cannot be for a moment doubtful. if the troops who labored so faithfully at yorktown, and fought so bravely, and won the hard fights at williamsburg, west point, hanover court-house and fair oaks, now prove themselves worthy of their antecedents, the victory is surely ours. the events of every day prove your superiority; wherever you have met the enemy, you have beaten him; wherever you have used the bayonet, he has given way in panic and disorder. "i ask of you, now, one last crowning effort. the enemy has staked his all on the issue of the coming battle. let us meet him, crush him here, in the very centre of the rebellion. soldiers! i will be with you in this battle, and share its dangers with you. our confidence in each other is now founded upon the past. let us strike the blow which is to restore peace and union to this distracted land. upon your valor, discipline and mutual confidence, the result depends." every battle fought on the peninsula fearfully reduced the strength of the army of the potomac, and proved to a demonstration that the enemy far outnumbered the union forces. still there were no reinforcements, notwithstanding mcclellan's daily urgent despatches to the president and secretary of war, and the great impending battle in front of the rebel capital so near at hand. the next day mcclellan sent another despatch, as follows: "please inform me at once what reinforcements, if any, i can count upon having at fortress monroe or white house, within the next three days, and when each regiment may be expected to arrive. it is of the utmost importance that i should know this immediately. the losses in the battle of the thirty-first and first will amount to seven thousand. regard this as confidential for the present. after the losses in our last battle, i trust that i shall no longer be regarded as an alarmist. i believe we have at least one more desperate battle to fight." the day after the battle of fair oaks, a splendid sword was presented to me. it had been struck from the hand of a rebel colonel, while in the act of raising it to strike one of our officers after he had fallen from his horse. oh, how proud i felt of that beautiful silver-mounted trophy, from the bloody field of fair oaks, which had so recently been wielded by a powerful arm, but powerless now, for he lay in the agonies of death, while his splendid sword had passed into my feeble hands. i presume if he had known this, it would have added another pang to his already agonized spirit. the sword was presented by general k., to whom i gave my rebel pony, with the comforting assurance that he was only intended for ornament, and not for use; for generals were too scarce on the peninsula to risk their precious lives by coming in contact with him. the general was delighted with him, and without paying the slightest attention to my suggestion deliberately walked up to the pony and commenced patting him and handling his limbs as if he were the most quiet creature in the world, while "reb" stood eyeing his new master with apparent satisfaction, and seemed to rejoice that he had passed from my insignificant hands, and was henceforth to be the honored bearer of shoulder-straps. after thoroughly examining him he said: "he is certainly a splendid horse, and worth three hundred dollars of any man's money; all he requires is kind treatment, and he will be as gentle as any one could desire." but "reb" very soon gave him to understand decidedly that he was overrating his good qualities; for no sooner had the general turned his back toward him than he struck him between the shoulders with both hind feet, sending him his full length upon the ground; and as soon as he attempted to rise he repeated the same performance until he had knocked him down four or five times in succession. by that time the general was pretty thoroughly convinced that "reb's" social qualities were somewhat deficient, his bump of combativeness largely developed, and his gymnastics quite impressive. on the evening of the same day in which the victory was won i visited what was then, and is still called, the "hospital tree," near fair oaks. it was an immense tree under whose shady, extended branches the wounded were carried and laid down to await the stimulant, the opiate, or the amputating knife, as the case might require. the ground around that tree for several acres in extent was literally drenched with human blood, and the men were laid so close together that there was no such thing as passing between them; but each one was removed in their turn as the surgeons could attend to them. i witnessed there some of the most heart-rending sights it is possible for the human mind to conceive. read what a massachusetts chaplain writes concerning it: "there is a large tree near the battle-ground of fair oaks, the top of which was used as an observatory during the fight, which stands as a memento of untold, and perhaps never to be told, suffering and sorrow. many of the wounded and dying were laid beneath its branches after the battle, in order to receive surgical help, or to breathe their last more quietly. what heart-rending scenes did i witness in that place, so full of saddened memories to me and to others. brave, uncomplaining men were brought thither out of the woodland, the crimson tide of whose life was ebbing away in the arms of those who carried them. almost all who died met death like heroes, with scarcely a groan. those wounded, but not mortally--how nobly they bore the necessary probings and needed amputations! two instances of this heroic fortitude deserve to be specially mentioned. one of them is that of william c. bentley, of the second rhode island regiment, both of whose legs were broken by a bomb-shell, whose wrist and breast were mangled, and who yet was as calm as if he suffered no pain. he refused any opiate or stimulant that might dim his consciousness. he asked only that we should pray for him, that he might be patient and submissive, and dictated a letter to be sent to his mother. then, and not till then, opiates were given him, and he fell gently asleep, and for the last time. "the other case was that of francis sweetzer, of company e, of the sixteenth massachusetts regiment, who witnessed in death, as he had uniformly done in life, a good confession of christ. 'thank god,' he said, 'that i am permitted to die for my country. thank god more yet that i am prepared to die;' and then after a moment's thought he modestly added, 'at least i hope i am.' when he died he was in the act of prayer, and in that position his limbs grew rigid, and so remained after the spirit had left his body." oh, who that has witnessed such triumphant deaths on the battle-field will presume to doubt that the spirit of that patriot who falls amid the terrible clash of arms and the fierce surge of battle, is prepared to go from that scene of blood and strife, and to enter into that rest that god has prepared for them that love him? yes, the noble men who have gone from under the sheltering wings of the different evangelical churches throughout the land, have gone in the strength of god, and with the full assurance that if they should fall fighting for the god-given rights of humanity, there, amid the shock of battle, the still, small voice of jesus would be heard speaking peace to the departing soul, and that their triumphant spirits would go home rejoicing to be forever with the lord! when i see a man first lay himself upon the altar of god, and then upon the altar of his country, i have no fear for that man's happiness in time or in eternity. good bishop simpson, of the methodist episcopal church, soon after the outbreak of the great rebellion, delivered a sermon on the national crisis, at chicago. it is represented as one of the ablest efforts of this clergyman, so distinguished for his power in the pulpit. as it was one of the anniversaries of the denomination, thousands were present to hear the discourse. suddenly, at one point in the sermon, and as the fitting close of a most impassioned paragraph, he gave utterance to the following noble sentiment: "we will take our glorious flag, the flag of our country, and nail it just below the cross! that is high enough. there let it wave as it waved of old. around it let us gather: first christ's; then our country's." oh, that the sentiments of the following beautiful lines were the sentiments of every heart in the united states: o lord of hosts! almighty king! behold the sacrifice we bring! to every arm thy strength impart, thy spirit shed through every heart! wake in our breasts the living fires, the holy faith that warmed our sires; thy hand hath made our nation free; to die for her is serving thee. be thou a pillar'd flame to show the midnight snare, the silent foe, and when the battle thunders loud, still guide us in its moving cloud. god of all nations! sovereign lord! in thy dread name we draw the sword, we lift the starry flag on high that fills with light our stormy sky. no more its flaming emblems wave to bar from hope the trembling slave; no more its radiant glories shine to blast with woe one child of thine! from treason's rent, from murderer's stain, guard thou its folds till peace shall reign, till fort and field, till shore and sea, join our loud anthem, praise to thee! i cannot better describe the state of affairs after the battle of fair oaks than by giving the following despatch from mcclellan, dated june 7th: "in reply to your despatch of 2 p. m. to-day, i have the honor to state that the chickahominy river has risen so as to flood the entire bottoms to the depth of three or four feet; i am pushing forward the bridges in spite of this, and the men are working night and day, up to their waists in water, to complete them. the whole face of the country is a perfect bog, entirely impassable for artillery, or even cavalry, except directly in the narrow roads, which renders any general movement, either of this or the rebel army, entirely out of the question until we have more favorable weather. i am glad to learn that you are pressing forward reinforcements so vigorously. i shall be in perfect readiness to move forward and take richmond the moment mccall reaches here and the ground will admit the passage of artillery. i have advanced my pickets about a mile to-day, driving off the rebel pickets and securing a very advantageous position. the rebels have several batteries established, commanding the debouches from two of our bridges, and fire upon our working parties continually; but as yet they have killed but few of our men." again, june 10th, he says: "i am completely checked by the weather. the roads and fields are literally impassable for artillery--almost so for infantry. the chickahominy is in a dreadful state. we have another rain storm on our hands. i wish to be distinctly understood that whenever the weather permits i will attack with whatever force i may have, although a larger force would enable me to gain much more decisive results. i would be glad to have mccall's infantry sent forward by water at once, without waiting for his artillery and cavalry." the next day the secretary of war replied: "your despatch of 3.30 p. m. yesterday has been received. i am fully impressed with the difficulties mentioned, and which no art or skill can avoid, but only endure. be assured, general, that there never has been a moment when my desire has been otherwise than to aid you with my whole heart, mind and strength, since the hour we first met; and whatever others may say for their own purposes, you never have had, and never can have, any one more truly your friend, or more anxious to support you, or more joyful than i shall be at the success which i have no doubt will soon be achieved by your arms." the above despatch has the appearance of the genuine article--but i am inclined to think it a clever counterfeit. while mcclellan's requests were cheerfully complied with, as far as promises were concerned, little was done to strengthen his weakened forces in view of the coming struggle with an overwhelming force in front, and the flooded chickahominy in the rear. by unreliable promises he was filled with delusive hopes, and lead on to more certain destruction--to disaster and failure, at least. chapter xv. leave of absence--visit to the williamsburg hospitals--effective preaching--yorktown revisited--longings--white house landing--tired of idleness--preparations to return to duty--stuart's cavalry raid--a train fired into--fair oaks grove--the strength of the enemy--trying times on the peninsula--the endurance of our soldiers--labors of mr. alvord. while preparations were going on for the great battle in front of richmond, i obtained leave of absence for a week, and recruited my shattered health, lame side and arm. mr. and mrs. b. were both gone home on furlough, and nellie was at the williamsburg hospital. i thought i should like to visit the different hospitals, while i was thus riding round from place to place in search of something of interest. i visited williamsburg hospitals, both union and rebel, and found many things amusing and interesting. nellie was delighted to see me, and told me much of her experience since the battle of williamsburg. her hand was still in a sling, which reminded me of my first shot at a rebel female. she was a most faithful nurse, and had endeared herself to all the boys by her kindness and patience toward them. she introduced me to several of her favorites, calling each by some pet name, to which they seemed to answer as a matter of course. i spent a day and a night there, and attended a meeting in the evening, which was held by a minister from the christian commission for the benefit of the wounded soldiers. oh, what a sermon was that! the tender mercies of the father, the love of the son of god, were described; the wailings of the lost and the raptures of the redeemed were portrayed in the most powerful and touching manner. i have never heard the sinner invited to the cross in more persuasive strains than flowed from his lips. his countenance was pleasing, his manners courteous, and his deportment unassuming. he did not preach one of those high-toned, intellectual discourses which we so often hear, and which almost invariably fail to reach the heart. but he preached christ with such winning simplicity, such forgetfulness of self, and with such an eager yearning after souls, that even the most depraved were melted to tears. how soul-refreshing is this simple mode of preaching! i seem to see him standing before me now, with uplifted hands, glowing cheeks and streaming eyes--and though i have forgotten much of the discourse, yet i can distinctly remember the impression which it made upon me then. it was good, humbling, purifying. he was evidently not a highly educated man, yet he proclaimed the unsearchable riches of christ in such a way as to make the proudest eloquence and the most profound philosophy, seem in comparison, "like sounding brass or tinkling cymbal." often, when hearing a certain class of ministers preach, i am reminded of the saying of a good baptist clergyman with regard to a. and b., two ministers of his own denomination: "when i hear brother a. preach, i am in love with the man; but when i hear brother b. preach, i am in love with jesus." this is the kind of preaching we want--that which makes us fall in love with jesus, instead of the preacher. oh, that there were more of christ, and less of self, preached. after leaving williamsburg, i kept on down the peninsula until i came to yorktown. after visiting the hospitals there, i then went to the old camp where i had spent so many weeks. there were the dear old familiar places, but all that gave them interest were gone now. the old saw-mill, too, was gone, and all that remained was a heap of ruins, to tell where it once stood. but there was a spot undisturbed, away in the corner of the peach orchard, under an isolated pear tree, a heaped up mound, underneath which rested the noble form of lieutenant v. it was sweet to me to visit this spot once more. i knew that in all probability it would be the last time; at least for a long period, perhaps forever. when this frail body shall be done with earth, and this heart shall be free from care; when my spirit enters that other world, oh, say, shall i know thee there? when the last hours of life are closing around and death's summons cometh to me; will god send an angel messenger down? shall i know the bright spirit as thee? rest weary heart, rest patient and wait, till thy happiness cometh to thee; thou'lt meet and thou'lt know when thou gainest that shore which opes to eternity. from yorktown i went to the white house landing, where everything looked neat, orderly, peaceful and happy, as a quiet little country village. the grounds were laid out in broad streets and squares, which were swept clean as a floor, and there were long rows of snow-white tents, with their neatly printed cotton sign-boards, "to guide the traveler on his way" to the different head-quarters, provost marshal, hospital, sutlers, blacksmith, etc. after spending a day there, and beginning to feel tired of idleness, i made up my mind to return to camp again. so going to colonel ingalls, i procured transportation for myself and horse, and stepping aboard of a provision train destined for fair oaks station, i anticipated a pleasant ride; but, as usual, was blessed with quite a little adventure before i reached my destination. the train started, and, after steaming over the road for some time at its usual rate, had reached the vicinity of tunstall's station, when we heard the down train whistle, and immediately after a sharp volley of musketry was fired in the same direction. the engineer switched off the track, and awaited the other train. it came thundering on as if the engineer was possessed by the _sauve qui peut_ spirit, and, as it passed, the wildest confusion was visible on board, and the groans of the wounded could be heard above the screaming of the engine. on it went, like a streak of lightning, signaling for our train to follow. there was no time to be lost; our train was immediately in hot pursuit of the other, and both were soon at the white house. among those i saw taken from the cars wounded, was the spy whom i had met in the rebel camp in front of yorktown, and heard haranguing his fellow countryman upon the important service he had rendered the confederate government, and confessing himself to be the cause of lieutenant's v's death. everything was thrown into wild confusion by the arrival of the trains and the news of the attack. the troops at the white house were immediately called out under arms to protect the depot. all this excitement had been produced by a detachment of stuart's cavalry, consisting of about fifteen hundred men, and which resulted in the slight disaster to the train; the burning of two schooners laden with forage, and fourteen government wagons; the destruction of some sutler's stores; the killing of several of the guard and teamsters; some damage done to tunstall's station; and the tearing up of a portion of the railroad. there was but little damage done to the train, considering that there were three hundred passengers. some military officers of high rank were on board, who would have been a rich prize for the rebels if they had succeeded in capturing the train; but it had eluded their grasp by the admirable conduct and presence of mind of the engineer, who crowded on all possible steam, and escaped with his freight of human life with only a loss of fourteen in killed and wounded. as soon as the wounded were taken care of i visited the provost marshal, and made known the fact that there was among the wounded a rebel spy who required immediate attention. he sent a guard with me, who searched his person and found satisfactory proof that my statement was correct. he was only slightly wounded, and by the time the railroad was repaired he was able to bear the fatigue of a journey to headquarters, and i returned to camp. on the twenty-fifth of june the battle of fair oaks grove was fought. hooker's command had been ordered to occupy a new and important position, when they were suddenly attacked while passing through a dense thicket and almost impassable swamp. the foe was gradually pushed back until he was obliged to seek safety behind his rifle-pits. about noon general mcclellan, who had remained at headquarters to communicate with the left wing, rode upon the field and, to the joy of his soldiers, ordered them again to advance. the order was cheerfully obeyed, and after renewed desperate fighting, at sunset the day was won by the federal arms. at this time it was not necessary for me to use any stratagem in order to visit the rebel encampment, for all that was necessary to be known of the rebel force and movements had been already ascertained. consequently i was quietly awaiting further developments, and while waiting was trying to make myself generally useful in the hospitals. a singular case came under my notice there: that of a man being stunned by the near approach of a cannon-ball. it did not come in contact with even his clothing, and yet he was knocked down senseless, and for several days he could neither hear nor speak. i think the most trying time that the army of the potomac ever had on the peninsula was in front of richmond, just before the seven days' battle--that is to say, if anything could be worse than the seven day's battle itself. a heavy and almost incessant firing was kept up day and night, along the entire left wing, and the men were kept in those rifle pits, (to say in water to the knees is a very moderate estimate), day after day, until they looked like fit subjects for the hospital or lunatic asylum, and those troops in camp who were not supposed to be on duty, but were kept in reserve, were often called out ten times in one night. the firing would become so alarmingly hot that it was supposed a general engagement was at hand; but on going out to the front, perhaps it would cease for a moment, then they would be ordered back to camp again. in that manner i have known the entire force to be kept in motion almost all night, and sleep for any one was a thing out of the question. it soon became evident that there was some movement on foot which was not understood by the great mass of the army, and i have no doubt it was a good thing that the troops did not even imagine that a retreat was already being planned by their commander. the men endured all these hardships most uncomplainingly; yes, cheerfully; and every day was supposed to be the last ere they would walk the streets of richmond triumphantly, and thus reap the fruits of their summer's campaign. the constant fire kept up along the entire line, and the frequent charges made upon rifle-pits, rapidly increased the numbers in the hospital, and kept the surgeons and nurses busy night and day, and then they could not attend to all who required assistance. just at this particular juncture i remember the timely aid afforded by the members of the christian commission and tract society. they brought relief not only in one sense, but in many. spiritual food for the hungry, dying soldier--consolation for the worn out and discouraged--delicacies for the sick and feeble--warm-gushing heart sympathy for the suffering, and actual assistance with their own hands in cases of amputations, and the removal of the sick from one place to another. rev. mr. alvord gives a very modest account of the services which he rendered, when he says: "i went to the hospitals, where i worked hour after hour with the surgeons. men were brought in with all sorts of wounds. surgeons were scarce and were engaged in amputations, so you know i could attend to minor matters. where the bullet had gone through body or limb, i could dress it perhaps as well as any one; also, all sorts of flesh wounds. i cannot tell you of the variety of operations i performed. the wounds had been stiffening since the day before, not having been dressed. i enjoyed the work, as in every case such relief was given. then i could carry water to the thirsty, and speak words of comfort to the dying; for, as you may suppose, there were many in this state." again he says: "just now, by my side, lies a philadelphia zouave, a fine boy to whom i have been ministering. i gave him some hot tea, with the charming crackers mr. broughton sent; he is now sitting up, looking more cheerful. i mention this in detail, that you may have a specimen of the work which occupies one every moment through the day and night, who is able or willing to work in this department. on the other side of me, as i write here on my knees, lies a colored boy, haggard and sick, to whom i have given medicine and similar food. his dark face is full of gratitude." many an hour i have worked and watched in hospitals by the side of mr. alvord, and marked his cheerful christian spirit and warm sympathies for the sufferers. and often, on a march, i have gone to him, and asked if he would let some weary sick soldier ride in his carriage, who had fallen out by the way--and my request was never refused, although to do so he would sometimes have to walk through the mud himself, his horse being frequently heavily loaded. i have also distributed publications for him, and have stood by the cot of many a dying soldier where he has ministered consolation to the departing spirit. he is one of those who will have many stars in his crown of rejoicing when eternity unfolds the results of his faithful labors. chapter xvi. change of base across the peninsula--evacuation of white house--the movement--battle of mechanicsville--gaines' mill--a repulse--mcclellan's despatch--hospitals in danger--convalescent officers--lending my horse--a lottery--inspecting farm stock--catching a colt--danger of capture--riding for life--between two fires. the employment of general mcdowell's force in the defense of washington, and its failure to co-operate by land with mcclellan, necessitated on the part of the army of the potomac an immediate change of base across the peninsula. such a change in the face of a powerful enemy is considered one of the most hazardous undertakings in war. but mcclellan had no doubt of the ability of his army to fight its way, even against superior numbers, through to the james river, and thus secure a new position for an advance against richmond. the entire energy of the army was now directed to this object. a despatch was sent by general van vliet, chief quartermaster of the army of the potomac, to colonel ingalls, quartermaster at white house, as follows: "run the cars to the last moment, and load them with provision and ammunition. load every wagon you have with subsistence, and send them to savage's station, by way of bottom's bridge. if you are obliged to abandon white house, burn everything that you cannot get off. you must throw all our supplies up the james river as soon as possible, and accompany them yourself with all your force. it will be of vast importance to establish our depots on james river, without delay, if we abandon white house. i will keep you advised of every movement so long as the wires work; after that you must exercise your own judgment." all these commands were obeyed. so excellent were the dispositions of the different officers in command of the troops, depots and gunboats, and so thorough was the warning of the approach of the enemy, that almost everything was saved, and but a small amount of stores was destroyed to prevent them from falling into the hands of the enemy. general stoneman's communications with the main army being cut off, he fell back upon white house station, thence to yorktown, when white house was evacuated. on the twenty-sixth instant orders were sent to all the corps commanders on the right bank of the chickahominy to be prepared to send as many troops as they could spare on the following day to the left bank of the river. general franklin received instructions to hold general slocum's division in readiness by daybreak on the twenty-seventh, and if heavy firing should at that time be heard in the direction of general porter, to move at once to his assistance without further orders. at noon, on the twenty-sixth, the approach of the enemy, who had crossed above meadow bridge, was discovered by the advanced pickets at that point, and at half-past twelve in the afternoon they were attacked and driven in. all the pickets were now called in, and the regiment and battery at mechanicsville were withdrawn. about three o'clock in the afternoon the enemy formed his line of battle, and came down upon our troops like a torrent--attacking the entire line. mcclellan, anticipating a fierce onset, was prepared for such an event, and gave him a warm reception. our artillery occupied positions commanding all the roads and open ground. timber had been felled, rifle-pits dug, and the infantry were under cover of the thick woods. all remained quiet until the rebel mass came rushing on--yelling as they came--within a short distance of our line, when every battery and division opened simultaneously a most destructive fire, which drove the enemy back with tremendous slaughter. several other attacks were made on our lines during the afternoon, which proved disastrous to the enemy. at nine o'clock in the evening the firing ceased, the action having lasted six hours. during the night the heavy siege guns and wagons were removed to the right bank of the chickahominy, and most of the troops withdrawn, unknown to the enemy. about noon the next day another general engagement came on, and after seven hours hard fighting the left flank of the federal line was turned, and they were driven from their position. general mcclellan says: "about seven o'clock in the evening they threw fresh troops against general porter with still greater fury, and finally gained the woods held by our left. this reverse, aided by the confusion that followed an unsuccessful charge by five companies of the fifth cavalry, and followed as it was by more determined assaults on the remainder of our lines, now outflanked, caused a general retreat from our position to the hill in rear overlooking the bridge. french's and meagher's brigades now appeared, driving before them the stragglers who were thronging toward the bridge. these brigades advanced boldly to the front, and by their example, as well as by the steadiness of their bearing, reanimated our troops and warned the enemy that reinforcements had arrived. it was now dusk. the enemy, already repulsed several times with terrible slaughter, and hearing the shouts of the fresh troops, failed to follow up their advantage. this gave an opportunity to rally our men behind the brigades of generals french and meagher, and they again advanced up the hill, ready to repulse another attack. during the night our thinned and exhausted regiments were all withdrawn in safety, and by the following morning all had reached the other side of the stream." a despatch from general mcclellan to secretary stanton, on the twenty-eighth, tells a sad story, a part of which i quote: "had i twenty thousand, or even ten thousand fresh troops to use to-morrow, i could take richmond; but i have not a man in reserve, and shall be glad to cover my retreat, and save the material and _personnel_ of the army. if we have lost the day, we have yet preserved our honor, and no one need blush for the army of the potomac. i have lost this battle because my force was too small. i again repeat that i am not responsible for this, and i say it with the earnestness of a general who feels in his heart the loss of every brave man who has been needlessly sacrificed to-day. "in addition to what i have already said, i only wish to say to the president that i think he is wrong in regarding me as ungenerous, when i said that my force was too weak. i merely intimated a truth which to-day has been too plainly proved. if, at this instant, i could dispose of ten thousand fresh men, i could gain the victory to-morrow. i know that a few thousand more men would have changed this defeat to a victory. as it is, the government must not and cannot hold me responsible for the result. "i feel too earnestly to-night. i have seen too many dead and wounded comrades to feel otherwise than that the government has not sustained this army. if you do not do so now, the game is lost. if i save this army now, i tell you plainly that i owe no thanks to you, or to any other persons in washington. you have done your best to sacrifice this army." while the battle of gaines' mill was in progress, i was despatched to several hospitals remote from the direct line of communication, with orders to the surgeons, nurses, and such of the patients as could walk, to take care of themselves as best they could, for no ambulances could reach them; that the army was retreating to the james river, and if they remained longer they would fall into the hands of the enemy. at one of the hospitals, about eight miles distant, i found a captain and three lieutenants with whom i was acquainted. they were just recovering from fever and unable to endure much fatigue, but could probably reach the james river if they should try. i was beset on every side to give up my horse to one and to another of them until i knew not what to say or do. i did not feel unwilling to give my horse to assist them in escaping from the rebels, and walk all the way myself, but i knew i was expected to return immediately and report to the officer in command of the ambulance corps, and undoubtedly would be required to perform other missions during the day. but all such excuses as these were thrown into the shade by the powerful oratory of the convalescent captain, who poured forth a vehement torrent of overwhelming arguments which would have made a less experienced messenger believe that the horse was for the captain individually, had been sent for his especial benefit, and was consequently entirely at his disposal. his eloquence had not quite this effect upon me, notwithstanding i decided to give up my horse and to take the consequences. i did not feel so particularly drawn toward captain a. as to let him have the horse entirely to himself, and to leave the other three poor fellows to live or die. upon coming to the conclusion, after mature deliberation, to part with my faithful horse, the same one i rode on the bull run battle-field, i informed those officers of my intention. but, said i, not for the benefit of any one of you in particular, but for the mutual benefit of all four; then i proceeded to make arrangements that two of them should ride alternately, and not faster than the other two could walk. then i took two slips of paper and told them to cast lots to see who should ride first. after they had drawn the lots to settle this matter, and the poor captain was doomed to foot it the first part of the journey, and i saw that he looked rather maliciously at me, as much as to say that i had assisted fate in deciding that he should walk instead of ride, the thought struck me that there would probably be some trouble when it came his turn to ride. so i delivered the following brief lecture, which was especially intended for his ear: "gentlemen, you are aware that by giving you my horse i am running the risk of incurring major n.'s displeasure, and am exposing myself to the very danger from which i am assisting you to escape. now, in return, i make one request of you, that is that you all do as you have agreed to; don't play false one with the other. those who ride are not to go faster than the others can walk, and you are to ride equal distances as near as you may be able to judge, unless otherwise arranged among yourselves. the horse you are to have taken care of when you arrive at your destination. i trust these matters to your honor, but if honor should forget to assert its rights, the case will be reported at headquarters." there were several others in the same hospital, but some were unconscious of the state of affairs around them; others were conscious, but unable to help themselves in the least. one of the noble hearted nurses refused to leave those helpless men, whom he had taken care of so long, and was taken prisoner. i marked that noble boy's countenance, dress and general appearance, and by making inquiry afterwards i found out that his name was j. robbins, of the second michigan regiment, and after he had undergone the hardships of imprisonment and had been exchanged, i had the honor of meeting and congratulating him, i felt that it was a greater honor than to converse with many of our major generals. as i turned to retrace my steps i began to think over the lottery business, and wondered if i had not introduced a species of gambling into my charitable deed. i did not feel clear on this point until i thought of reading in the bible something about casting lots. yes, it must be right, for there were instances of it in the bible. i tried to remember an instance to find out in what connection i had read it, but my mind was quite confused, and it required some time to recall one of those passages. after a while, however, i thought of the one where the roman soldiers cast lots for the vestments of the saviour, but this text did not bring much comfort to my mind; i was somehow reminded of the woman who had named her child beelzebub because it was a scripture name, and i concluded to leave the further discussion of the subject until a more convenient season. i remembered now of having noticed a farm house when i came that way in the mornings around which were a number of horses, mules, or something of that sort, and i thought it would be well to investigate the matter. moving along in that direction as fast as possible, i soon came to the house and saw the animals there, feeding as before. whatever i intended to do must be done quickly, for the near approach of the cannonading warned me that the army was fast retreating and i would soon be cut off from the james river road. i went at once to examine the stock on the farm for the purpose of ascertaining whether there was anything worth appropriating. there were four splendid mules and a colt, but whether the colt was a two year old or ten i could not tell, for it was very small and very handsome, looking much like an indian pony, and it might be a dozen years old. but the all absorbing questions in my mind were how was i going to secure this colt, and if i should catch him what was i going to do with him, having neither saddle nor bridle? i went to the barn, looked around and found an old halter that, for want of something better, would be of service. now was the time to catch the colt, but this was easier said than done, for upon going towards it i found that it was about as wild as a young buffalo. not discouraged, however, i started it, together with the mules, in the direction of the barn, and opened a door leading into a long shed connected with the barn. this plan succeeded admirably, for they all ran into the shed without the least trouble. but the greatest difficulty was to put the halter on the colt and get on his back; however, i at length succeed, and, mounting it, started toward james river. the enemy had by this time succeeded in driving the federals from their first position, and were now between them and me. turning off from the main road, i struck out into the woods and rode as fast as possible. the woods were open and clear so that i could see a long way ahead. on i went until i came near a little thicket so dense that i could not see anything beyond its border. not daring to go into any place which looked suspicious, i turned to go round it, when my ear caught the click, click of a dozen rifles, and a shower of minnie balls came round me thick as hailstones, but not one of them pierced even my clothing. my colt took fright at this unexpected salute, and plunged into the woods in another direction with the speed of lightning. [illustration: riding for life.--page 217.] i soon came to an open field and saw in the distance a large number of soldiers. one glance convinced me that they were federals, for they wore united states uniform. bounding over the field in an instant i had come within a hundred yards of them before i noticed that they were prisoners, guarded by a band of rebels. the first thing that caused me to discover this fact was one of the prisoners waving his hand for me to go in another direction, upon seeing which one of the rebel guards sprang forward and struck the prisoner with the butt of his musket. this little demonstration revealed to me at once my position, and turning i fled in the direction indicated by the prisoner, when another volley followed me which proved as harmless as the first. i began now to think that i was about as safe inside the rebel lines as anywhere, for their bullets seemed quite harmless so far as i was personally concerned. i remembered that when i was a child, i heard my mother once tell a scotch presbyterian clergyman she was afraid i would meet with some violent death, for i was always in some unheard of mischief, such as riding the wildest colt on the farm, firing off my father's shot-gun, and climbing to the highest point of the buildings. to which the good old predestinarian replied: "ah weel, my guid woman, dinna fret; it is an auld saying, an' i believe a true one, 'a wean that's born to be hung 'ill ne'er be droon'd.'" then turning to me and laying his hand on my head, he said: "but, me wee lassie, ye mauna tempt providence wi' your madcap antics, or ye may no live oot half your days." i did not know after all but that the fates were reserving me for a more exalted death on the scaffold at richmond--for the old minister's words would occasionally ring in my ears: "if the wean is born to be hung it will ne'er be droon'd"--and, i added, or be shot either. i was now outside of the rebel lines, but i was just between two fires, and tremendous hot ones at that, for the whole lines were a perfect blaze both of musketry and artillery. nothing but the power of the almighty could have shielded me from such a storm of shot and shell, and brought me through unscathed. it seems to me now that it was almost as much of a miracle as that of the three hebrew children coming forth from the fiery furnace without even the smell of fire upon them. chapter xvii. withdrawal to malvern hill--the soldier's last watch--trowbridge's grave--scenes in a hospital--capture of the wounded--a noble surgeon--line of battle--hard fighting--the enemy repulsed--hunting for food--in a farm-house--perilous position--securing the spoils--relief of the famishing--sublime scene--on the march--general keyes--gun-boats--arrival at harrison's landing--sad condition of troops--our losses--mcclellan's address to the army. when i reached the main army the troops had gained a new position, and were driving the enemy back. the troops were well nigh exhausted, yet fighting bravely and determinedly. night came and put an end to that day's battle, but instead of spending the night in taking care of our poor wounded men, we were obliged to retreat, under cover of darkness, to malvern hill, and leave our wounded in the hands of the enemy. of the many who died from exhaustion, as well as wounds, during our retreat from the vicinity of richmond, i know of none more worthy of record than that of a young man of my acquaintance who died on the field the night after this battle. he was not wounded, but died at his post from sheer exhaustion. in the course of the evening, i had seen and offered him some brandy from my flask, which i had for the wounded. he was then scarcely able to stand on his feet, yet he refused to take the brandy, saying, "that others needed it more than he did; and besides," said he, "i never take any intoxicating liquor under any circumstances." a notice of his death by an eye-witness, given under the heading, "the soldier's last watch," says: "a lonely grave, a little apart from others, stands on the ground of one of the battles fought in the retreat from richmond, in the summer of 1862, which bears on its wooden head-board simply the name, trowbridge. "the turf covers the remains of a youthful soldier who was not only brave and patient, but exemplary as a christian. those battles renewed from day to day, and attended by so many hardships, destroyed many lives, in addition to those lost in conflict with the enemy. hundreds and thousands of our gallant men, worn out by marches, fighting, hunger, and loss of sleep, became discouraged, and either recklessly threw themselves into the jaws of death, or fell into the hands of the enemy, because they were unable to keep up with their more robust, though not braver companions. "the circumstances of the death of one of these silent martyrs to their country were taken down from the lips of a soldier who was with him in his last hours. it is all that may be known, save to a few bleeding hearts, of one who, alas! like so many others, sleeps in that saddest of all places, a battle-field. the worn-out soldier, the day before his death, said to his lieutenant, 'i am so weak and helpless, i do not know what i can do further.' he was told to lie down, and get what rest he could on the battle-field. about ten at night, said his companion, as we were talking together, an officer of the company came up, and told us we should retreat at two o'clock in the morning. he ordered us to stand guard till then, two hours each in turn. we took straws, and drew lots to decide who should stand first. the lot fell on trowbridge. i threw myself on the ground, under a tree, with my blanket drawn over me, and was soon fast asleep. at twelve i was aroused, but said, 'you must be mistaken; it cannot be five minutes since i lay down.' we had been ordered not to speak aloud, or to have a light; and he replied in a whisper, 'feel the hands of my watch--it is twelve.' "i took his place, and he was soon asleep, or seemed to be. at half-past one o'clock the order came to move. i went to awake trowbridge, but had no answer, except that he groaned heavily once and again. i tried to soothe him, and awake him gently, but he turned aside his head, groaned once more, and was gone. i struck a match, and looked upon his features; they were set, and ghastly in death. i placed his hand on my cheek, and asked him if he was still conscious to press it. there was no response; life was evidently extinct. "i made an attempt to find the surgeon, or chaplain, but they had both gone forward with the army. so i searched his pockets, and taking from them six dollars for his mother, and a letter directed to himself, i replaced the envelope, that his name, at least, might be known to those who should find the body. several days after this, i was one of the number detailed to go back to that spot and bury the dead. on searching near the place where trowbridge died, i found a grave with a wooden tablet, bearing his name. not far distant was a house at which i called, and asked the inmates if they knew anything of that grave. the woman of the family then brought forward an envelope, (the very one that i had replaced), and said they had buried a soldier there, from whose pocket it was taken. it was a relief to know what had become of the body. of course i wrote to his mother, sending the money, and giving an account of her son's last moments, and his burial." this is only a solitary instance of the bravery and faithfulness of the men who fought those terrible battles, day after day, many of whom died with their muskets in their hands, and without receiving a wound, died from hunger, thirst, and fatigue. there was a farm-house near the battle-field, to which the wounded were carried, and the surgeons of the union army made it their headquarters during the battle. i will not attempt to describe the scenes which i witnessed in that building, for it beggars all description. the poor fellows seemed to know that they could not be removed, and would inevitably fall into the hands of the enemy. one man asked a surgeon, who had just performed an operation on one of his arms, "doctor, is there no alternative--must i be taken prisoner?" the doctor was only a boy in appearance, a little scotchman, and as noble-hearted a man as ever amputated a limb. he replied, in broad scotch, "no, my man, there is no alternative; but keep up a good heart, i am not going to leave you, i shall be a prisoner for your sakes, and will take care of you as long as i can." he did so, and was really taken prisoner, but was not permitted to do much for those for whom he had made such a noble sacrifice. he was doctor cleland, of detroit, michigan. when the order was given to retreat that night, i started with my colt, having a good saddle and bridle on him now, which i had taken off a dead horse on the battle-field, and reached malvern hill about two o'clock in the morning. after hitching my horse, and unstrapping a small bag of oats and my blanket from the saddle, i fed him, and proceeded to take a glance around, to see how things looked. the artillery was already in position, and the weary troops were in line of battle, but flat on the ground and fast asleep--all except the guards, who were pacing backward and forward in front of the line, ready to arouse the sleepers at any moment. feeling safe to consign myself to the arms of morpheus after this reconnoissance, i returned, wrapped myself in my blanket, and slept until the thundering of cannon awoke me in the morning. malvern hill is an elevated plateau, about a mile and a half by three-fourths of a mile in area, nearly cleared of timber, and with several converging roads running over it. in front there are numerous ravines. the ground slopes gradually toward the northeast to the wooded plain beyond, giving clear ranges for artillery in different directions. the batteries were advantageously posted on those hills, while the reserve troops were sheltered as much as possible by the ravines. the artillery of the reserve was placed in position so as to bring the concentrated fire of sixty guns to bear upon the enemy's front and left, approaching from richmond or white oak swamp. the brave colonel tyler, first connecticut, with great exertion succeeded in getting ten of his siege guns in position on the highest point of the hill; the men having to haul many of them up by hand. commodore rodgers, commanding the flotilla on james river, placed his gun-boats in position to protect the left flank and to command the approaches from richmond. the battle commenced about nine o'clock in the morning, and raged all day with terrible fury. at three in the afternoon the enemy attacked our right and center with tremendous force both of artillery and infantry. the artillery was replied to with good effect, but our infantry lay upon the ground and withheld their fire until the advancing column was within short musket range, when they sprang to their feet and poured in a deadly volley which entirely broke the attacking force, and drove the rebels back some eight hundred yards in great confusion. the battle raged most furiously hour after hour, the enemy advancing in massive column, often without order, but with perfect recklessness; and the concentrated fire of our gun-boats, batteries and infantry mowing down the advancing host in a most fearful manner, until the slain lay in heaps upon the field. at four o'clock the firing ceased along the rebel line, and it was supposed the battle was over; but it proved only a calm before a more terrible storm. at six o'clock the enemy suddenly opened upon the left of our line with the whole strength of his artillery, and fiercely pushed forward his column of attack to carry the hill. his infantry in immense force formed under cover of the woods, and starting on a run across the open space, charging almost up to the muzzle of the guns of our advance batteries, came rushing on with yells and imprecations--but in a moment the whole hill was one blaze of light--those terrible siege guns had belched forth a murderous fire, and a simultaneous volley from the gun boats, infantry and numerous batteries, sent the enemy reeling back to shelter, leaving the ground covered with their dead and wounded. then our men dashed forward with the bayonet, with wild shouts and cheers, capturing prisoners and colors, and driving the routed rebels in confusion from the field. at a little past four in the afternoon, when there was a lull in the terrible storm of grape and cannister, i ventured to go to a house which stood about half way between our line of battle and that of the enemy. i found a large quantity of flour, bacon, smoked ham, etc. the appearance of everything in the house indicated that the family had left suddenly, without disturbing anything. the dishes were on the table, as if the family had risen from dinner; the beds and bedding too remained undisturbed; the late inhabitants seemed to have thought of nothing but of saving their lives and escaping from the yankees. [illustration: food for the famishing.--page 227.] i was not long in searching cupboard, pantry and store-room, and appropriating tea, baking-soda, cream-of-tartar, et cetera. but in order to reach the house unobserved by the rebels i had been obliged to crawl there on my hands and feet, and now the question arose how was i to carry anything back with me? taking a bed-quilt i spread it on the floor and commenced selecting the most important articles, such as a small bag of flour, ham, an iron spider, a large coffee-pot, and some other things; after tying these up in the quilt i attached a long bed-cord to the bundle, intending to drag it along the ground. just as i was completing my arrangements, a shell came crashing through the side of the house, and passing through the window on the opposite side, it made the house tremble as if shaken by an earthquake. then another and another came in quick succession until i was obliged to seek refuge in the cellar. the rebels evidently thought that the house contained a band of our sharpshooters, and were determined to dislodge them if possible, for they brought three pieces to bear upon it for about twenty minutes, until they succeeded in setting it on fire. before the echo of the last shot had died away i heard the crackling of the fire above my head, and thought it prudent to make an attempt to escape. i did not find it very difficult to do so, as the fire was principally confined to the upper part of the house. so taking my precious burden of provisions, which still lay unharmed on the floor, i began my retreat in the same manner in which i had advanced, drawing my pack after me by means of the cord. i could not make much progress, however, for i found it very difficult to drag that immense weight over the rough ground. but i at length succeeded in reaching the lines, and was hailed by hearty cheers from those who were anxiously awaiting the result of my hazardous mission. several of the boys caught up the spoil and carried it to the rear, where we built a fire and commenced cooking immediately. an hour later we had a nice lot of hot bread, fried ham and tea ready for disposal. oh, i shall never forget the thrill of pleasure which i experienced when i carried this food and set it before those famishing men, and saw them eat it with a sort of awe and reverence as if it had fallen from heaven. one of the men looked up, with moistened eyes, and said: "bob, do you know that this food has been sent us by our heavenly father, just as much as the manna was sent to the children of israel? that boy risked his life in procuring it for us, but he never would have returned from that burning building if god had not shielded him from the bursting shell. i believe it has just come in time to save me from sharing the fate of poor trowbridge." the battle of malvern hill presented, by far, the most sublime spectacle i ever witnessed. all the battles i had seen before, and those which i have seen since, were nothing to be compared to it. the elevated position which the army occupied, the concentration of such an immense force in so small compass, such a quantity of artillery on those hills all in operation at the same time, the reflection of the flashes of fire from hundreds of guns upon the dense cloud of smoke which hung suspended in the heavens, turning it into a pillar of fire which reminded one of the camp of the israelites and of god's dealings with his people of old, the vivid flashes of lightning, the terrific peals of thunder mingled with the continuous blaze of musketry, sudden explosions of shell and the deafening roar of cannon, combined to make a scene which was _awfully grand_. my soul was filled with the sublimity and grandeur of the scene, notwithstanding the ghastly wounds and piteous groans of the mangled, helpless ones around me. thus it continued from seven to nine in the evening, the most thrilling picture which the imagination can conceive. as soon as the firing ceased the rear of the army began to move off in the direction of harrison's landing, and the exhausted troops in front threw themselves upon the ground to rest. the greater portion of the transportation of the army having been started for harrison's landing during the night, the order was at once issued for the movement of the army upon the final repulse of the enemy at malvern hill. the troops were to move by the left and rear; general keyes' corps being ordered to remain in position until all had moved off--then to cover the retreat. general mcclellan, in his official report, awards great credit to general keyes for the manner in which he carried out these orders. he took every advantage of the ground to open new avenues to aid the movement, and made preparations to obstruct the roads as soon as the army had withdrawn. in this way the march to harrison's landing was continued; the bridges were all destroyed and timber felled across the roads immediately after the army passed, thus rendering any rapid pursuit by the enemy impossible. the trains were kept in the middle of the road, leaving room for the infantry on each side, so as to be in good position to repel any attack which might be made during the march. his dispositions were so successful that, to use his own words: "i do not think more vehicles or any more public property were abandoned on the march from turkey bridge than would have been left, in the same state of the roads, if the army had been moving toward the enemy instead of away from him; and when it is understood that the carriages and teams belonging to the army, stretched out in one line, would extend not far from forty miles, the energy and caution necessary for their safe withdrawal from the presence of an enemy in vastly superior numbers will be appreciated." "high praise," says the commanding general, "is also due to the officers and men of the first connecticut artillery, colonel tyler, for the manner in which they withdrew all the heavy guns during the seven days and from malvern hill. owing to the crowded state of the roads the teams could not be brought within a couple of miles of the position; but these energetic soldiers removed the guns by hand for that distance, leaving nothing behind." the enemy followed the army with a small force, and occasionally threw a few shells at the rear-guard, but were quickly dispersed by our batteries and gun-boats, and on the evening of the third of july the entire army reached the landing. the troops presented a most distressing appearance as they drew up in line, and stacked their guns at harrison's bar. the rain had been pouring down most of the night, and was still drenching the poor battle-worn, foot-sore soldiers, and turning the roads into beds of mortar, and the low marshy ground at the landing into such a condition that it was impossible to get along dry shod, except for those who rejoiced in the possession of high boots. the aggregate of our entire losses in the seven days' battles, from the twenty-sixth of june to the first of july, inclusive, was ascertained, after arriving at harrison's landing, to be fifteen thousand two hundred and forty-nine, namely: fifteen hundred and eighty-two killed; seven thousand seven hundred and nine wounded, and five thousand nine hundred and fifty-eight missing. on the fourth of july the following address was issued to the troops by general mcclellan: "headquarters, army of the potomac _camp near harrison's landing_, july 4, 1862. "soldiers of the army of the potomac:--your achievements of the last ten days have illustrated the valor and endurance of the american soldier. attacked by superior forces, and without hope of reinforcements, you have succeeded in changing your base of operations by a flank movement, always regarded as the most hazardous of military expedients. you have saved all your material, all your trains and all your guns, except a few lost in battle, taking in return guns and colors from the enemy. upon your march, you have been assailed day after day, with desperate fury, by men of the same race and nation, skillfully massed and led. under every disadvantage of number, and necessarily of position also, you have in every conflict beaten back your foes with enormous slaughter. your conduct ranks you among the celebrated armies of history. no one will now question that each of you may always with pride say: 'i belong to the army of the potomac.' you have reached the new base, complete in organization and unimpaired in spirit. the enemy may at any moment attack you. we are prepared to meet them. i have personally established your lines. let them come, and we will convert their repulse into a final defeat. your government is strengthening you with the resources of a great people. on this, our nation's birth-day, we declare to our foes, who are enemies against the best interests of mankind, that this army shall enter the capital of the so-called confederacy; that our national constitution shall prevail, and that the union, which can alone insure internal peace and external security to each state, 'must and shall be preserved,' cost what it may in time, treasure, and blood." chapter xviii. return of old acquaintances--the wounded colonel--i visit washington--military display--epaulets--aristocracy--spirit of johnny bull--soldiers' free library--contraband camp--negro testimony--patient charley--painful position--brother's last conversation--return to the army--christian commission--general howard's speech. about a week after we arrived at harrison's landing a number of our absent ones joined us, among whom were mr. and mrs. b., nellie, jack, my wounded darkie friend from williamsburg hospital, and last and least of all came that pusillanimous coward, colonel ----, whom i had assisted in carrying from the field at the battle of williamsburg, and whom doctor e. had ordered back to his regiment under penalty of being reported to his superior officer. the next day after the arrival of this individual i received a message requesting me to appear at the headquarters of the ---regiment. i started immediately, and found to my astonishment that it was this colonel who desired an interview with me. he had been gone on furlough ever since the battle of williamsburg, and had played his cards so well that he had been promoted to the command of a brigade. he had also managed, by false representations, to have the following notice inserted in the leading newspapers of his native state, viz.: "colonel ---was severely wounded at the battle of williamsburg, while gallantly leading a desperate charge on the enemy's works, and was carried from the field, but no sooner had the surgeons bound up his wound than the noble and patriotic colonel returned again to his command and led his men again and again upon the foe, until the day was won; when he sank upon the ground, exhausted from loss of blood and fatigue, and was carried the second time by his men from the field." the paper in which this false statement was published found its way to camp, and doctor e. replied to it, somewhat changing the editor's sentiments with regard to the conduct of the "noble and patriotic colonel." he, the colonel, had now returned to wreak vengeance upon doctor e. going to his tent i found the colonel alone. he arose as i entered, and in rather an excited manner spoke as follows: "i am informed that you are one of the persons who carried me off the field when i was wounded at williamsburg, and witnessed the infamous conduct of doctor e., and heard the insulting language which he used toward me." i did not reply, but stood gazing at the man before me. he looked me in the face for the first time since i entered, and discovering the smile of contempt which i could not suppress, he seized me roughly by the arm and exclaimed: "see here boy, what do you mean? why do you not answer me?" i replied with provoking coolness and the same sarcastic smile: "pardon me, sir, i was not aware that you asked me a direct question; i understood you to say that you were informed that i was one of the persons who carried you off the battle-field at williamsburg. i have the honor to inform you that thus far your informant was correct." "then you saw the treatment which i received, and heard the abusive language which doctor e. made use of on that occasion?" "i saw doctor e. examine you carefully and thoroughly, and when he could discover no cause for your being brought there, i heard him say--'colonel, you are not wounded at all. you had better let these boys carry you back to your regiment;' and when you so suddenly recovered your strength and sprang to your feet, making use of threats and profane language, he said: 'if you do not return to your regiment within fifteen minutes i will report you to general ----.'" suddenly relaxing his grasp of my arm, he assumed a fawning tone and manner, and taking a paper from his pocket he asked me to put my name to it, and he would reward me handsomely. i took the document from his hand and read it carefully. it was drawn up, as near as i can remember after the following manner: "this is to certify that colonel ---has been infamously treated and maliciously slandered by doctor e., while said colonel was suffering from a wound received at williamsburg battle. two of the undersigned carried him bleeding from the field, and witnessed the cruel treatment and insulting language of doctor e." after reading the document, i said very calmly and decidedly, "colonel, i must decline signing this paper." by this time i had become indignant, and determined to cut short the interview; so touching my hat in mock respect, i left him to his own reflections. now it came my turn to visit washington--and the very next boat that left the landing bore me over the quiet waters of the james river. in due time i reached the capital, and spent three days in visiting the hospitals in washington, georgetown and alexandria, and various other places of interest. i was commissioned with numerous orders and had any amount of messages to deliver for officers and others; as many of our men were in the different hospitals in those cities, and i was expected to find them and deliver letters, packages, etc. the military display made in washington is certainly astonishing, especially to those who are accustomed to see major generals go round in slouched hats and fatigue coats, without even a star to designate their rank. but cocked and plumed hats, scarlet lined riding cloaks, swords and sashes, high boots and spanish spurs, immense epaulets, glittering stars, and gaily caparisoned horses, are to be seen by the hundred around willard's hotel and other places of resort. i noticed that some in particular wore painfully tight uniforms and very small caps, kept on by some new law of gravitation, as one portion rested on the bump of self esteem and the other on the bridge of the nose. "miss periwinkle" says of this class of military heroes: "they look like stuffed fowls, and ride as if the safety of the nation depended upon their speed alone." chaplain a. h. quint manfully defends the multiplicity of epaulets in washington, and very appropriately remarks: "willard's is the news depot. consider how easily a hundred, interested to read the bulletin there, could assemble. first, the general-in-chief is in washington, and has a staff necessarily. secondly, the quartermaster general, the adjutant general, the military governor, the paymaster-general, and the surgeon-general, have each a staff. thirdly, what military force there is in the city has officers. fourthly, there is a multitude of surgeons easily mistaken for army officers, as they wear uniforms. add to these the convalescent officers just able to move about, and you have hundreds necessarily in washington. and of course the display of epaulets is great." notwithstanding the "troublous times," there are generally gay times at the capital. levees and public receptions are frequent, except during the reign of terror, when some bold dash of rebel cavalry is made upon the devoted city, and then there is a genuine panic for a short time. in washington i think there is as much of the aristocratic spirit as you will find in the united states. people there are respected and graded according to their uniform; everything is regulated according to caste, and it is as david crocket says about dining: common people dine at twelve, common clerks in departments at one, head clerks at two, representatives at three, heads of departments at four, senators at five, ambassadors at six, and the president--well, he doesn't dine till the next day. in one of my rambles i visited the senate chamber. it was unoccupied, except by a few specimens of young america, who were playing leapfrog over the seats and desks. i leisurely surveyed every item of interest--sat in sumner's chair, and recalled the scene enacted there a few years previous, and in imagination thrashed brooks until he was a fit subject for a hospital--then giving him a farewell _coup de pied_, i betook me to the picture galleries. after admiring pocahontas sufficiently, and gazing at expiring heroes, who all "appeared to be quitting their earthly tabernacles in convulsions," ruffled shirts, and a tremendous shower of bomb-shell, until my head ached; i then turned for relief to the noble form of "the father of his country," which looked out from the canvas in all the princely majesty which characterized that _great_ and _good_ man. i stood wrapped in profound reverence, when a friend drew my attention to two paintings which i had not noticed before. they represented the surrender of lord cornwallis and general burgoyne. i felt a warm current of blood rush to my face, as i contemplated the humiliating scene--the spirit of johnny bull triumphed over my yankee predilections--and i left the building with feelings of humiliation and disgust. next in order, i visited the "soldier's free library," in fifth street, under the superintendence of john a. fowle, esq. he has accumulated over two thousand five hundred volumes of well selected historical, biographical and religious works. the soldiers in the different hospitals have the free use of the library, which is open daily. the room is nicely furnished, and the pictures hanging on the walls give it a cheerful, home-look, and the soldiers come there by the score. it is an excellent arrangement. thanks to the benevolent hearts and hands that have provided such a luxury for the soldier. an hour's walk through the contraband camp was amusing and instructive. here were specimens of all grades of the negro character, from the genuine pious, cheerful trusting christian, to the saucy, lazy, degraded creature, which generations of slavery has made almost on a level with the beasts of the field. but all of them kind-hearted, merry-tempered, and quick to feel and accept the least token of kindness. their cheerfulness is proverbial; old women, with wool white with age, bent over the wash-tub, grinned and gossiped in the most cheerful manner--girls romped with their dusky sweethearts, and mothers tossed their babies with that tender pride and mother-love which beautifies the blackest and homeliest face. all were happy, because they were free--and there seemed to be no room for anything like gloom or despondency in their hearts. men, women, and children sang, whistled and laughed together--and whether their songs were of heaven, or of hoe-cakes, they were equally inspiring. i found a young lady there, from the north, who had come to washington with the intention of nursing the sick soldiers, but her sympathies being divided between sick america and down-trodden africa, she decided to teach the contrabands instead. she seemed delighted with her employment, and the little black faces were beaming with joy as they gathered around her to receive instruction. one colored man stood listening to the questions which were being asked and answered, and looked as if he would like to give in his testimony. i turned to him, and asked: "how is it with you? do you think you can take care of yourself, now that you have no master to look after you?" "gosh a-mighty, guess i can! ben taking car' of self and massa too for dis fifteen year. guess i can take car' of dis nig all alone now." while at one of the hospitals in alexandria, the head steward told me the following touching incident, which occurred in that hospital. said he: "a young man had been placed under our care, who had a severe wound in the thigh. the ball passed completely through, and amputation was necessary. the limb was cut up close to the body, the arteries taken up, and he seemed to be doing well. subsequently, one of the small arteries sloughed off; an incision was made, and it was taken up. 'it is well it was not the main artery,' said the surgeon, as he performed the operation. 'he might have bled to death before it could have been taken up.' but the patient, (charley, as we always spoke of him), got on finely for a time, and was a favorite with us all. "i was passing through the ward one night, about midnight, when suddenly, as i was passing charley's bed, he spoke to me: 'h----, my leg is bleeding again.' i threw back the bedclothes, and the blood spirted in the air. the main artery had sloughed off. "fortunately, i knew just what to do; and in an instant i had pressed my thumb on the place, and stopped the bleeding. it was so close to the body that there was barely room for my thumb, but i succeeded in keeping it there, and arousing one of the convalescents, sent him for the surgeon, who came in on a run. "'i am so thankful,' said he, as he saw me, 'that you were up, and knew what to do, for otherwise he must have bled to death before i could have got here.' "but on examination of the case, he looked exceedingly serious, and sent for other surgeons. all came who were within reach, and a consultation was held over the poor fellow. one conclusion was reached by all. there was no place to work, save the spot where my thumb was placed; they could not work under my thumb, and if i removed it he would bleed to death before the artery could be taken up. there was no way to save his life. "poor charley! he was very calm when they told him, and he requested that his brother, who was in the same hospital, might be called up. he came and sat down by the bedside, and for three hours i stood, and by the pressure of my thumb kept up the life of charley, while the brothers had their last conversation on earth. it was a strange position for me to occupy, to feel that i held the life of a fellow mortal in my hands, and stranger yet to feel that an act of mine must cause that life to depart. loving the poor fellow as i did, it was a hard thought; but there was no alternative. the last words were spoken. charley had arranged all his business affairs, and sent tender messages to absent ones, who little dreamed how near their loved one stood to the grave. the tears filled my eyes more than once as i listened to those parting words. the last good-bye was spoken; then turning to me, he said: 'now, h----, i guess you had better remove your thumb.' 'oh, charley! how can i,' said i. 'but it must be done, you know,' he replied. 'i thank you very much for your kindness, and now, good-bye.' he turned away his head. i raised my thumb--once more the life-current gushed forth, and in three minutes he was dead." having heard and seen considerable on my little pleasure trip, and my leave of absence having nearly expired, i prepared to return once more to duty, and on my way to the boat i was fortunate enough to meet with some of the christian commission delegates, who were going to harrison's landing on the same boat, and had quite a supply of good things for our sick and wounded. may god bless the christian commission--it is doing a noble work, not only for the sick and wounded, but for our soldiers generally. general howard, of maine, that noble christian patriot of whom i have spoken in a previous chapter, was one of the speakers at the great meeting in philadelphia, january twenty-eighth, the second anniversary of the united states christian commission. he delivered a most touching and appropriate address on that occasion, and as it expresses my own sentiments, both with regard to the christian commission and the religion of christ generally, i will quote a portion of his speech, for the benefit of my readers who may not have read it elsewhere: "i may be allowed to speak freely to the friends who are here to-night. let me tell you one thing which i need not suppress if i could, and that is, that i feel in my heart a deep and abiding interest in the cause of my redeemer. i know that this is also the cause of the christian commission, and therefore i love it, and identify myself with it; and i doubt not that you love it, and will do everything to sustain it, for a like reason. and now i ask you, as i am to go back to the field to take up my cross anew, and to stand up night and day, evening and morning, for the cause of him i love, that your earnest, importunate prayers may follow me, and that god would bless the soldiers, that evil may be repressed among them, and that when they go into battle they may go without a fear, because they know in whom they have believed. "i assert that the highest type of courage is christian courage. when your spirit yearns up to god in prayer, 'oh, lord, be my protector, and in this peril let me run under the shadow of thy wing,' then you will fear no evil, though you walk through the valley and the shadow of death. my friends, these things are realities with me. by the blessing of god, by his spirit, he has enabled me to have a clear conviction that should he take me away i shall go to be with him. not because i am good, or holy, or righteous; but because i have a saviour; an all-sufficient saviour, who is able to save even the chief of sinners unto the utmost. therefore, i am able to say that i can go into the battle fearing no evil. and would to god, for their sakes, that every officer in the army and every soldier in the ranks could declare, in sincerity from the depths of his heart, that god had done such great things for him! these, to me, are settled, solemn convictions; and i speak them freely and frankly, as i am encouraged to do on this auspicious occasion. "it may seem to some that it is expressing one's feelings too publicly; but i think it well for me to bear such testimony in a work like yours, which contemplates this great and all-important result, the promotion of heart religion and the salvation of souls. and especially do i feel this in these times of excitement and terror--over the mere temporal accessories of war, the dreadful sacrifice of lives, the horrible sights of wounds, the caring for the sick and wounded, the lamentations for the dead--amid all this i fear that the still, small voice has not always been listened to; the silent and beautiful, though wonderful work of the spirit of god has not been seen, and its importance felt as it should be in our land. this the christian commission is striving to accomplish; it seeks to keep alive the spirit of christianity among our soldiers. their agency is the leaven in our armies. may they leaven the whole lump! "it is this only that will prepare us for our liberty. this bond, the bond of christian love, is the true bond after all that shall permanently unite us. there is no other. we speak of the claims of commerce and trade, of corn and cotton, that will unite the sections of our country; but these are temporary, fluctuating, perishing links. the religion of jesus christ is the lasting bond that connects not only maine with massachusetts and massachusetts with connecticut, but maine with texas and florida with wisconsin. "we boast of being an asylum for all nations. from england, ireland, france, germany, russia, and almost every country beyond the ocean, come men, women and children, who settle down in our midst. how shall we cause them to assimilate to us? how shall we ever make them good and useful citizens? will it be, think you, by merely giving them land on which to settle? will they become one with us because they grow in material wealth and prosperity? no, no! nothing but an education, a true education of heart and morals, such as the religion of jesus christ imparts, can ever truly and safely assimilate all these heterogeneous elements, and enable us to be truly one people. "the gospel has its victories to achieve for us as well as the sword. many of the rebels hated us worse before the war than they do now. they respect us much more than they once did, after seeing that we are not afraid to expose our bodies to be burned, if necessary, in a just cause--the cause of our country that we love; that we shrink from no sacrifice of money, time or life in order to maintain and perpetuate the beautiful government that our fathers bequeathed to us. but this is not all. they have felt, too, the power of the spirit of kindness and love, of which the religion of jesus has borne so many fruits in this struggle. "they have been astonished at the kindness which has been shown to them when they have fallen into our hands. it was this that demoralized them at vicksburg. in the west the rebels are not so violent as they were. when they come into our lines now they say they were forced to fight, that they are union men, and always were union men. and they are coming in every day. we have just heard that when general rosecrans took command of the cumberland army, eight thousand delivered themselves up to us. and do they hate us? no! we have melted them down by christian kindness and love. and, my friends, this is the way to disarm them. i believe, and say it with emphatic assurance, that if we all have the spirit of the master in our hearts we shall demoralize them wherever we find them! "i do not advocate any shrinking back or checking of the terrible steeds of war. no! fill up the ranks. make the next campaign more vigorous than any that has gone before it, so that it shall be, by the divine help, perfectly impossible for the rebels to keep the field. but let us wield this power along with the alleviating and saving influences of the religion of christ. let these, as diffused by the christian commission and in other ways, follow our armies everywhere, blessing friend and foe alike, and we shall then cause the enemy to come within our lines, not only by the eight thousand, but by the sixteen and sixty thousand. it is this that will ruin their cause, and finally break down their opposition." chapter xix. my constant companion--dispelling the blues--gentle nellie--faces in the hospital--asleep and awake--my horse again--at harrison's landing--impatient to move--dissatisfaction in the army--retreat from richmond--return to newport news--suspicious quarters--searching the house and finding rebel soldiers--thanks to the army--our arrival at acquia creek. while we remained at harrison's landing i spent much of my time in the hospitals. nellie was now my faithful friend and companion, my colleague when on duty, and my escort on all occasions in my rides and rambles. she was a splendid woman, and had the best faculty of dispelling the blues, dumps and dismals of any person i ever met. when we went to a hospital and found the nurses looking tired and anxious and the patients gloomy and sad, it never required more than half an hour for us to get up a different state of feeling, and dispel that "hark-from-the-tombs-a-doleful-sound" sort of spirit, and we invariably left the men in a more cheerful mood, evidently benefited by having a little respite from that depressing melancholy so prevalent among the sick, and so often indulged by nurses. in our own hospital we generally managed to so assort and arrange the patients as to have all of the same temperament and disease together, so that we knew just what to do and what to say to suit each department. we had our patients divided into three classes; one was our working department, another our pleasure department, and a third our pathetic department. one we visited with bandages, plasters and pins; another, with books and flowers; and the third, with beef tea, currant wine, and general consolation. sometimes nellie would sit and fan the patients for hours in the latter department, and sing some soothing pieces in her soft, sweet strains, until she would have them all asleep, or quiet as babies. i think the soldiers may truly say of the gentle nellie: her soothing tones with peace beguile the weary hours of pain, and make the lonely sufferer smile and joy to come again. still let me often hear thy voice, which gently whispers peace, and let my troubled heart rejoice, and strains of sadness cease; still speak to me of pleasant things- of faith, and hope, and joy; then shall i rise on lightsome wings where pains no more annoy. i used to watch with much interest the countenances of those men as they lay fast asleep, and i often thought that i could read their characters better when asleep than when awake. some faces would grow stern and grim--they were evidently dreaming of war, and living over again those terrible battles in which they had so recently participated; some groaned over their wounds, and cursed the rebels vigorously; others grew sad, and would talk in the most pathetic tones, as if the pain borne so silently through the day revenged itself now by betraying what the man's pride concealed so well while awake. often the roughest grew young and pleasant when sleep smoothed away the hard lines from the brow, letting the real nature assert itself. many times i would be quite disappointed, for the faces which looked merry and pleasing when awake would suddenly grow dark and hideous, as if communing with some dark spirits of another world. one poor fellow, whose brain was injured more than his body, would wear himself out more in an hour when asleep than in a whole day when awake. his imagination would conjure up the wildest fancies; one moment he was cheering on his men, the next he was hurrying them back again; then counting the dead around him, while an incessant stream of shouts, whispered warnings and broken lamentations would escape from his lips. i became acquainted with a young man from rhode island in one of the hospitals, who was the most patient and cheerful person it has been my lot to meet under such circumstances. i find the following notice with regard to him: "i came out here," said he, "as rough and as bad as any of them. but i had left a praying mother at home. while in camp at poolesville i heard that she was dead. after that her image was never out of my thoughts. it seemed as if her form appeared to me as in a mirror, and always as wrestling for her wayward son. go where i might i felt as if i saw her in her place of prayer, kneeling and putting up her petitions to god, and not even the roar of battle could drown the soft tones of her voice." he was at the battle of fair oaks, and when it ceased sat down on a log, exhausted, by the wayside, and then, to use his own words, he "thought over the matter." heaps of dead men lay on every side of him. they had fallen, but he was still unharmed. the melting words of his mother's prayer came back to his mind with new power. he thought of his own condition, and of her happy home, so far removed from the strife and agony of war. a pious soldier of his company noticed that he was very thoughtful, and inquired the reason. to this friend he opened his mind freely, and told him how he felt. they sought occasion for private conference, communed together and prayed; strength was given him to make the "last resolve," and the soldier who had been so rough and had became a soldier in the army of jesus. the sainted mother had not prayed in vain. a battle had just been fought, a victory won, which was spreading joy throughout the nation; but here, too, was a triumph, a different triumph, such as cause the angels of god in heaven to rejoice. just as i am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bid'st me come to thee, o lamb of god! i come. one day, while employed in the hospital assisting nellie in some new arrangement for the amusement of the men, i received a letter from the captain to whom i had given my horse for the use of himself and three companions on the retreat from before richmond. he and his friends had reached the james river in safety, and had been so fortunate as to get on board of one of the transports which had been sent for the wounded, and were now comfortably installed in a hospital in washington. he also wrote that he had given my horse in charge of one of the quartermasters of general g.'s brigade, a piece of information which i was exceedingly glad to hear, for my colt was well nigh spoiled on the retreat, and if it had not been, was not fit to ride much, or indeed at all, to do it justice, for it proved to be not quite two years old. but upon finding the quartermaster i was politely informed that he had bought and paid for the horse, and of course i could not have it. i said nothing, but went to general m.'s headquarters, stated the case, and procured an order which brought the horse in double-quick time, and no thanks to the quartermaster. a month passed away, and everything remained quiet at harrison's landing and vicinity. the troops, having rested, began to grow tired of the routine of camp life, and were anxious for another brush with the enemy. the vigilant eye of mcclellan noted the impatience of the men, and he daily kept urging the necessity of reinforcements, and protested against leaving the peninsula, as retreat, in his opinion, would prove disastrous both to the army and the cause. our commander's patience was well nigh exhausted, as the following brief despatch of july 30th indicates: "i hope that it may soon be decided what is to be done by this army, and that the decision may be to reinforce it at once. we are losing much valuable time, and that at a moment when energy and decision are sadly needed." about this time an order came from washington for all the sick to be sent away, without giving any definite information with regard to the intended movements of the army. august fourteenth orders came for the army to evacuate harrison's landing. none knew whither they were going, but notwithstanding every pain was taken to conceal the destination from the troops, it was evident that we were retreating; for the ominous fact that we turned our backs toward richmond was very suggestive of a retreat. this had a demoralizing effect upon the troops, for they had confidently expected to advance upon richmond and avenge the blood of their fallen comrades, whose graves dotted so many hillsides on the peninsula, and whose remains would now be desecrated by rebel hands. the men were deeply moved; some wept like children, others swore like demons, and all partook in the general dissatisfaction of the movement. on the morning of the sixteenth the whole army was _en route_ for parts unknown. our destination proved to be newport news--a march of nearly seventy miles. it was well for us we did not know it then, or probably there would have been more swearing and less weeping among the soldiers. so far as i was personally concerned, i had a very pleasant time during that march. mr. and mrs. b., dr. e., nellie and myself, made up a small party, independent of military discipline, and rode fast or slow, just as it suited our fancy, called at the farm-houses and bought refreshments when we were hungry, and had a good time generally. nellie rode my confiscated colt, and pronounced it a perfect gem. dr. e. playfully said that he supposed she admired it because it was a rebel, and i suggested that he too must be a rebel, from the same premises. time passed away pleasantly until we drew near to yorktown, where sad memories interrupted the animated conversation. nellie was near her former home, with all its pleasant and sad associations. we visited the grave of lieutenant v. i could but rejoice that he had been taken away from the evil to come. he had been saved from all those terrible marches and horrible battles, and from this distressing and humiliating retreat. we hitched our horses and remained some time there, some of the party gathering the rich, ripe fruit, which hung in abundance from the peach trees around us. before leaving, we all bowed around the grave of our friend. chaplain b. offered up an ardent prayer that we might all be faithful, and follow the example of our departed loved one, as he had followed christ, and meet him where war and strife would be heard no more. i know thou art gone to a clime of light, to a world of joy and love, beyond the reach of the sunbeam's flight, in the shadowless above. and i will rejoice in thy smiles again, and hap'ly thy whisper hear; dispelling the gloom of sorrow and pain, when the twilight of death is near. we stopped at a farm-house one evening during our march, and engaged lodgings for the night. the house was very large, and afforded ample accommodations. it was the first one on the peninsula at which i had seen a strong, healthy-looking man, attending to his farm as if there was no such thing as war in the land. the lady of the house was an active, business-like sort of woman, and went to work to make us comfortable. but there was evidently something in or about that house which was not just right--and we had not been there long when i detected suspicious movements, and drew the attention of dr. e. to the fact. the man seemed very uneasy and restless, going from one room to another, shutting the doors very carefully behind him, carrying parcels up stairs in a half frightened way which increased our suspicion. i proposed to our little party that they should remain while i rode back to the army for a detachment of the provost-guard. my proposal was agreed to, and i started back in the direction of the main column. the family seemed alarmed, and asked a great many questions concerning my departure, to which i replied: "i am only going a short distance; i shall probably be back by the time supper is ready." i made all haste after i disappeared from view of the house, and in an hour i was on my way back again, having succeeded in finding the provost-marshal, and getting a corporal and six men to go with me. they entered the house boldly, and told the inmates that they had been informed that there were rebels concealed in the house, and they had come for the purpose of searching it; adding, that they would not disturb anything, if their suspicions were unfounded. the lady said that she had some sick persons in the house, and did not wish them disturbed, assuring them that her family were all union, and they would not harbor any rebels whatever. but all her excuses and pretensions did not deter the guard from accomplishing their object. so marching up stairs, they searched every room. in one room were found four rebel soldiers, or guerillas, all of whom pretended to be very ill. dr. e. was called to examine the patients, and pronounced them well as he was. in another room were two officers; they made no excuse at all, but said that they were the landlord's sons; had been in the rebel service, and were now home on furlough. they said they had been home ever since stuart's cavalry raid at white house, and were waiting for another such dash in order to get back again. the provost-guard marched them all back to headquarters, which was in the saddle, and our little party thought proper to take shelter that night under the wing of the main column, instead of at a farm-house where we were not sure but that our lives would pay for that piece of information given, before morning. the army marched on until it reached the transports. some embarked at yorktown, some at newport news, and others at fortress monroe. the troops were literally worn out and discouraged, caring but little where they went, or what they did. they were huddled on board of transports, and were landed at aquia creek. general mcclellan finding his army, as he had anticipated, much depressed and discouraged in consequence of the retreat from the peninsula, sent the following appeal to general halleck: "please say a kind word to my army, that i can repeat to them in general orders, in regard to their conduct at yorktown, williamsburg, west point, hanover court-house, and on the chickahominy, as well as in regard to the seven days, and the recent retreat. no one has ever said anything to cheer them but myself. say nothing about me; merely give my men and officers credit for what they have done. they deserve it." the army of the potomac had performed an enormous amount of labor in making entrenchments, constructing roads, bridges, etc., and did it with the most gratifying cheerfulness and devotion to the interests of the service. during the entire campaign they had fought ten severely contested battles, and had beaten the enemy on every occasion, showing the most determined bravery and invincible qualities it was possible for an army to exhibit. they had submitted to exposure, sickness and death, without a murmur; and they deserved the thanks of the government and the people for their services. on arriving at aquia creek, we found ourselves the victims of another rainstorm. five of us went on board of a little steam-tug, and thus escaped a severe drenching during the night, for we had not yet seen our tents. when morning came we were treated to breakfast, and the captain was very kind indeed. we were just congratulating ourselves on our good fortune, when we discovered that all our little valuables, relics which we had brought from the peninsula, toilet arrangements, and even our bibles, had been stolen while we were asleep. nellie and i were indulging in some uncharitable remarks concerning those persons upon whose hospitality we had fared sumptuously and slept comfortably, and who had so generously refused to take any remuneration in the shape of greenbacks, but who had helped themselves to things more precious to us than money, when good chaplain b. entered just in time to catch the most unchristian-like sentence we had uttered, and forthwith gave us a lecture upon the heinous sin of ingratitude. when he had concluded, instead of saying amen, i said: "from such hospitality in future, good lord deliver us." we did not remain long at aquia creek, but were ordered to embark immediately for alexandria, virginia. when we arrived there, pope's army was in danger of annihilation; and, consequently, as fast as the army of the potomac arrived, it was ordered to pope's assistance; one portion in one direction, and another in another direction, until it was cut up into sections, and general mcclellan was left at washington, without an army or anything to command except his staff. chapter xx. pope's army--a general's request--again a contraband--entering the rebel lines as a spy--my escape to the federal lines--in peril--kearney killed--crawling through the woods--burial of a picket--looking for a general--mr. negative--mcclellan and pope--the battle of antietam--a touching death-scene--an interesting patient--burial of a female soldier. immediately after arriving at alexandria, i started for the battle-field, where a portion of mcclellan's army had gone to reinforce pope. everything seemed to be in a confused state. there was no definite information with regard to the force of the enemy in that direction, and it seemed impossible to obtain any from reliable sources. mcclellan's troops were ordered to the front, under new commanders, just as they came off the transports in which they arrived from the peninsula, without any rest, or a proper supply of clothing, shoes, or blankets; all of which they much needed, after such a march as they had just accomplished. while the battle raged, and the roar of cannon was reverberating over the national capital, mcclellan sent the following request to general halleck: "i cannot express to you the pain and mortification i have experienced to-day, in listening to the distant firing of my men. as i can be of no further use here, i respectfully ask that, if there is a probability of the conflict being renewed to-morrow, i may be permitted to go to the scene of battle with my staff, merely to be with my own men, if nothing more. they will fight none the worse for my being with them. if it is not deemed best to intrust me with the command even of my own army, i simply ask to be permitted to share their fate on the field of battle." the troops under pope were several days in the vicinity of the shenandoah valley, with no rations but those they found in the fields, such as fruit, green corn, and vegetables. they certainly were in a poor condition to fight, and there was evidently a lack of that cheerful, enthusiastic spirit, which had characterized them on the peninsula. i was ordered by general h. to pass the rebel lines, and return as soon as possible. i took the train at warrenton junction, went to washington, procured a disguise, that of a female contraband, and returned the same night. i passed through the enemy's lines in company with nine contrabands, men, women, and children, who preferred to live in bondage with their friends, rather than to be free without them. i had no difficulty whatever in getting along, for i, with several others, was ordered to headquarters to cook rations enough, the rebels said, to last them until they reached washington. [illustration: at rebel headquarters.--page 263.] the officers generally talked in low tones, but would sometimes become excited, forget that there were darkies around, and would speak their minds freely. when i had been there a few hours, i had obtained the very information which i had been sent for. i had heard the plan of the morrow discussed, the number of troops at several important points, and the number expected to arrive during the night; and this, too, from the lips of the commanding general and his staff. the rebel lines were guarded so strongly and so faithfully, that i did not dare to return that night, but waited anxiously for the dawn of the morrow. early on the following morning, while assisting the cook to carry in breakfast, i removed a coat from a camp-stool which stood in my way, and a number of papers fell from its pockets, which i instantly transferred to my own. i then hurried my arrangements in the tent, lest the documents should be missed before i could make my escape. breakfast was announced, and i suddenly disappeared. going toward the picket line nearest the federals, and seeing an old house in the distance, i went and hid myself in the cellar. soon, firing commenced in different directions, and grew hotter and hotter, until the shot and shell began to shake the old house in which i had taken refuge, and by and by it came tumbling down around me. a part of the floor was broken down, but still i remained unharmed, and did not attempt to leave the ruins. i remembered that good old elijah remained in the cave during the tempest, the earthquake and the fire, and afterward came the still small voice. so i waited patiently for the still small voice, and felt secure; knowing that the lord was a sure refuge, and could protect me there as well as in a drawing-room in the quiet city. it was not long before deliverance came, and the rebels were obliged to fall back and take a new position. when the firing ceased, i was safely within the federal lines. i went immediately to headquarters, and reported myself as having just returned from rebeldom; gave a brief relation of my experience, and delivered the documents which i had brought from rebel headquarters. these proved to be orders intended for the different corps commanders, with instructions how and when to move, so as to act in concert with the entire plan of the morrow, and insure the capture of washington. during those battles and skirmishes of pope's memorable campaign, i visited the rebel generals three times at their own camp-fires, within a period of ten days, and came away with valuable information, unsuspected and unmolested. while the second battle of bull run was in progress, i was a part of the time with the confederates, and then back again to the federals, having made my escape while the battle raged most fiercely by concealing myself in a ravine, and watching until the rebels charged upon a battery. while they were engaged in a hand-to-hand fight, i escaped unobserved by friend or foe. the last of these visits was made the night before the battle of chentilla, in which the brave kearney was killed. i was within a few rods of him when he fell, and was in the act of returning to the union camp under cover of the extreme darkness of that never-to-be-forgotten night. i saw him ride up to the line, but supposed him to be a rebel officer until the pickets fired at him, and even then i thought they had fired at me, until i saw him fall from his horse, and heard their exclamations of joy when they discovered who he was; for the one-armed general was known throughout both armies for his bravery and brilliant career, and the name of kearney had become a word of terror to the rebels. when i learned who was their victim, i regretted that it had not been me instead of him, whom they had discovered and shot. i would willingly have died to save such a general to the union army. but he was taken, while i, poor insignificant creature, was left; but left with a heart and soul as fully devoted to the union cause as kearney's was; only lacking the ability to accomplish the same results. i lost no time in making good my escape, while the attention of the pickets were drawn in another direction. when i came to our lines, i found it almost as difficult to get through as i had found it on the other side. the night was so dark i could not make any sign by which the pickets could recognize me, and i was in the depths of the forest, where the rustling of the leaves and the crackling of dry branches under my feet betrayed my foot-steps as i went along. however, after crawling up pretty close to the line, and getting behind a tree to screen me from the bullets, if they should fire, i managed to make myself understood. the picket said: "all right," and i passed through in safety. coming within the lines, i saw a group of men kneeling on the ground digging a grave with their bayonets, with the least possible noise; for the picket lines were within half musket shot of each other. one of their comrades had been killed, and they were thus preparing his last resting-place. they buried him darkly at dead of night, the turf with their bayonets turning. but there were no "struggling moonbeams," or glimmering stars, to shed a ray of light upon the midnight gloom of that solitary funeral--naught save the vivid flashes of lurid flame which the lightning cast upon the sad scene, lighting up for a moment the surrounding forest, and then dying away, leaving the darkness more intolerable. we may well say of such as die at their post: sweet be the death of those who for their country die; sleep on her bosom for repose, and triumph where they lie. after reaching headquarters and donning another costume, i was dispatched to washington with official documents to mcclellan, who was now in command of the defenses of the capital, and had control of all the troops who came streaming in from the disastrous battle-field. i arrived in the city just as the morning light was breaking, drenched from head to foot, and looking as if mud was my native element. making my way to where i supposed headquarters to be, i saw an important looking individual near by, whom i addressed, and inquired if he could tell me where general mcclellan was to be found? "no, i can not." could he tell me when he was expected at headquarters? "no." was there any person there of whom i could inquire? "not a person." did he know of any place where the necessary information could be obtained? "not a place." could he make any suggestion, or throw the least ray of light upon the subject, which might lead to the whereabouts of the general? "not the slightest." turning away in disgust, i said to the man, "well, good-by, mr. negative. i hope the effort which you have made to assist me will not injure you mentally or physically;" and so saying i rode away, feeling that if i was as big as he imagined himself, and as strong as he was indifferent, i would give him a vigorous shaking before leaving him. i went next to general h.'s headquarters. no one there could tell me anything more definite than that the general had been gone all night, carrying out general halleck's orders and making the best possible disposition of the troops as fast as they came in, for the whole army was now in full retreat. after two hours search i found him, delivered the despatches, and returned to washington, where i remained until the next day, being completely tired out, not having had a night's sleep for five nights previous. on the first of september, general mcclellan had an interview with the president, who requested him to use all his influence with the army of the potomac to insure its hearty co-operation with general pope's army. in compliance with the president's request, mcclellan sent the following despatch to general porter: "i ask of you, for my sake, that of the country, and the old army of the potomac, that you and all my friends will lend the fullest and most cordial co-operation to general pope in all the operations now going on. the destinies of our country, the honor of our arms, are at stake, and all depends upon the cheerful co-operation of all in the field. this week is the crisis of our fate. say the same thing to my friends in the army of the potomac, and that the last request i have to make of them is, that, for their country's sake, they will extend to general pope the same support they ever have to me." immediately after this followed the brilliant and triumphant victories at south mountain and antietam, which more than counterbalanced the disastrous campaign of pope, and which sent a thrill of joy throughout the north. but in this, as in most other instances of earthly bliss, the joy was not unmixed with sorrow--sorrow for the noble dead and wounded upon those bloody fields. at the memorable battle of antietam there were nearly two hundred thousand men and five hundred pieces of artillery engaged during a period of fourteen hours without cessation; and at its termination two thousand seven hundred of the enemy's dead lay upon the field. the report of the federal general in command says: "thirteen guns, thirty-nine colors, upwards of fifteen thousand stand of small arms, and more than six thousand prisoners, were the trophies which attest the success of our army in the battles of south mountain, crampton's gap, and antietam. not a single gun or color was lost by our army during these battles." at the close of the battle i stood by the side of a dying officer of one of the massachusetts regiments, who had passed through the thickest of the fight unhurt, but just at the close of the battle he was struck by a random shot which wounded him mortally. as he lay there, conscious of approaching death, the musicians of the regiment happened to pass by. he requested that they might be asked to play the "star-spangled banner." they cheerfully complied with the dying man's request, and while they played the grand old tune his countenance beamed with joy. he inquired the result of the battle, and when told that it was a victory he exclaimed--"oh! it is glorious to die for one's country at such a time as this!" then turning to the chaplain he spoke in the most affecting manner; he said his trust was in the redeemer; then he sent loving messages to his mother and friends at home. the chaplain read some comforting passages of scripture and prayed with him, and soon after the happy spirit passed away. some one very appropriately says: "when such sacrifices are laid upon the altar of our country, we have surely new incentives to uphold the cause for which they are made, and, with god's help, not to allow the treason which has slain so many victims, to accomplish its purpose. and, through this bloody baptism, shall not our nation be purified at length, and fitted to act a nobler part in the world's history?" god grant it. in passing among the wounded after they had been carried from the field, my attention was attracted by the pale, sweet face of a youthful soldier who was severely wounded in the neck. the wound still bled profusely, and the boy was growing faint from loss of blood. i stooped down and asked him if there was anything he would like to have done for him. the soldier turned a pair of beautiful, clear, intelligent eyes upon me for a moment in an earnest gaze, and then, as if satisfied with the scrutiny, said faintly: "yes, yes; there is something to be done, and that quickly, for i am dying." [illustration: an interesting patient.--page 271.] something in the tone and voice made me look more closely at the face of the speaker, and that look satisfied me that my suspicion was well founded. i went to one of the surgeons in attendance, and requested him to come and see my patient. he did so, and after a moment's examination of the wound told me that nothing could be done whatever to save him. he then left me, and i administered a little brandy and water to strengthen the wounded boy, for he evidently wished to tell me something that was on his mind before he died. the little trembling hand beckoned me closer, and i knelt down beside him and bent my head until it touched the golden locks on the pale brow before me; i listened with breathless attention to catch every sound which fell from those dying lips, the substance of which was as follows: "i can trust you, and will tell you a secret. i am not what i seem, but am a female. i enlisted from the purest motives, and have remained undiscovered and unsuspected. i have neither father, mother nor sister. my only brother was killed to-day. i closed his eyes about an hour before i was wounded. i shall soon be with him. i am a christian, and have maintained the christian character ever since i entered the army. i have performed the duties of a soldier faithfully, and am willing to die for the cause of truth and freedom. my trust is in god, and i die in peace. i wish you to bury me with your own hands, that none may know after my death that i am other than my appearance indicates." then looking at me again in that earnest, scrutinizing manner, she said: "i know i can trust you--you will do as i have requested?" i assured her that she might place implicit confidence in me, and that i would do as she had desired me. then i sought out a chaplain, who came and prayed with her. she was calm and peaceful. i remained with her until she died, which was about an hour. then making a grave for her under the shadow of a mulberry tree near the battle-field, apart from all others, with the assistance of two of the boys who were detailed to bury the dead, i carried her remains to that lonely spot and gave her a soldier's burial, without coffin or shroud, only a blanket for a winding-sheet. there she sleeps in that beautiful forest where the soft southern breezes sigh mournfully through the foliage, and the little birds sing sweetly above her grave. her race is run. in southern clime she rests among the brave; where perfumed blossoms gently fall, like tears, around her grave. no loving friends are near to weep or plant bright flowers there; but birdlings chant a requiem sweet, and strangers breathe a prayer. she sleeps in peace; yes, sweetly sleeps, her sorrows all are o'er; with her the storms of life are past: she's found the heavenly shore. chapter xxi. after antietam--surgeons on the field--the hospitals--lieutenant-colonel dwight mortally wounded--a brutal surgeon--a wounded captain--agony from thirst--christian soldiers--praying and fighting--fops on the field--a rebel programme--pennsylvania to be stripped--camp life--daily routine--burial services. after the battle of antietam, one of the chaplains who was on the field paid a fitting tribute to the colonel commanding the regiment to which he belonged, and vividly described many scenes that came under my own observation on that day, he says: "how faithfully many a surgeon labored! our own assistant surgeon was a hero; regardless of bullets in the hottest fire, he kept coolly on in his work, while near by dr. kendall, of the twelfth massachusetts, was killed. the nearest hospital, that of our own corps, was necessarily in range of the enemy's shell, which every now and then fell around and beyond. near by were five other hospitals, all for one wing. here were generals and privates brought together. general mansfield i saw dying, and a few feet off, an unknown private; general hartsuff badly wounded, and by his side a throng of others now on the same level. there is no distinction as to what body or soul needs then. "our own regiment helped to fill these hospitals. our gallant dead are remembered with all the other dead of massachusetts. but one we lost, hard to replace: our brilliant, brave, generous, kind-hearted lieut.-colonel wilder dwight, shot mortally, but living two days. of wonderful promise at home, cheerful, resigned, strong in faith and trust, ready to die; his only wish being to see his father and mother. while lying in the garden, moved only on a stretcher, he sent our own surgeon to relieve the wounded who were lying all around, the surgeons being occupied in amputating limbs of men in the hospitals; and again and again sent water provided for himself to the poor fellows calling for it. yet colonel dwight was not free from brutal insolence. while waiting there in the night for an ambulance in which to place him, only for shelter, suddenly a harsh voice insisted on turning him out with all our men. "i found a pompous little surgeon angry and furious. i informed him why the men were there, assured him of their good behavior, and requested permission for them to remain as we were momentarily expecting the ambulance. it was all in vain. colonel dwight himself was treated most harshly, although of higher rank than the brute himself; and notwithstanding i told the surgeon he was mortally wounded, he ordered the guard to turn them out at the point of the bayonet, and to prevent their return even to remove colonel dwight; refusing to tell his rank and even his name, until i obtained it of another party. the men were driven away while actually giving water to the wounded who had been calling in vain for help. i assured him i would take care that his conduct was made known, knowing from several scenes i had witnessed that day that he was, from brutality, pomposity and harshness, utterly unfit to be in charge of wounded men, and from gross disrespect to an officer higher in rank, unfit to be in the army. this fellow was a medical director in general reynolds' corps, pennsylvania reserves," and the writer adds, "too good a corps to have such a fellow among them." the ordinary scene which presents itself after the strife of arms has ceased, is familiar to every one. heaps of slain, where friend and foe lie side by side, mangled bodies, shrieks and groans of the wounded and dying, are things which we always associate with the victories and defeats of war. but we seldom expect or hear of songs of praise and shouts of triumph from dying lips on the dreadful battle-field. the following account was received from the lips of a brave and pious captain in one of the western regiments, as some friends were conveying him to a hospital from the battle-field: "the man had been shot through both thighs with a rifle bullet; it was a wound from which he could not recover. while lying on the field he suffered intense agony from thirst. he supported his head upon his hand, and the rain from heaven was falling around him. in a short time a little pool of water collected near his elbow, and he thought if he could reach that spot he might allay his raging thirst. he tried to get into a position which would enable him to obtain a mouthful of the muddy water, but in vain; and he must suffer the torture of seeing the means of relief within sight, while all his efforts were unavailing. "'never,' said he, 'did i feel so much the loss of any earthly blessing. by and by the shades of night fell around us, and the stars shone out clear and beautiful above the dark field, where so many others lay wounded, writhing in pain or faint from loss of blood. thus situated, i began to think of the great god who had given his son to die a death of agony for me, and that he was in the heavens to which my eyes were turned; that he was there above that scene of suffering and above those glorious stars; and i felt that i was hastening home to meet him, and praise him there. i felt that i ought to praise him then, even wounded as i was, on the battle-field. i could not help singing that beautiful hymn- "'when i can read my title clear to mansions in the skies, i'll bid farewell to every fear, and wipe my weeping eyes.' "'and though i was not aware of it till then,'" he continued, "'it proved there was a christian brother in the thicket near me. i could not see him, but was near enough to hear him. he took up the strain from me, and beyond him another, and another, caught the words, and made them resound far and wide over the terrible battle-field. there was a peculiar echo in the place, and that added to the effect, as we made the night vocal with our hymns of praise to god.'" the presence of such men in the army, animated by faith in god, and conscious of serving him in serving their country, adds materially to its elements of strength and success. the religious element has always been acknowledged as a great power in military success. the more intelligent that principle is, the more efficient it must be in securing this result. there is every reason, natural as well as rational, why those who hold their lives in their hand should acknowledge the god of battle, and pray for themselves and their country in the midst of danger. the simplest expression of the relations of praying and fighting was, perhaps, the blunt order of the puritan chief, "put your trust in god, and keep your powder dry." cromwell and his praying puritans were dangerous men to meet in battle. "the sword of the lord and of gideon was exceeding sharp, tempered as it was by hourly prayers." who can but admire the sublime spectacle which gustavus adolphus and his vast army presented on the eve of the battle of lutzen, in which the king fell, praying on bended knees, and then chanting: be of good cheer; your cause belongs to him who can avenge your wrongs; leave it to him our lord. the king fell, but the battle was gloriously won. "and so," says a writer upon this subject, "unless we are untrue to our better nature, it must ever be. before going into battle, the foolish, wicked oath is silent. with the bracing of the nerves for the shock of battle, there goes up a silent prayer for strength, and valor and deliverance. the wounded pray to be saved from death; the dying recall the words of old petitions learned in childhood, and in those broken accents commit their souls to god." the only amusing incident after a battle is, the crowd of spectators from washington and other places. if they are in carriages, their vehicles are sure to get smashed, and then the trouble arises, what are they to do with their baggage? carry it, of course, or leave it behind. even the wounded soldiers cannot help laughing at their sorry plight, gesticulations, and absurd questions. among all this class of individuals, there are none to be compared with government clerks for importance and absurdity. on one of these occasions i remember of a number of those pompous creatures being distressed beyond measure, because they could not return to washington on a train which was crowded beyond description with the wounded. after the cars moved off there they stood gazing after it in the most disconsolate manner. said one, "i came out here by invitation of the secretary of war, and now i must return on foot, or remain here." one of the soldiers contemptuously surveyed him from head to foot, as he stood there with kid gloves, white bosom, standing collar, etc., in all the glory and finery of a brainless fop, starched up for display. "well," said the soldier, "we don't know any such individual as the secretary of war out here, but i guess we can find you something to do; perhaps you would take a fancy to one of these muskets," laying his hand on a pile beside him. the clerk turned away in disgust, and disdaining to reply to the soldier, he inquired, "but where shall i sleep to-night?" the soldier replied, "just where you please, chummy; there is lots of room all around here," pointing to a spot of ground which was not occupied by the wounded. a chaplain stepped up to him, and said: "if you wish to sleep, there is some hay you can have;" and went on to give him a brief lecture upon the impropriety of a young man, in perfect health, just fresh from the city, talking about comfortable lodgings, and a place to sleep, when so many wounded and dying lay all around him. he was horrified, and disappeared immediately. before the rebels attempted to cross into maryland in force, the richmond papers were full of editorials, of which the following is a specimen: "let not a blade of grass, or a stalk of corn, or a barrel of flour, or a bushel of meal, or a sack of salt, or a horse, or a cow, or a hog, or a sheep, be left wherever the confederate troops move along. let vengeance be taken for all that has been done, until retribution itself shall stand aghast. this is the country of the would-be-gentleman, mcclellan. he has caused a loss to us, in virginia, of at least thirty thousand negroes, the most valuable property that a virginian can own. they have no negroes in pennsylvania. retaliation, therefore, must fall upon something else. a dutch farmer has no negroes, but he has horses that can be seized, grain that can be confiscated, cattle that can be killed, and houses that can be burned." but when they really attempted to accomplish these feats, and found with whom they had to contend, they were very glad to re-cross the potomac, without confiscating property or burning houses, and to escape, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. after the battle of antietam, the army was not in a condition to follow up the rebels; but as soon as the capital was safe, and the rebels were driven from maryland and pennsylvania, vigorous efforts were made to recruit, clothe, and reorganize the army. harper's ferry was again occupied, every weak point strengthened, and all the fords were strongly guarded. while the army thus remained inactive for a few weeks, camp duties and discipline were again strictly enforced and attended to. i would not have my readers think that camp-life in the army is so very unpleasant, after all. i do not think so, for i have spent some of the pleasantest, happiest hours of my life in camp, and i think thousands can give the same testimony. one of our good chaplains from the north says that even the city of new york itself can bear no favorable comparison to military life in the army of the potomac. "after all," he says: "new york is a humbug compared with the army. it is tattoo, as i write; what music it is, compared with the nuisance noises of those city streets! our candles are not brilliant; but the sight of the lights of the camps all around, is more pleasant than the glare of the city gas. the air is the pure air of heaven, not the choky stuff of the metropolis. the men are doing something noble, not dawdling away these glorious days in selling tape and ribbons. the soldier lives to some purpose, and if he dies it is a hero's death. the silks of that wealthy mart may be coveted by some; but what are the whole to our bullet-riddled old flag, which passed from the stiffening hands of one color-bearer to another, in the days of many a battle?" to give my reader a more definite idea of the routine of camp life, i will enter into a detail of it more fully. at sunrise _reveille_ beats, drum echoing to drum until the entire encampment is astir, and busy as a bee-hive. roll-call immediately follows, which brings every man to his place in the ranks, to answer to his name. an hour later breakfast call is sounded by fife and drum, and the company cooks, who are detailed for that purpose, deal out the rations to the men as they sit or stand around the cook's quarters. at half-past seven o'clock sick call announces to surgeons and patients that they are expected to appear at the dispensing tent--if able to go there. then comes a general examination of tongues and pulses, and a liberal distribution of _quinine_ and blue pills, and sometimes a little _eau de vie_, to wash down the bitter drugs. guard mounting at eight, which is an imposing affair in itself. the band marches to the usual place of dress parade and strikes up some appropriate piece, which is the signal for the regimental details to march to the place of inspection. the line is formed, arms inspected, and general appearance noted. then the men are marched in review, and divided into three reliefs--one of which is marched to the post of each sentinel, where, after various important conferences, the old sentinel is relieved and the new one takes his place, and so on around the whole camp. the old guard is then marched to their quarters and formally dismissed, having been on duty two hours out of every six during the last twenty-four hours. at nine o'clock the music sounds for company drill, which drill lasts an hour and a half. the bugle announces dinner at one o'clock. at three in the afternoon battalion drill commences, which occupies an hour. at half-past four is heard the first call for evening parade, and at five o'clock comes off the great display of the day--dress parade. supper at six, tattoo at half past eight, and roll-call again at nine; immediately after which comes "taps" on the drum, which means "lights out." but between all these calls drills and parades are more interesting services and duties. away in one corner of the camp is our canvas or log meeting-house, and besides our regular preaching, we have conference and prayer meetings, debating clubs, military lectures, and numerous musical entertainments. then, too, comes visiting the sick in different hospitals, distribution of reading matter and delicacies, and the blessed privilege of religious conversation. and often the solemn services in connection with burying the dead. i will here give a brief description of this service: the burial of a soldier in camp is a most solemn scene. a suitable escort is formed in two ranks opposite the tent of the deceased, with shouldered arms and bayonets unfixed. on the appearance of the coffin the soldiers present arms. the procession then forms--on each side of the coffin are the pall-bearers without muskets--and the escort moves forward with arms reversed, viz.: musket under the left arm, barrel downward, and steadied behind the back with the right hand. the band marches in front, with slow and measured tread and muffled drum they move, pouring out their melancholy wailings for the dead--a sadder dirge than which never fell upon mortal ear. on reaching the place of interment the coffin is lowered into the grave, the soldiers leaning upon their muskets, muzzle downward, the hands clasped upon the butt of their guns, with heads uncovered and reverently bowed upon their hands. the chaplain, who has walked in the rear of the procession, conducts the burial service, at the end of which three volleys are fired over the grave, the trench is filled up, and the soldiers return to duty. warrior, rest! thy toils are ended: life's last fearful strife is o'er; clarion-calls, with death-notes blended, shall disturb thine ear no more! peaceful is thy dreamless slumber; peaceful, but how cold and stern! thou hast joined that silent number in the land whence none return! warrior, rest! thy banner o'er thee hangs in many a drooping fold; many a manly cheek before thee stain'd with tear-drops we behold. thine was not a hand to falter when thy sword should leave its sheath: thine was not a cheek to alter, though thy duty led to death! warrior, rest! a dirge is knelling solemnly from shore to shore: 'tis a nation's tribute, telling that a patriot is no more! and thy young bride weeps in sorrow that no more she hears thy tread; that the night which knows no morrow darkly veils thy laurel'd head! warrior, rest! we smooth thy pillow, for thy last, long earthly sleep; and beneath yon verdant willow storms unheard will o'er thee sweep! there, 'tis done! thy couch awaits thee! softly down thy head we lay; here repose, till god translates thee from the dust to endless day! chapter xxii. a military execution--the preparations--the death--harper's ferry--old john brown--contrast--advance into virginia--condition of the army--a dreary ride--a green guard--seeking shelter--a guerrilla fight--my horse killed--playing possum--my pockets picked--a narrow escape--return to camp--an interesting meeting. about this time one of those horrible and soul-revolting sights, a "military execution," took place; in other words, a soldier was shot in cold blood by his comrades. i did not witness the execution, although it occurred within a short distance of camp, and i give the particulars relating to it from the record of the chaplain who attended the unhappy man to the place of execution: "a painful episode, the first of the kind i have witnessed, took place last friday. it was a military execution. the person thus punished belonged to the third maryland, which is in our division. on tuesday last his sentence was formally read to him. he was to be shot to death with musketry on the next friday, between the hours of noon and four in the afternoon. he had learned the decision on the sunday before. the day of his execution was wet and gloomy. that morning, in the midst of the provost guard, he was sitting on a bag of grain, leaning against a tree, while a sentry with fixed bayonet stood behind, never turning away from him, save as another took his place. useless seemed the watch, for arms and feet had been secured, though not painfully, since the sentence was read. the captain of the guard had humanely done all he could, and it was partly by his request that i was there. a chaplain could minister where others would not be allowed. the rain fell silently on him; the hours of his life were numbered, even the minutes. he was to meet death, not in the shock and excitement of battle, not as a martyr for his country, not in disease, but in full health, and as a criminal. i have seen many a man die, and have tried to perform the sacred duties of my station. i never had so painful a task as this, because of these circumstances. willingly, gladly, he conversed, heard and answered. while such a work is painful, yet it has its bright side, because of the 'exceeding great and precious promises' it is one's privilege to tell. "when the time came for removal to the place of execution, he entered an ambulance, the chaplain accompanying him. next, in another ambulance, was the coffin; before, behind, and on either side a guard. half a mile of this sad journey brought him within a short distance of the spot. then leaving the ambulance, he walked to the place selected. the rain had ceased, the sun was shining on the dark lines of the whole division drawn up in three sides of a hollow square. with guard in front and rear, he passed with steady step to the open side of the square, accompanied by the chaplain. there was a grave dug, and in front of it was his coffin. he sat upon the coffin; his feet were reconfined, to allow of which he lifted them voluntarily, and then his eyes were bandaged. in front of him the firing party, of two from each regiment, were then drawn up, half held in reserve, during which there was still a little time for words with his chaplain. "the general (not mcclellan) stood by, and the provost marshal read the sentence and shook hands with the condemned. then a prayer was offered, amid uncovered heads and solemn faces. a last hand-shake with the chaplain, which he had twice requested; a few words from him to the chaplain; a lingering pressure by the hand of the condemned, his lips moving with a prayer-sentence which he had been taught, and on which his thoughts had dwelt before; and he was left alone. the word of command was immediately given. one volley, and he fell over instantly, unconscious. a record of the wounds were made by the surgeons who immediately examined him. the troops filed by his grave, and returned by the way they came. he left a mother and sister, and was twenty years of age." soon after i spent a night at harper's ferry. john brown is still remembered there, and the soldiers go round singing "his soul goes marching on." that medley of a song does not seem so senseless after all, for the spirit of john brown does seem to march along wonderfully fast, and our troops are becoming imbued with it to a greater extent than is generally supposed. i also visited the court-house, where public service was held by a massachusetts chaplain in the very room where john brown was tried, convicted and sentenced. there was the spot where he had lain upon his litter. there in front of the judge's platform were the juror's seats. the chair which the judge had occupied was now tenanted by an abolition preacher. oh! if old john brown had only lived to see that day! but he is gone, and his soul goes marching on. on the 25th of october, the pontoon bridges being completed at harper's ferry and at berlin, the army once more advanced into virginia. the ninth corps and pleasanton's cavalry occupied lovettsville, a pretty little village reminding one of new england. the army was now in admirable condition and fine spirits, and enjoyed this march exceedingly, scarcely a man dropping out of the ranks for any cause whatever, but entering into the spirit of the campaign with an energy which surpassed all their former enthusiasm. as the army marched rapidly over the country from village to village, the advance guard driving the enemy's pickets from one covert to another, many thrilling adventures occurred, several of which came under my own observation, and as i am expected particularly to relate those in which i was personally concerned, i will here relate one which came very near being my last on this side the "river." on the morning of the third day after we left lovettsville i was sent back to headquarters, which was said to be some twelve miles in the rear. i was then with the advance guard, and when they started forward at daylight i went to the rear. in order to go more quickly i left all my traps in an ambulance--blankets, overcoat and grain, excepting enough to feed once. then starting at a brisk canter i soon lost sight of the advancing column. i rode on mile after mile, and passed train after train, but could find no one that could tell me where mcclellan's headquarters were. on i went in this way until noon, and then found that i was six miles from headquarters. after riding a distance which seemed to me all of ten miles, i at length found the place sought for. i fed my horse, attended to the business which i had been sent to transact, and then tried to find something in the way of rations for myself, but failed utterly. not a mouthful could i procure either at the sutler's headquarters, cook-house, or in any other place. i went to two houses and they told me they had not a mouthful in the house cooked or uncooked--but of course i believed as much of that story as i pleased. the day had been very cold; there had been several smart showers during my ride, and now it began to snow--a sort of sleet which froze as fast as it fell. this was an october day in old virginia. oh! what an afternoon i spent in the saddle on my return; hungry, wet, and shivering with cold. i traveled as fast as my horse was able to go until ten o'clock at night, with the hope of overtaking the troops i had left in the morning, but all in vain, for the whole line of march and programme for the day had been changed, in consequence of coming in contact with the enemy and having a sharp skirmish, which resulted in our troops being nearly outflanked and cut off from the main body of the army. of course i had no opportunity of knowing this that night, so on i went in another direction from that in which the advance guard had gone. by and by i came to some fresh troops just from the north, who had lately enlisted and been sent down to washington, and now were on their way to join mcclellan's army. they had been put on guard duty for the first time, and that too without any definite orders, their officers having concluded to remain there until the main column came up, and they scarcely knew where they were or what orders to give their men. as i rode up, one of the boys--for if boy he was, not more than sixteen summers had graced his youthful brow--stepped out in the middle of the road with his musket at a "trail arms," and there he stood till i came up close to him, and then he did not even say "halt," but quietly told me that i could not go any farther in that direction. why not? well, he didn't exactly know, but he was put there on guard, and he supposed it was to prevent any one from going backward or forward. whether they have the countersign or not? well, he did not know how that was. i then asked him if the officer of the guard had given him the countersign. yes, but he did not know whether it was right or not. "well," said i, "perhaps i can tell you whether it is correct; i have just come from headquarters." he seemed to think that there could be no harm in telling me if i had been at headquarters, so he told me without any hesitation. whereupon i proceeded to tell him of the impropriety of doing so; that it was a military offense for which he could be punished severely; and that he had no right to give the countersign to any one, not even the general in command. then told him how to hold his musket when he challenged any one on his beat, and within how many paces to let them approach him before halting them, etc. the boy received both lecture and instructions "in the spirit of meekness," and by the time i had finished a number of the men were standing around me eager to ask questions, and especially if i knew to what portion of the army that particular regiment was to be assigned. after passing along through these green troops i rode on till i came to a little village, which i never learned the name of, and intended to stop there the remainder of the night; but upon learning that a band of guerrillas occupied it, i turned aside, preferring to seek some other place of rest. i traveled till two o'clock in the morning, when my horse began to show signs of giving out; then i stopped at a farm-house, but not being able to make any one hear me, i hitched my horse under cover of a wood-shed, and taking the blanket from under the saddle, i lay down beside him, the saddle-blanket being my only covering. the storm had ceased, but the night was intensely cold, and the snow was about two or three inches deep. i shall always believe that i would have perished that night, had not my faithful horse lain down beside me, and by the heat of his beautiful head, which he laid across my shoulders, (a thing which he always did whenever i lay down where he could reach me,) kept me from perishing in my wet clothes. it will be remembered that i had started at daylight the previous morning, and had never been out of the saddle, or fed my horse but once since i started, and had not eaten a mouthful myself for twenty-four hours, and had ridden all day and almost all night in the storm. in the morning my feet and hands were so chilled that they were perfectly numb, and i could scarcely stand. however, as soon as daylight came i started again. about a mile from there i went into a field where the unhusked corn stood in stacks, and fed my horse. while employed in this manner, there came along a party of our cavalry looking after that band of guerrillas which i had passed the night before. it was known that they were in the neighborhood, and these men were sent out in search of them. i told them what i knew about it, and intimated that if i were not so hungry, i would go back with them to the village. that objection was soon removed, by supplying me with a substantial breakfast from their haversacks. we started for the village, and had gone about five miles when we were suddenly surprised and fired upon by the guerrillas. two of our men were killed on the spot, and my horse received three bullets. he reared and plunged before he fell, and in doing so the saddle-girth was broken, and saddle and rider were thrown over his head. i was thrown on the ground violently which stunned me for a moment, and my horse soon fell beside me, his blood pouring from three wounds. making a desperate effort to rise, he groaned once, fell back, and throwing his neck across my body, he saturated me from head to foot with his blood. he died in a few minutes. i remained in that position, not daring to rise, for our party had fled and the rebels pursued them. a very few minutes elapsed when the guerrillas returned, and the first thing i saw was one of the men thrusting his sabre into one of the dead men beside me. i was lying partially on my face, so i closed my eyes and passed for dead. the rebels evidently thought i was unworthy of their notice, for after searching the bodies of the two dead men they rode away; but just as i was making up my mind to crawl out from under the dead horse, i heard the tramp of a horse's feet, and lay perfectly still and held my breath. it was one of the same men, who had returned. dismounting, he came up and took hold of my feet, and partially drew me from under the horse's head, and then examined my pockets. fortunately, i had no official documents with me, and very little money--not more than five dollars. after transferring the contents of my pockets to his own, he re-mounted his horse and rode away, without ever suspecting that the object before him was playing possum. [illustration: playing possum.--page 295.] not long after the departure of the guerrillas, our party returned with reinforcements and pursued the rebel band. one of the men returned to camp with me, letting me ride his horse, and walked all the way himself. the guerrillas were captured that day, and, after searching them, my pocket-book was found upon one of them, and was returned to me with its contents undisturbed. it lies before me, while i write, reminding me of that narrow escape, and of the mercy of god in sparing my unprofitable life. a sov'reign protector i have, unseen, yet forever at hand; unchangeably faithful to save,- almighty to rule and command. after returning to camp, i found that i had sustained more injury by my fall from the horse than i had realized at the time. but a broken limb would have been borne cheerfully, if i could only have had my pet horse again. that evening we held our weekly prayer-meeting, notwithstanding we were on a march. chaplain and mrs. b., nellie, and dr. e. were present, and joined heartily in singing the following hymn: and are we yet alive, and see each other's face? glory and praise to jesus give, for his redeeming grace. preserved by power divine to full salvation here, again in jesus' praise we join, and in his sight appear. what troubles have we seen! what conflicts have we past! fightings without, and fears within, since we assembled last! but out of all the lord hath brought us by his love; and still he doth his help afford, and hides our life above. chapter xxiii. mcclellan relieved--his address--burnside in command--on the march--falmouth--my ride--old battlefields--sad sights--"yankee skulls"--"bone ornaments"--shelling fredericksburg--pontoon bridges--occupation of the city--aide-de-camp--dreadful slaughter--a gallant major--strange sights--dark night--death of general bayard--someone's pet--recrossing the rappahannock. after reaching warrenton the army encamped in that vicinity for a few days--during which "father abraham" took the favorable opportunity of relieving the idol of the army of the potomac from his command, and ordered him to report at trenton, new jersey, just as he was entering upon another campaign, with his army in splendid condition. after a brief address and an affecting farewell to officers and men, he hastened to comply with the order. his farewell address was as follows: "november 7th, 1862. officers and soldiers of the army of the potomac: an order of the president devolves upon major-general burnside the command of this army. in parting from you i cannot express the love and gratitude i bear you. as an army you have grown up under my care. in you i have never found doubt or coldness. the battles you have fought under my command will proudly live in our nation's history. the glory you have achieved, our mutual perils and fatigues, the graves of our comrades fallen in battle and by disease, the broken forms of those whom wounds and sickness have disabled--the strongest associations which can exist among men--unite us still by an indissoluble tie. we shall ever be comrades in supporting the constitution of our country and the nationality of its people." that was a sad day for the army of the potomac. the new commander marched the army immediately to falmouth, opposite fredericksburg. of the incidents of that march i know nothing, for i went to washington, and from thence to aquia creek by water. i did not return to washington on the cars, but rode on horseback, and made a two days' trip of it, visiting all the old places as i went. the battle-ground of the first and second bull run battles, centerville, fairfax court house, and chentilla. but how shall i describe the sights which i saw and the impressions which i had as i rode over those fields! there were men and horses thrown together in heaps, and some clay thrown on them above ground; others lay where they had fallen, their limbs bleaching in the sun without the appearance of burial. there was one in particular--a cavalryman: he and his horse both lay together, nothing but the bones and clothing remained; but one of his arms stood straight up, or rather the bones and the coatsleeve, his hand had dropped off at the wrist and lay on the ground; not a finger or joint was separated, but the hand was perfect. i dismounted twice for the purpose of bringing away that hand, but did not do so after all. i would have done so if it had been possible to find a clue to his name or regiment. the few families who still live in that vicinity tell horrid stories of the brutal conduct of the rebels after those battles. a southern clergyman declares that in the town where he now resides he saw rebel soldiers selling "yankee skulls" at ten dollars apiece. and it is a common thing to see rebel women wear rings and ornaments made of our soldiers' bones--in fact they boast of it, even to the union soldiers, that they have "yankee bone ornaments." this to me was a far more sickening sight than was presented at the time of the battles, with dead and wounded lying in their gore. i looked in vain for the old "brush heap" which had once screened me from the rebel cavalry; the fire had consumed it. but the remains of the stone church at centerville was an object of deep interest to me. i went from washington to aquia creek by steamer, and from thence to falmouth on horseback. i found the army encamped in the mud for miles along the rappahannock river. the river is very narrow between falmouth and fredericksburg, not more than a stone's cast in some places. i have often seen the pickets on both sides amusing themselves by throwing stones across it. some writer in describing the picturesque scenery in this locality says: "there is a young river meandering through its center, towards which slope down beautiful banks of mud on either side, while the fields are delightfully variegated by alternate patches of snow and swamp, and the numerous roads are in such condition that no matter which one you take you are sure to wish you had tried another instead." all the mud and bad roads on the peninsula could not bear the least comparison with that of falmouth and along the rappahannock. it was now december and the weather was extremely cold, yet the constant rains kept the roads in the most terrible state imaginable. on riding along the brink of the river we could see distinctly the rebel batteries frowning on the heights beyond the city of fredericksburg, and the rebel sentinels walking their rounds within talking distance of our own pickets. on the eleventh the city was shelled by our troops. the pontoon bridges were laid amid showers of bullets from the sharpshooters of the enemy, who were ensconced in the houses on the opposite bank. however, the work went steadily on, notwithstanding that two out of every three who were engaged in laying the bridges were either killed or wounded. but as fast as one fell another took his place. soon it was deemed expedient to take care of those sharpshooters before the bridges could be finished. several companies filed into boats and rowed across in a few minutes, the men of the seventh michigan leading the van, and drove the rebels from the houses, killing some and taking many prisoners. the bridges were soon completed, the troops marched over and took possession of the city. headquarters were established in the principal building, and a church and other large buildings were appropriated for hospital purposes. the following is an extract from my journal, written on the battlefield the second day after we crossed the river: battle-field, fredericksburg, va., _december 13, 1862_. in consequence of one of general h.'s staff officers being ill i have volunteered to take his place, and am now aide-de-camp to general h. i wish my friends could see me in my present uniform! this division will probably charge on the enemy's works this afternoon. god grant them success! while i write the roar of cannon and musketry is almost deafening, and the shot and shell are falling fast on all sides. this may be my last entry in this journal. god's will be done. i commit myself to him, soul and body. i must close. general h. has mounted his horse, and says come--! of course it is not for me to say whose fault it was in sacrificing those thousands of noble lives which fell upon that disastrous field, or in charging again and again upon those terrible stone walls and fortifications, after being repulsed every time with more than half their number lying on the ground. the brave men, nothing daunted by their thinned ranks, advanced more fiercely on the foe- plunged in the battery's smoke, fiercely the line they broke; strong was the saber stroke, making an army reel. but when it was proved to a demonstration that it was morally impossible to take and retain those heights, in consequence of the natural advantage of position which the rebels occupied, and still would occupy if they should fall back--whose fault was it that the attempt was made time after time, until the field was literally piled with dead and ran red with blood? we may truly say of the brave soldiers thus sacrificed- their's not to reason why, their's not to make reply, their's but to do and die. among the many who fell in that dreadful battle perhaps there is none more worthy of notice than the brave and heroic major edward e. sturtevant, of keene, new hampshire, who fell while leading the gallant fifth in a charge upon the enemy. he was the first man in new hampshire who enlisted _for the war_. he was immediately authorized by the governor to make enlistments for the first new hampshire volunteers, and was eminently successful. he held the commission of captain in the first regiment, and afterwards was promoted major of the fifth. one of the leading papers of his native state has the following with regard to him: "he was in every battle where the regiment was engaged, nine or ten in number, besides skirmishes, and was slightly wounded at the battle of fair oaks. he commanded the regiment most of the time on the retreat from the chickahominy to james river. the filial affection of the deceased was of the strongest character, and made manifest in substantial ways on many occasions. his death is the first in the household, and deep is the grief that is experienced there; but that grief will doubtless be mitigated by the consoling circumstance that the departed son and brother died in a service that will hallow his memory forever. a braver man or more faithful friend never yielded up his spirit amidst the clash of arms and the wail of the dying." i well remember the desperate charge which that brave officer made upon the enemy just before he fell, and the thinned and bleeding ranks of his men as they returned, leaving their beloved commander on the field, reminded me of the "gallant six hundred," of whom tennyson has written the following lines: stormed at with shot and shell, they that had struck so well rode through the jaws of death, half a league back again up, from the mouth of hell- all that was left of them. i have since had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with the bereaved family of the deceased, and deeply sympathize with them in the loss of one so noble, kind, and brave. major sturtevant was the son of george w. sturtevant, esq., and nephew of rev. david. kilburn--one of the pioneers of methodism--whom thousands will remember as a faithful and efficient minister of the gospel. during the progress of that battle i saw many strange sights--although i had been in many a fierce battle before. i never saw, till then, a man deliberately shoot himself, with his own pistol, in order to save the rebels the satisfaction of doing so, as it would seem. as one brigade was ordered into line of battle, i saw an officer take out his pistol and shoot himself through the side--not mortally, i am sorry to say, but just sufficient to unfit him for duty; so he was carried to the rear--he protesting that it was done by accident. another officer i saw there, a young and handsome lieutenant, disgrace his shoulder-straps by showing the white feather at the very moment when he was most needed. i rode three miles with general h. to general franklin's headquarters, the second night we were at fredericksburg, and of all the nights that i can recall to mind that was the darkest. on our way we had numerous ditches to leap, various ravines to cross, and mountains to climb, which can be better imagined than described. it was not only once or twice that horse and rider went tumbling into chasms head first, but frequently. as we passed along, we stopped at the headquarters of general bayard (general of cavalry) a few minutes--found him enjoying a cup of coffee under a large tree, which constituted his headquarters. we called again when we returned, but he was cold in death, having been struck by a stray shot, and died in a short time. he was killed just where we had left him, under the tree. he was a splendid officer, and his removal was a great loss to the federal cause. his death cast a gloom over his whole command which was deeply felt. of the wounded of this battle i can say but little, for my time was fully occupied in the responsible duties which i had volunteered to perform; and so constantly was i employed, that i was not out of the saddle but once in twelve hours, and that was to assist an officer of the seventy-ninth, who lay writhing in agony on the field, having been seized with cramps and spasms, and was suffering the most extreme pain. he was one of the brave and fearless ones, however, and in less than an hour, after having taken some powerful medicine which i procured for him, he was again on his horse, at the general's side. on going to the church hospital in search of doctor e., i saw an immense shell which had been sent through the building and fell on the floor, in the centre of those wounded and dying men who had just been carried off the field, and placed there for safety. but strange to say, it did not burst or injure any one, and was carried out and laid beside the mangled limbs which had been amputated in consequence of contact with just such instruments of death. i saw the remains of the rev. a. b. fuller, chaplain of the sixteenth massachusetts, as they were removed to the camp. he was faithful to his trust, and died at his post. on one of my necessary rides, in the darkness of that dreadful night, i passed by a grave-yard near by where our reserves were lying--and there, in that hour of darkness and danger, i heard the voice of prayer ascend. a group of soldiers were there holding communion with god--strengthening their souls for the coming conflict. there are, scattered over the battle-fields and camping-grounds of this war, bethels, consecrated to god, and sacred to souls who have wrestled and prevailed. this retirement was a grave-yard, with a marble slab for an altar, where that little band met to worship god--perhaps for the last time. but among all the dead and wounded, i saw none who touched my heart so much as one beautiful boy, severely wounded; he was scarcely more than a child, and certainly a very attractive one. some one writes the following, after he was sent to a hospital: "among the many brave, uncomplaining fellows who were brought up to the hospital from the battle of fredericksburg, was a bright-eyed and intelligent youth, sixteen years old, who belonged to a northern regiment. he appeared more affectionate and tender, more refined and thoughtful than many of his comrades, and attracted a good deal of attention from the attendants and visitors. manifestly the pet of some household which he had left, perhaps, in spite of entreaty and tears. he expressed an anxious longing for the arrival of his mother, who was expected, having been informed that he was mortally wounded, and failing fast. ere she arrived, however, he died. but before the end, almost his last act of consciousness was the thought that she had really come; for, as a lady sat by his pillow and wiped the death-dews from his brow, just as his sight was failing, he rallied a little, like an expiring taper in its socket, looked up longingly and joyfully, and in tones that drew tears from every eye whispered audibly, 'is that mother?' then drawing her toward him with all his feeble power, he nestled his head in her arms, like a sleeping child, and thus died, with the sweet word, 'mother,' on his lips." raise me in your arms, dear mother, let me once more look on the green and waving willows, and the flowing brook; hark, those strains of angel music from the choirs above! dearest mother, i am going, truly "god is love." a council of war was held by our generals, and the conclusion arrived at that the enterprise should be abandoned, and that the army should recross the rappahannock under cover of darkness. everything was conducted in the most quiet manner; so quiet, indeed, that the enemy never suspected the movement, and the retreat was accomplished, and the bridges partially removed, before the fact was discovered. chapter xxiv. after the battle--sufferings of the wounded--general burnside's order--"stuck in the mud"--hooker in command--western campaign--cavalry reconnoissance--another disguise--again in dixie--a wedding party--in a trap--rebel conscript--on the march--a rebel captain--a fierce engagement--again under the old flag--paying a debt of gratitude. after the battle of fredericksburg the weather was very cold, and the wounded suffered exceedingly--even after they were sent to aquia creek, and other places--for they could not all be provided for and made comfortable immediately. our troops returned to their old camps in the mud, and remained stationary for several weeks, notwithstanding our daily orders were to be ready to march at a moment's notice. the unnecessary slaughter of our men at fredericksburg had a sad effect upon our troops, and the tone of the northern press was truly distressing. the wailing for the noble dead seemed wafted on every breeze, for in the city, in the village, in the hamlet far away, sit the mothers, watching, waiting, for their soldier boys to-day. they are coming, daily coming, one by one, and score by score, in their leaden casings folded, underneath the flag they bore. on the twentieth of january general burnside issued the following order to the army, which was joyfully received; for of all places for an encampment, that seemed to be the most inconvenient and disagreeable: head-quarters, army of the potomac, _camp near falmouth, va._, jan. 20, 1863. general orders--no. 7. the commanding general announces to the army of the potomac that they are about to meet the enemy once more. the late brilliant actions in north carolina, tennessee and arkansas, have divided and weakened the enemy on the rappahannock, and the auspicious moment seems to have arrived to strike a great and mortal blow to the rebellion, and to gain that decisive victory which is due to the country. let the gallant soldiers of so many brilliant battle-fields accomplish this achievement, and a fame the most glorious awaits them. the commanding general calls for the firm and united action of officers and men, and, under the providence of god, the army of the potomac will have taken the great step towards restoring peace to the country, and the government to its rightful authority. by command of major-general burnside. lewis richmond, _assistant adjutant-general_. soon after this order was issued a portion of the army did really move--but the pontoons became "stuck in the mud," and the troops returned again. in this manner the winter wore away, and a severe winter i thought it was; for in riding a distance of two miles, in two instances, i had my feet frozen. general hooker was now put in command of the army of the potomac, and burnside, with the ninth army corps, ordered to the western department. being desirous of leaving the army of the potomac, i now applied for permission to go with the ninth corps, which was granted. i did not go with the troops, however, but went to washington first, and remained several days; then took the cars and proceeded to louisville, kentucky, and arrived there before the troops did. the last entry in my journal, before leaving the army of the potomac, was as follows: "the _weather_ department is in perfect keeping with the war department; its policy being to make as many changes as possible, and every one worse than the last. may god bless the old army of the potomac, and save it from total annihilation." on the arrival of the troops at louisville, they were sent in detachments to different places--some to bardstown, some to lebanon, and others to guard different portions of the railroad. the third day after my arrival i went out with a reconnoitering expedition, under command of general m. it was entirely composed of cavalry. we rode thirty-six miles that afternoon--the roads were splendid. when we were about twelve miles from our lines we changed our course and struck through the woods, fording creeks and crossing swamps, which was anything but pleasant. after emerging from the thick undergrowth, on one occasion, we came upon an inferior force of the enemy's cavalry; a sharp skirmish ensued, which resulted in the capture of five prisoners from the rebel band, and wounding several. three of our men were slightly wounded, but we returned to louisville in good order, and enjoyed the luxury of a good supper at a hotel, which is a rare thing in that city. i took the cars the next day and went to lebanon--dressed in one of the rebel prisoner's clothes--and thus disguised, made another trip to rebeldom. my business purported to be buying up butter and eggs, at the farm-houses, for the rebel army. i passed through the lines somewhere, without knowing it; for on coming to a little village toward evening, i found it occupied by a strong force of rebel cavalry. the first house i went to was filled with officers and citizens. i had stumbled upon a wedding party, unawares. captain logan, a recruiting officer, had been married that afternoon to a brilliant young widow whose husband had been killed in the rebel army a few months before. she had discovered that widow's weeds were not becoming to her style of beauty, so had decided to appear once more in bridal costume, for a change. i was questioned pretty sharply by the handsome captain in regard to the nature of my business in that locality, but finding me an innocent, straightforward kentuckian, he came to the conclusion that i was all right. but he also arrived at the conclusion that i was old enough to be in the army, and bantered me considerably upon my want of patriotism. the rebel soldier's clothes which i wore did not indicate any thing more than that i was a kentuckian--for their cavalry do not dress in any particular uniform, for scarcely two of them dress alike--the only uniformity being that they most generally dress in butternut color. i tried to make my escape from that village as soon as possible, but just as i was beginning to congratulate myself upon my good fortune, who should confront me but captain logan. said he: "see here, my lad; i think the best thing you can do is to enlist, and join a company which is just forming here in the village, and will leave in the morning. we are giving a bounty to all who freely enlist, and are conscripting those who refuse. which do you propose to do, enlist and get the bounty, or refuse, and be obliged to go without anything?" i replied, "i think i shall wait a few days before i decide." "but we can't wait for you to decide," said the captain; "the yankees may be upon us any moment, for we are not far from their lines, and we will leave here either to-night or in the morning early. i will give you two hours to decide this question, and in the mean time you must be put under guard." so saying, he marched me back with him, and gave me in charge of the guards. in two or three hours he came for my decision, and i told him that i had concluded to wait until i was conscripted. "well," said he, "you will not have long to wait for that, so you may consider yourself a soldier of the confederacy from this hour, and subject to military discipline." this seemed to me like pretty serious business, especially as i would be required to take the oath of allegiance to the confederate government. however, i did not despair, but trusted in providence and my own ingenuity to escape from this dilemma also; and as i was not required to take the oath until the company was filled up, i was determined to be among the missing ere it became necessary for me to make any professions of loyalty to the rebel cause. i knew that if i should refuse to be sworn into the service after i was conscripted, that in all probability my true character would be suspected, and i would have to suffer the penalty of death--and that, too, in the most barbarous manner. i was glad to find that it was a company of cavalry that was being organized, for if i could once get on a good horse there would be some hope of my escape. there was no time to be lost, as the captain remarked, for the yankees might make a dash upon us at any moment; consequently a horse and saddle was furnished me, and everything was made ready for a start immediately. ten o'clock came, and we had not yet started. the captain finally concluded that, as everything seemed quiet, we would not start until daylight. music and dancing was kept up all night, and it was some time after daylight when the captain made his appearance. a few moments more and we were trotting briskly over the country, the captain complimenting me upon my horsemanship, and telling me how grateful i would be to him when the war was over and the south had gained her independence, and that i would be proud that i had been one of the soldiers of the southern confederacy, who had steeped my saber in yankee blood, and driven the vandals from our soil. "then," said he, "you will thank me for the interest which i have taken in you, and for the _gentle persuasives_ which i made use of to stir up your patriotism and remind you of your duty to your country." in this manner we had traveled about half an hour, when we suddenly encountered a reconnoitering party of the federals, cavalry in advance, and infantry in the rear. a contest soon commenced; we were ordered to advance in line, which we did, until we came within a few yards of the yankees. the company advanced, but my horse suddenly became unmanageable, and it required a second or two to bring him right again; and before i could overtake the company and get in line the contending parties had met in a hand to hand fight. all were engaged, so that when i, by accident, got on the federal side of the line, none observed me for several minutes, except the federal officer, who had recognized me and signed to me to fall in next to him. that brought me face to face with my rebel captain, to whom i owed such a debt of gratitude. thinking this would be a good time to cancel all obligations in that direction, i discharged the contents of my pistol in his face. this act made me the center of attraction. every rebel seemed determined to have the pleasure of killing me first, and a simultaneous dash was made toward me and numerous saber strokes aimed at my head. our men with one accord rushed between me and the enemy, and warded off the blows with their sabers, and attacked them with such fury that they were driven back several rods. [illustration: paying a debt of gratitude.--page 316.] the infantry now came up and deployed as skirmishers, and succeeded in getting a position where they had a complete cross-fire on the rebels, and poured in volley after volley until nearly half their number lay upon the ground. finding it useless to fight longer at such a disadvantage they turned and fled, leaving behind them eleven killed, twenty-nine wounded, and seventeen prisoners. the confederate captain was wounded badly but not mortally; his handsome face was very much disfigured, a part of his nose and nearly half of his upper lip being shot away. i was sorry, for the graceful curve of his mustache was sadly spoiled, and the happy bride of the previous morning would no longer rejoice in the beauty of that manly face and exquisite mustache of which she seemed so proud, and which had captivated her heart ere she had been three months a widow. our men suffered considerable loss before the infantry came up, but afterward scarcely lost a man. i escaped without receiving a scratch, but my horse was badly cut across the neck with a saber, but which did not injure him materially, only for a short time. after burying the dead, federal and rebel, we returned to camp with our prisoners and wounded, and i rejoiced at having once more escaped from the confederate lines. i was highly commended by the commanding general for my coolness throughout the whole affair, and was told kindly and candidly that i would not be permitted to go out again in that vicinity, in the capacity of spy, as i would most assuredly meet with some of those who had seen me desert their ranks, and i would consequently be hung up to the nearest tree. not having any particular fancy for such an exalted position, and not at all ambitious of having my name handed down to posterity among the list of those who "expiated their crimes upon the gallows," i turned my attention to more quiet and less dangerous duties. then sweet thoughts of home came stealing over my mind, and i exclaimed: adieu, dear land, with beauty teeming, where first i roved a careless child; of thee my heart will e'er be dreaming- thy snow-clad peaks and mountains wild. dear land, that i cherish, o, long may'st thou flourish! my memory must perish ere i forget thee. chapter xxv. appointed detective--i visit louisville--secesh acquaintances--seeking employment--peddling--rebel spies--acting as clerk--trapping spies--start for vicksburg--pro-slavery troops--cruelty to negroes--visiting hospitals--touching scenes--an armless soldier--patient suffering--triumphant death--rally round the flag--western chaplains--soldiers' testimony--effect of prayer in battle--carrying the wounded. being prohibited from further explorations in that region outside of our lines, i was appointed to act as detective inside of the lines, as there were many spies in our midst who were daily giving information to the enemy, and had baffled all attempts at discovery. i forthwith dressed in citizen's clothes and proceeded to louisville, and there mingled freely with the citizens, visited the different places of public resort, and made many secesh acquaintances. at length i found a merchant who was the most bitter in his denunciations of the yankees that it has ever been my lot to meet, and i thought he would be a pretty good person to assist me in my undertakings. stepping into his store one morning i inquired if he was in need of a clerk. he replied that he would require help in a few days, as one of his clerks was going to leave. then came the interrogatory process--who was i, where did i come from, and what had brought me to that city? well, i was a foreigner, and wishing to see a little of this great american war, i had come "down south;" and now that i was here, finding myself scarce of money, i would like to find some employment. this was literally true. i was a foreigner, and very often scarce of money, and really wished him to employ me. he finally told me that i might come in the course of a week; but that did not suit my purpose, so i told him i would rather come at once, as i would be learning considerable before the other clerk went away; adding that he might give me just whatever he pleased for the first week's work. that seemed to suit him and i was at once set to work. after i had been there several days, i was asked how i would like to go out to the nearest camp and sell some small articles to the soldiers. i would like it much; so was sent accordingly with an assortment of pocket knives, combs and suspenders. by the middle of the afternoon i had sold out my stock in trade, returned to the store, and gave a good account of myself and of the goods intrusted to my care. my employer was pleased with my success and seemed interested in me, and each day brought some new proof of his confidence. things went on this way for two weeks, in which time i had succeeded, by the good merchant's assistance, in finding a clue to three rebel spies then within our lines. i was often questioned by my employer with regard to my political sentiments, but of course i did not know anything about politics--in fact i hardly knew how to apply the terms federal and confederate, and often misapplied them when talking in the store, and was frequently told that i must not call the d--d yankees, confederates, and all due pains were taken to instruct me, and give me a proper insight into the true state of affairs, as seen by southern secessionists. at last i expressed a desire to enter the confederate service, and asked the merchant how i should manage to get through the yankee lines if i should decide to take such a step. after a long conversation, and much planning, we at last decided that i should go through our lines the next night with a person who was considered by our troops a thorough union man, as he had taken the oath of allegiance to the federal government--but who was in reality a rebel spy. that afternoon i was sent out again to dispose of some goods to the soldiers, and while i was gone took the favorable opportunity of informing the provost marshal of my intended escape the following night together with my brother spy. after telling him that i might not be able to leave the store again with any more definite information without incurring suspicion, and that he had better send some one to the store at a certain hour the next day to purchase some trifle, so that i might inclose in the parcel the necessary information, i went back to the store, and my clever employer told me that i had better not trouble myself any more about anything, but get ready for my journey. having but little preparation to make, however, i soon returned to the store. not long after a gentleman came in, to whom i was introduced, and was told that this was the person who proposed to conduct me through the lines. he was not announced in his true character, but i understood at once that this gentlemanly personage was no less than the spy before referred to. he questioned me pretty sharply, but i being "slow of speech," referred him to the merchant, whose eloquence had convinced me of my duty to the southern confederacy. my employer stood beside me and gave him a brief history of our acquaintance and of his confidence in me; also of his own peculiar faculty of impressing the truth upon unprejudiced minds. the spy evidently took me for a poor green boy whom the merchant had flattered into the idea of becoming a soldier, but who did not realize the responsibility of my position, and i confirmed him in that opinion by saying--"well, i suppose if i don't like soldiering they will let me go home again?" the provost marshal himself came in during the day, and i had my document ready informing him what time we would start and what direction we were to take. the night came, and we started about nine o'clock. as we walked along toward the rebel lines the spy seemed to think that i was a true patriot in the rebel cause, for he entertained me with a long conversation concerning his exploits in the secret service; and of the other two who were still in camp he said one of them was a sutler, and the other sold photographs of our generals. we were pursuing our way in the darkness, talking in a low, confidential tone, when suddenly a number of cavalry dashed upon us and took us both prisoners. as soon as we were captured we were searched, and documents found on my companion which condemned him as a spy. we were then marched back to louisville and put under guard. the next morning he was taken care of, and i was sent to general m.'s headquarters. the next thing to be done was to find the other two spies. the sutler was found and put under arrest, and his goods confiscated, but the dealer in photographs had made his escape. i never dared go back to louisville again, for i had ample reason to believe that my life would pay the penalty if i did. about this time the ninth army corps was ordered to vicksburg, where general grant had already commenced his siege. while the troops waited at the depot for transportation a little incident occurred which illustrates the spirit of the kentucky soldiers on the slavery question. two of our kentucky regiments were stationed as guards at the depot, and on this occasion were amusing themselves by throwing stones at every poor negro who had occasion to pass within a stone's throw of them. a michigan regiment marched into the depot on its way to vicksburg, and along with it some smart, saucy darkies, in the capacity of servants. the native soldiers began the same game with them, by throwing stones at and abusing them; but the michigan men informed them that "if they did not stop that kind of business immediately they would find more work on hand than they could attend to," as they considered their servants a necessary part of their regiment, and would not permit them to be abused or insulted any more than if they were white men. this gave rise to a warm discussion between the troops, and ended in the kentuckians forbidding and prohibiting the different regiments from taking a negro with them from the state under any circumstances. of course this incensed our patriotic troops, and in five minutes they were in line of battle arrayed against their pro-slavery brethren in arms. but before blood was shed the commander of the post was informed, and hastened to the spot to prevent further mischief. when the case was fully made known to him he could not settle the matter, for he was a kentuckian by birth, and his sympathies were with the native troops--yet he knew if he should decide in their favor that a bloody fight would be the consequence, as the troops still remained in line of battle awaiting the decision of the commander. he finally told them that they must remain there until he telegraphed to the headquarters of the department and received an answer. consequently the troops were detained two days waiting for the despatch that would decide the contest. the men became tired of the fun and marched back to camp. in consequence of this affair the poor negroes fared worse than ever, and the troops had no sooner gone back to camp than the kentuckians swore they would hang every "nigger" that came into their camp. during the day i was passing through the depot, and saw a little black urchin selling cakes and pies, who had no sooner made his appearance than the guards took his basket away from him. the boy commenced to cry, when four of the soldiers took hold of him, each one taking hold of a hand or foot, and pulled him almost limb from limb--just as i have seen cruel schoolboys torture frogs. when they threw him on the ground he could neither speak, cry, nor walk, but there he lay a little quivering, convulsive heap of pain and misery. the telegram came at last, and the troops were permitted to depart in peace--taking with them their colored friends, to the chagrin of the kentucky guards. before reaching vicksburg i visited several hospitals where the wounded had been brought from those terrible battles preceding the siege of vicksburg, where thousands lay, with all conceivable sorts of wounds. several i saw without either arms or legs, having been torn and mangled by shell so that it was impossible to save even a single limb--and yet they lived, and would probably recover. one handsome young man lay on one of the hospital boats who had lost both arms--a most noble specimen of the patient, cheerful, suffering soldier. of this young man the rev. mr. savage writes: "there he lay upon his cot, armless, and knowing that this must be his condition through life; but yet with a cheerful, happy countenance, and not a single word of complaint. i ministered to his wants, and as i cut up fruit in mouthfuls, and put them in his mouth, he would say, 'well, now, how good that is! how kind of you! the lord will bless you for it. i don't see why you are so kind to me. as if any one could be too kind to a man who had suffered such a loss in defense of his country. his soul seemed to be resting peacefully upon jesus amid all his great sufferings. one thing touched me exceedingly: as i spoke of his feelings, the tears coursed down his cheeks and lay upon them. he had no hands with which even to wipe away the tears from his own face; and as i took a handkerchief and tenderly performed this office, that beautiful passage of scripture occurred to me with a force it never did before: 'and god shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.'" near by lay another young man, an officer, mortally wounded--fast breathing his life away--he seemed unconscious of his dying state. i asked the nurse, in a low whisper, if he knew he was dying, but before the nurse could reply, he looked up with a smile, and said: "yes, yes, i know it. praise god! there is not a cloud between my soul and jesus. i am waiting--i--waiting--." these were his last words. a few moments more and his tongue was silent in death. but he's gone to rest in heaven above, to sing his saviour's praise. one of the military agents at nashville relates a most thrilling incident, which he witnessed in a hospital at that place. he says: "last evening, when passing by the post hospital, my attention was arrested by the singing, in rather a loud voice, of 'rally round the flag, boys,' by one of the patients inside. while listening to the beautiful music of that popular song, i observed to a nurse standing in the door-way, that the person singing must be in a very merry mood, and could not be very sick. 'you are mistaken, sir,' said he; 'the poor fellow engaged in singing that good old song is now grappling with death--has been dying all day. i am his nurse,' he continued, 'and the scene so affected me that i was obliged to leave the room. he is just about breathing his last.' "i stepped into the ward, and true enough, the brave man was near his end. his eyes were already fixed in death. he was struggling with all his remaining strength against the grim monster, while at the same time there gushed forth from his patriotic soul incoherently the words: 'rally round the flag, boys,' which had so often cheered him through his weary march, and braced him up when entering the field of blood in defense of his country. finally he sank away into his death-slumber, and joined his maker's command, that is marching onward to that far-off, better land. the last audible sound that escaped his lips was, 'rally boys, rally once again!' as his eyes were closing, some dozen of his comrades joined in a solemn, yet beautiful hymn, appropriate to the occasion. take it altogether, this was one of the most affecting scenes i have ever witnessed in a hospital. it drew tears copiously from near one hundred of us. it occurred in the large ward which occupies the entire body of the church on cherry street. the deceased was an illinoisan, and had been wounded in one of the recent skirmishes." i noticed in the western department that the chaplains were much more faithful to their trust, and attentive to the sick and wounded, than the chaplains in the army of the potomac--taking them as a class. one man in speaking of his chaplain, said: "he is one of the best men in the world; he has a temperance meeting once a week, a prayer meeting twice a week, and other meetings as he is able to hold them; and then he labors personally among the men. he also comforts the sick and dying. i saw him with one of our comrades before he died, watching and praying with him; and when he died, he closed his eyes and prepared him for the grave with his own hands." another said: "over at frederickstown, as our lines were beginning to give way, and many thought the day was lost, our chaplain stepped right out from the ranks, between us and the enemy's lines, knelt down upon the ground, and lifted up his voice in most earnest prayer to god for divine help in that hour of need. i never felt so in all my life as i did at that moment. an inspiration, as from god, seemed to seize us all; we rallied, charged, drove the enemy before us, and gained the important victory at frederickstown, which perhaps has saved to us the state of mississippi." and yet another soldier gave testimony like the following, with regard to a chaplain who had followed his regiment through every battle in which it had participated. said he: "he was with us day after day, and as soon as a man fell wounded, he would take him up in his arms and carry him out where the surgeon could take care of him; and the last day i saw him, his clothes, from head to foot, were literally dripping with the blood of dead and wounded men that he had carried from the battle-field." this noble chaplain reminds me of a brave soldier in the army of the potomac, who was in the hottest of the battle at antietam, where the bullets were sweeping like death-hail through the ranks. the line wavered; there were strong symptoms of falling back on the part of his regiment. this man rushed toward the color-bearer, who stood hesitating, seized the standard and advanced with firm and rapid step several paces in front of the foremost man; then thrusting down the flag-staff into the ground he looked up at the banner, then at the wavering line, and said--"there, boys, come up to that!" chapter xxvi. a unionist from the rebel army--his testimony--southern hospitals--patriotism--female recruiting--crinoline--"sweet little man"--confederate system--north and south contrasted--rebel impressment--brothers' cruelty--dying for the union--fate of a tennessee patriot--on the mississippi--invisible attraction--an important question--moral sublimity--contraband's jubilee. at one of the hospitals near vicksburg i met a man who had served a year in the confederate army, having been conscripted by the rebels, and remained that length of time before he found an opportunity to escape. he was an educated, and highly intelligent young man, and it was deeply interesting to listen to his account of the southern side of this rebellion. he told me that the southern people, and especially the ladies, were much more patriotic than the people of the north. after a battle, the citizens, both men and women, come with one accord to assist in taking care of the wounded; bringing with them, gratuitously, every article of comfort and convenience that their means will admit, and their patriotism suggest. farmers come to the hospitals with loads of provisions, and the women come with fruits, wines, jellies, etc., and cheerfully submit to the hardships and fatigue of hospital labor without the slightest remuneration. said he: "the women down south are the best recruiting officers--for they absolutely refuse to tolerate, or admit to their society, any young man who refuses to enlist; and very often send their lovers, who have not enlisted, skirts and crinoline, with a note attached, suggesting the appropriateness of such a costume unless they donned the confederate uniform at once." i have often thought of this trait of the southern ladies' character, and contrasted it with the flattering receptions so lavishly bestowed upon our able-bodied "home guards," by the new-england fair ones who profess to love the old flag and despise its enemies. and i have wondered if an extensive donation of "crinoline" would not be more effectual in filling up our ranks, than graceful bows and bewitching smiles. and i would mildly suggest that each package of crinoline be accompanied by the following appropriate lines: now, while our soldiers are fighting our battles, each at his post to do all that he can, down among rebels and contraband chattels, what are _you_ doing, my sweet little man? all the brave boys under canvas are sleeping, all of them pressing to march with the van, far from their homes where their sweethearts are weeping; what are _you_ waiting for, sweet little man? you, with the terrible warlike mustaches, fit for a colonel or chief of a clan, you with the waist made for sword-belts and sashes, where are your shoulder-straps, sweet little man? we send you the buttonless garments of woman! cover your face lest it freckle or tan; muster the apron-string guards on the common- that is the corps for the sweet little man. all the fair maidens about him shall cluster, pluck the white feathers from bonnet and fan, make him a plume like a turkey-wing duster- that is the crest for the sweet little man. give him for escort a file of young misses, each of them armed with a deadly rattan, they shall defend him from laughter and hisses aimed by low boys at the sweet little man. and now, while i am contrasting the conduct of the north and south, i may as well give another testimony in favor of the confederate system. the following testimony comes from one who has served in the rebel army in the capacity of surgeon. he says: "the confederate military authorities have complete control of the press, so that nothing is ever allowed to appear in print which can in any way give information to the north or prove a clue to southern movements. in this it appears to me that they have an unspeakable advantage over the north, with its numberless papers and hundreds of correspondents in the loyal army. with what the correspondents tell and surmise, and what the confederates find out through spies and informers of various kinds, they are able to see through many of the plans of the union forces before they are put into execution. no more common remark did i hear than this as officers were reading the northern papers: 'see what d--d fools those yankees are. general a---has left b---for c----. we will cut him off. why the northern generals or the secretary of war tolerate this freedom of news we cannot imagine.'" and he further adds: "every daily paper i have read since i came north has contained information, either by direct statement or implication, by which the enemy can profit. if we meant to play into the hands of the rebels, we could hardly do it more successfully than our papers are doing it daily. sure am i that if a southern paper contained such information of their movements as do the northern of ours, the editor's neck would not be safe an hour. but some will say: 'we often see information quoted from the southern papers of their movements.' never, until the movement has been carried out. it is always safe to conclude, if you see in a southern paper any statement with regard to the movement of troops, or that the army is about to do a certain thing, that it will not be done, but something different." freedom of opinion and of the press is certainly a precious boon, but when it endangers the lives of our soldiers and frustrates the plans of our government, surely it is time to adopt measures to control it, just as much as it is necessary to arrest the spies who come within our lines. another relates the following touching incident of the southern style of increasing their army, and punishing offenders: "when the rebels were raising a force in eastern tennessee, two brothers by the name of rowland volunteered. a younger brother was a union man, and refusing to enlist, was seized and forced into the army. he constantly protested against his impressment, but without avail. he then warned them that he would desert the first opportunity, as he would not fight against the cause of right and good government. they were inexorable, and he was torn from his family and hurried to the field. at the battle of fort donaldson, rowland escaped from the rebels in the second day's fight, and immediately joined the loyal army. though now to fight against his own brothers, he felt that he was in a righteous cause, and contending for a worthy end. in the battle of pittsburg landing he was taken prisoner by the very regiment to which he had formerly belonged. this sealed his fate. on his way to corinth several of his old comrades, among them his two brothers, attempted to kill him, one of them nearly running him through with a bayonet. he was, however, rescued by the guard, and brought to camp. three days after the retreating army had reached corinth, general hardee, in whose division was the regiment claiming this man as a deserter, gave orders to have rowland executed. about four o'clock in the afternoon, the same day, some ten thousand tennessee troops were drawn up in two parallel lines, facing inward, three hundred yards apart. the doomed man, surrounded by the guard, detailed from his own regiment to shoot him, marched with a firm step into the middle of the space between the two lines of troops. here his grave was already dug, and a black pine coffin lay beside it. no minister of religion offered to direct his thoughts to a gracious saviour. the sentence was read, and he was asked if he had anything to say why it should not be executed. he spoke in a firm, decided tone, in a voice which could be heard by many hundreds, and nearly in the following words: 'fellow-soldiers, tennesseeans--i was forced into southern service against my will, and against my conscience. i told them i would desert the first opportunity i found, and i did it. i was always a union man, and never denied it; and i joined the union army to do all the damage i could to the confederates. i believe the union cause is right, and will triumph. they can kill me but once, and i am not afraid to die in a good cause. my only request is, that you let my wife and family know that i died in supporting my principles. my brothers there would shoot me if they had a chance, but i forgive them. now shoot me through the heart, that i may die instantly.' "after rowland had ceased to speak, he took off hat, coat and neck-tie, and laying his hand on his heart, he said, "aim here." the sergeant of the guard advanced to tie his hands and blindfold him. he asked the privilege of standing untied, but the request was not granted. his eyes were bandaged, he knelt upon his coffin and engaged in prayer for several minutes, and then said he was ready. the lieutenant of the guard then gave the word, 'fire!' and twenty-four muskets were discharged. when the smoke lifted, the body had fallen backward, and was still. several bullets had passed through his head, and some through his heart. his body was tumbled into the rough pine box, and was buried by the men who shot him." such was the fate of a tennessee patriot, who was not afraid to declare his love for the union, and his faith in its final triumph, in the very presence of some of the leading traitors, and of thousands of his rebellious countrymen, a moment, before sealing his patriotism with his blood. on board of a transport, on the mississippi river, as we glided toward our destination, i sat quietly listening to the variety of topics which was being discussed around me, until a peculiarly sweet voice caused me to turn and look in the direction from whence it proceeded. reader, has your heart ever been taken by storm, in consequence of the mere intonations of a voice--ere you beheld the individual who gave them utterance? on this occasion, i turned and saw "one of god's images cut in ebony." time had wrinkled his face, and the frosts of four-score winters had whitened his woolly locks, palsied his limbs, and dimmed his vision. he had been a slave all his life, and now, at the eleventh hour, when "the silver cord was almost loosed, and the golden bowl well nigh broken," he was liberated from bondage, and was rejoicing in freedom from slavery, and in that freedom wherewith christ makes his children free. by some invisible attraction, a large crowd gathered around this old, decrepid slave, and every eye was fixed upon his sable withered face, as he gave a brief and touching history of his slave life. when he had finished, the soldiers eagerly began to ask questions--but suddenly the old colored man turned querist, and raising himself up, and leaning forward toward the crowd, he asked, in a voice strangely thrilling and solemn, "are any of you soldiers of the lord jesus christ?" one looked at another with evident embarrassment; but at length some one stammered out--"we don't know exactly; that is a hard question, uncle." "oh no," said he, "dat is not a hard question--if you be soldiers of christ you _know_ it, you must know it; de lord does not do his work so poorly dat his people don't know when it's done. now jes' let me say a word more: dear soldiers--before eber you lebe dis boat--before eber you go into anoder battle--enlist for jesus; become soldiers ob de blessed redeemer, and you are safe; safe when de battle rages, safe when de chills ob death come, safe when de world's on fire." one of the men, desirous of changing the conversation, said: "uncle, are you blind?" he replied: "oh no, bless de lord, i am not blind to de tings ob de spirit. i see by an eye ob faith my blessed saviour sitting at de right hand ob god, and i'll soon see him more clearly, for jesus loves dis old blind darkie, and will soon take him home." now, when we talk of moral sublimity we are apt to point to alexander conquering the world, to hannibal surmounting the alps, to cã¦sar crossing the rubicon, or to lawrence wrapping himself in the american flag and crying "don't give up the ship!" but in my opinion here was a specimen of moral sublimity equal to anything that ever graced the pages of history or was ever exhibited upon a battle-field--a poor old, blind, palsied slave, resting upon the "rock of ages," while the waves of affliction dashed like mountains at his feet; yet, looking up to heaven, and trusting in the great and precious promises, he gave glory to god, and triumphed over pain and disease, rejoicing even in tribulation. while the old slave was talking to the soldiers a number of young darkies came forward, and when the conversation ceased they all struck up the following piece, and sang it with good effect: oh, praise an' tanks! de lord he come to set de people free; an' massa tink it day ob doom, an' we ob jubilee. de lord dat heap de red sea waves, he jes' as strong as den; he say de word--we las' night slaves, to-day de lord's free men. chorus--de yam will grow, de cotton blow, we'll hab de rice an' corn, o nebber you fear if nebber you hear de driber blow his horn. ole massa on his trabbles gone he lebe de land behind; de lord's breff blow him furder on, like corn-shuck in de wind. we own de hoe, we own de plow, we own de hands dat hold; we sell de pig, we sell de cow, but neber chile be sold. chorus--de yam will grow, etc. we know de promise nebber fail, an' nebber lie de word; so, like de 'postles in de jail, we waited for de lord. an' now he open ebery door, an' trow away de key, he tink we lub him so before, we lub him better free. chorus--de yam will grow, etc. then a collection was taken up among the soldiers and presented to the old blind colored man, who wept with delight as he received it, for said he--"i hab no home, no money, an' no friend, but de lord jesus." chapter xxvii. arrival at vicksburg--its surroundings--grant's army--assault on the rebel works--the seven color-bearers--pemberton's harangue--in the trenches--sufferings of the wounded--pemberton's proposed capitulation--grant's reply--terms of surrender--occupation of the city--loss of the enemy--complimentary letter--grant's success--attachment of his soldiers--"fighting dick"--gold lace--rebel sufferings--sights in vicksburg--incidents of the siege--cave life. our troops at length joined general grant's army near vicksburg, where those veterans had been digging and fighting so many weeks. the city of vicksburg is nestled among numerous terraced hills, and would under other circumstances present a magnificent and romantic appearance; but i could not at that time realize its beauty, for the knowledge of the sufferings and distress of thousands within its walls detracted materially from its outward grandeur. the enemy's works had consisted of a series of redoubts extending from haines' bluff to the warrenton road, a distance of some ten miles. it was a vast plateau, upon which a multitude of little hills seemed to have been sown broadcast, giving the enemy a position from which it could sweep every neighboring crest and enfilade every approach. but the rebels had already been driven from this position after a severe struggle. on the twenty-second of may, at two o'clock in the morning, heavy guns were opened upon the rebel works, and continued until ten o'clock, when a desperate assault was made by three corps moving simultaneously. after a severe engagement and heavy loss the flag of the seventh missouri was planted on one of the rebel parapets, after seven color-bearers had been shot down. after this contest the rebel general, pemberton, addressed his men as follows: "you have heard that i was incompetent and a traitor, and that it was my intention to sell vicksburg. follow me, and you will see the cost at which i will sell vicksburg. when the last pound of beef, bacon and flour, the last grain of corn, the last cow and hog, horse and dog shall have been consumed, and the last man shall have perished in the trenches, then, and not till then, will i sell vicksburg." it became evident that the works could not be carried by assault, and that nothing but a regular siege could reduce the fortifications. while the siege was in progress our soldiers endured hardships, privations and sufferings which words can but inadequately express. our men were closely packed in the trenches, often in water to the knees, and not daring to lift their heads above the brow of the rifle pits, as the rebel sharpshooters lost no time in saluting every unfortunate head which made its appearance above ground. the sufferings of the wounded were extreme. those who were wounded during the day in the trenches nearest the city could not be removed until the curtain of night fell upon the scene and screened them from the vigilant eye of the enemy. general grant steadily approached the doomed city by means of saps and mines, and continued to blow up their defenses, until it was evident that another day's work would complete the capture of the city. such was the position of affairs on the third of july, when general pemberton proposed an armistice and capitulation. major general bowen, of the confederate army, was the bearer of a despatch to general grant, under a flag of truce, proposing the surrender of the city, which was as follows: headquarters, vicksburg, _july 3d, 1863_. major general grant, commanding united states forces: general--i have the honor to propose to you an armistice for--hours, with a view of arranging terms for the capitulation of vicksburg. to this end, if agreeable to you, i will appoint three commissioners to meet a like number to be named by yourself, at such place and hour to-day as you may find convenient. i make this proposition to save the farther effusion of blood, which must otherwise be shed to a frightful extent, feeling myself fully able to maintain my position for a yet indefinite period. this communication will be handed to you, under flag of truce, by major general james bowen. very respectfully, your obedient servant, j. c. pemberton. to which general grant replied: headquarters, department of tennessee, in the field, near vicksburg, _july 3d, 1863_. lieutenant general j. c. pemberton, commanding confederate forces, etc.: general--your note of this date, just received, proposes an armistice of several hours for the purpose of arranging terms of capitulation, through commissioners to be appointed, etc. the effusion of blood you propose stopping by this course can be ended at any time you may choose by an unconditional surrender of the city and garrison. men who have shown so much endurance and courage as those now in vicksburg will always challenge the respect of an adversary, and, i can assure you, will be treated with all the respect due them as prisoners of war. i do not favor the proposition of appointing commissioners to arrange terms of capitulation, because i have no other terms than those indicated above. i am, general, very respectfully, your obedient servant, u. s. grant. then the following document was made out by general grant, and submitted for acceptance: general--in conformity with the agreement of this afternoon, i will submit the following proposition for the surrender of the city of vicksburg, public stores, etc. on your accepting the terms proposed, i will march in one division, as a guard, and take possession at eight o'clock to-morrow morning. as soon as paroles can be made out and signed by the officers and men, you will be allowed to march out of our lines, the officers taking with them their regimental clothing, and staff, field and cavalry officers, one horse each. the rank and file will be allowed all their clothing, but no other property. if these conditions are accepted, any amount of rations you may deem necessary can be taken from the stores you now have, and also the necessary cooking utensils for preparing them; thirty wagons also, counting two two-horse or mule teams as one. you will be allowed to transport such articles as cannot be carried along. the same conditions will be allowed to all sick and wounded officers and privates as fast as they become able to travel. the paroles for these latter must be signed, however, whilst officers are present authorized to sign the roll of prisoners. after some further correspondence on both sides this proposition was accepted, and on the fourth of july the federals took possession of the city of vicksburg. a paragraph from general grant's official despatch will best explain the result of his campaign, together with the surrender of vicksburg: "the defeat of the enemy in five battles outside of vicksburg, the occupation of jackson, the capital of the state of mississippi, and the capture of vicksburg and its garrison and munitions of war, a loss to the enemy of thirty-seven thousand prisoners, among whom were fifteen general officers, at least ten thousand killed and wounded, and among the killed generals tracy, tilghman and green, and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of stragglers, who can never be collected and organized. arms and munitions of war for an army of sixty thousand have fallen into our hands, besides a large amount of other public property, consisting of railroads, locomotives, cars, steamboats, cotton, etc., and much was destroyed to prevent our capturing it." on the thirteenth of july the president sent an autograph letter to general grant, of which the following is a copy: executive mansion, washington, _july 13th, 1863_. to major general grant: my dear general--i do not remember that you and i ever met personally. i write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for the almost inestimable service you have done the country. i wish to say a word further. when you first reached the vicinity of vicksburg i thought you should do what you finally did--march the troops across the neck, run the batteries with the transports, and thus go below; and i never had any faith, except a general hope that you knew better than i, that the yazoo pass expedition and the like could succeed. when you got below and took port gipson, grand gulf and vicinity, i thought you should go down the river and join banks; and when you turned northward, east of the big black, i feared it was a mistake. i now wish to make a personal acknowledgment that you were right and i was wrong. yours, very truly, a. lincoln. it is stated on good authority that at the time the news of grant's success reached the president, there were several gentlemen present some of whom had just been informing mr. lincoln that there were great complaints against general grant with regard to his intemperate habits. after reading the telegram announcing the fall of vicksburg, the president turned to his anxious friends of the temperance question and said: "so i understand grant drinks whiskey to excess?" "yes," was the reply. "what whiskey does he drink?" "what whiskey?" doubtfully queried his hearers. "yes. is it bourbon or monongahela?" "why do you ask, mr. president?" "because if it makes him win victories like that at vicksburg, i will send a demijohn of the same kind to every general in the army." it is also stated on the same authority that general grant is strictly temperate. his men are almost as much attached to him as are the army of the potomac to general mcclellan. he is a true soldier, and shares all the hardships with his men, sleeping on the ground in the open air, and eating hard bread and salt pork with as good a grace as any private soldier. he seldom wears a sword, except when absolutely necessary, and frequently wears a semi-military coat and low crowned hat. the mistakes which people used to make, when coming to headquarters to see the general, often reminded me of a genuine anecdote which is told of general richardson, or "fighting dick," as we familiarly called him. it occurred when the troops were encamped near washington, and was as follows: the general was sauntering along toward a fort, which was in course of erection not far from headquarters, dressed in his usual uniform for fatigue, namely: citizen's pants, undress coat, and an old straw hat which had once been white, but was now two or three shades nearer the general's own complexion. along came one of those dashing city staff officers, in white gloves, and trimmed off with gold lace to the very extreme of military regulations. he was in search of general richardson, but did not know him personally. reining up his horse some little distance from the general, he shouted: "hallo, old fellow! can you tell me where general richardson's headquarters are?" the general pointed out the tent to him, and the young officer went dashing along, without ever saying "thank you." the general then turned on his heel and went back to his tent, where he found the officer making a fuss because there was no orderly to hold his horse. turning to general r., as he came up, he said: "won't you hold my horse while i find general r.?" "oh yes, certainly," said he. after hitching the horse to a post near by for that purpose, the general walked into the tent, and, confronting young pomposity, he said in his peculiar twang, "well, sir, what will you have?" when the federal troops marched into vicksburg, what a heart-sickening sight it presented; the half-famished inhabitants had crawled from their dens and caves in the earth, to find their houses demolished by shell, and all their pleasant places laid waste. but the appearance of the soldiers as they came from the entrenchments covered with mud and bespattered with the blood of their comrades who had been killed or wounded, would have touched a heart of stone. the poor horses, and mules, too, were a sad sight, for they had fared even worse than the soldiers--for there was no place of safety for them--not even entrenchments, and they had scarcely anything at all to eat for weeks, except mulberry leaves. one man, in speaking of the state of affairs in the city, during the siege, said: "the terror of the women and children, their constant screams and wailings over the dead bodies of their friends, mingled as they were with the shrieks of bursting shell, and the pitiful groans of the dying, was enough to appall the stoutest heart." and others said it was a strange fact that the women could not venture out of their caves a moment without either being killed or wounded, while the men and officers walked or rode about with but little loss of life comparatively. a lady says: "sitting in my cave, one evening, i heard the most heart-rending shrieks and groans, and upon making inquiry, i was told that a mother had taken her child into a cave about a hundred yards from us, and having laid it on its little bed, as the poor woman thought, in safety, she took her seat near the entrance of the cave. a mortar-shell came rushing through the air, and fell upon the cave, and bursting in the ground entered the cave; a fragment of the shell mashed the head of the little sleeper, crushing out the young life, and leaving the distracted mother to pierce the heavens with her cries of agony." how blightingly the hand of war lay upon that once flourishing city! the closed and desolate houses, the gardens with open gates, and the poor, starving mules, standing amid the flowers, picking off every green leaf, to allay their hunger, presented a sad picture. i will give the following quotation as a specimen of cave life in vicksburg: "i was sitting near the entrance of my cave about five o'clock in the afternoon, when the bombardment commenced more furiously than usual, the shells falling thickly around us, causing vast columns of earth to fly upward, mingled with smoke. as usual, i was uncertain whether to remain within, or to run out. as the rocking and trembling of the earth was distinctly felt, and the explosions alarmingly near, i stood within the mouth of the cave ready to make my escape, should one chance to fall above our domicile. "in my anxiety i was startled by the shouts of the servants, and a most fearful jar and rocking of the earth, followed by a deafening explosion, such as i had never heard before. the cave filled instantly with smoke and dust. i stood there, with a tingling, prickling sensation in my head, hands and feet, and with confused brain. yet alive! was the first glad thought that came to me--child, servants, all here, and saved! "i stepped out and found a group of persons before my cave, looking anxiously for me, and lying all around were freshly-torn rose bushes, arborvitã¦ trees, large clods of earth, splinters, and pieces of plank. "a mortar-shell had struck the corner of the cave; fortunately, so near the brow of the hill, that it had gone obliquely into the earth, exploding as it went, breaking large masses from the side of the hill--tearing away the fence, the shrubbery and flowers--sweeping all like an avalanche down near the entrance of my poor refuge. "on another occasion i sat reading in safety, i imagined, when the unmistakable whirring of parrott shells told us that the battery we so much dreaded had opened from the entrenchments. i ran to the entrance to call the servants in. immediately after they entered a shell struck the earth a few feet from the entrance, burying itself without exploding. "a man came in, much frightened, and asked permission to remain until the danger was over. he had been there but a short time when a parrott shell came whirling in at the entrance and fell in the center of the cave before us, and lay there, the fuse still smoking. "our eyes were fastened upon that terrible missile of death as by the fascination of a serpent, while we expected every moment that the terrific explosion would take place. i pressed my child closer to my heart and drew nearer the wall. our fate seemed certain--our doom was sealed. "just at this dreadful moment, george, a negro boy, rushed forward, seized the shell, and threw it into the street, then ran swiftly in the opposite direction. "fortunately the fuse became extinguished and the shell fell harmless to the ground, and is still looked upon as a monument of terror." chapter xxviii. western gibraltar--the "lead miners"--the palmetto exchanged for the stars and stripes--enthusiasm of troops--sufferings forgotten--i am attacked by fever--unfit for duty--"vicksburg is ours"--spirit yearnings--"rock me to sleep mother"--imposition of steamboat officers--grant's care for his men--bursting of a shell in camp--consequences--speechless agony--i am released from duty--my trip to cairo--miss mary safford--arrival at washington. it was a proud day for the union army when general u. s. grant marched his victorious troops into the rebel sebastopol--or "the western gibraltar," as the rebels were pleased to term it. the troops marched in triumphantly, the forty-fifth illinois, the "lead miners," leading the van, and as they halted in front of the fine white marble court house, and flung out the national banner to the breeze, and planted the battle-worn flags bearing the dear old stars and stripes--where the "palmetto" had so recently floated--then went up tremendous shouts of triumphant and enthusiastic cheers, which were caught up and re-echoed by the advancing troops until all was one wild scene of joy; and the devastated city and its miserable inhabitants were forgotten in the triumph of the hour. this excitement proved too much for me, as i had been suffering from fever for several days previous, and had risen from my cot and mounted my horse for the purpose of witnessing the crowning act of the campaign. now it was over, and i was exhausted and weak as a child. i was urged to go to a hospital, but refused; yet at length i was obliged to report myself unfit for duty, but still persisted in sitting up most of the time. oh what dreary days and nights i passed in that dilapidated city! a slow fever had fastened itself upon me, and in spite of all my fortitude and determination to shake it off, i was each day becoming more surely its victim. i could not bear the shouts of the men, or their songs of triumph which rung out upon every breeze--one of which i can never forget, as i heard it sung until my poor brain was distracted, and in my hours of delirium i kept repeating "vicksburg is ours," "vicksburg is ours," in a manner more amusing than musical. i will here quote a few verses which i think are the same: hark! borne upon the southern breeze, as whispers breathed above the trees, or as the swell from off the seas, in summer showers, fall softly on the ears of men strains sweetly indistinct, and then- hist! listen! catch the sound again- "vicksburg is ours!" o'er sea-waves beating on the shore, 'bove the thunder-storm and tempest o'er, o'er cataracts in headlong roar, high, high it towers. o'er all the breastworks and the moats, the starry flag in triumph floats, and heroes thunder from' their throats "vicksburg is ours!" spread all your banners in the sky, the sword of victory gleams on high, our conquering eagles upward fly, and kiss the stars; for liberty the gods awake, and hurl the shattered foes a wreck, the northern arms make strong to break the southern bars. all honor to the brave and true who fought the bloody battles through, and from the ramparts victory drew where vicksburg cowers; and o'er the trenches, o'er the slain, through iron hail and leaden rain, still plunging onward, might and main, made vicksburg ours. i think i realized, in those hours of feverish restlessness and pain, the heart-yearnings for the touch of a mother's cool hand upon my brow, which i had so often heard the poor sick and wounded soldiers speak of. oh how i longed for one gentle caress from her loving hand! and when i would sometimes fall into a quiet slumber, and forget my surroundings, i would often wake up and imagine my mother sat beside me, and would only realize my sad mistake when looking in the direction i supposed her to be, there would be seen some great bearded soldier, wrapped up in an overcoat, smoking his pipe. the following lines in some measure express my spirit-longings for the presence of my mother in those nights of torturing fever and days of languor and despondency: backward, turn backward, o time, in your flight; make me a child again, just for to-night! mother, o come from the far-distant shore, take me again to your heart as of yore; over my slumbers your loving watch keep- rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. * * * * * backward, flow backward, o tide of the years! i am so weary of toils and of tears, toil without recompense--tears all in vain- take them, and give me my childhood again. i have grown weary of warfare and strife, weary of bartering my health and my life, weary of sowing for others to reap- rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. after the fall of vicksburg a large proportion of the soldiers in that vicinity, who had fought so bravely, endured so many hardships, and lain in the entrenchments so many weary weeks during the siege, were permitted to visit their homes on furlough. in view of this general grant issued a special order forbidding steamboat officers to charge more than five dollars to enlisted men, and seven dollars to officers, as fare between vicksburg and cairo. notwithstanding this order the captains of steamers were in the habit of charging from fifteen to thirty dollars apiece. on one occasion one of those steamers had on board an unusually large number of soldiers, said to be over one thousand enlisted men and nearly two hundred and fifty officers, _en route_ for home on leave of absence; and all had paid from twenty to twenty-five dollars each. but just as the boat was about to push off from the wharf an order came from general grant requiring the money to be refunded to men and officers over and above the stipulated sum mentioned in a previous order, or the captain to have his boat confiscated and submit himself to imprisonment for disobedience of orders. of course the captain handed over the money, and amid cheers for general grant, sarcastic smiles, and many amusing and insinuating speeches and doubtful compliments to the captain, the men pocketed the recovered "greenbacks," and went on their way rejoicing. when the general was told of the imposition practiced by the boatmen on his soldiers, he replied: "i will teach them, if they need the lesson, that the men who have periled their lives to open the mississippi for their benefit cannot be imposed upon with impunity." a noble trait in the character of this brave general is that he looks after the welfare of his men as one who has to give an account of his stewardship, or of those intrusted to his care. i remained in my tent for several days, not being able to walk about, or scarcely able to sit up. i was startled one day from my usual quietude by the bursting of a shell which had lain in front of my tent, and from which no danger was apprehended; yet it burst at a moment when a number of soldiers were gathered round it--and oh, what sad havoc it made of those cheerful, happy boys of a moment previous! two of them were killed instantly and four were wounded seriously, and the tent where i lay was cut in several places with fragments of shell, the tent poles knocked out of their places, and the tent filled with dust and smoke. [illustration: explosion of a shell--page 358.] one poor colored boy had one of his hands torn off at the wrist; and of all the wounded that i have ever seen i never heard such unearthly yells and unceasing lamentations as that boy poured forth night and day; ether and chloroform were alike unavailing in hushing the cries of the poor sufferer. at length the voice began to grow weaker, and soon afterwards ceased altogether; and upon making inquiry i found he had died groaning and crying until his voice was hushed in death. the mother and sister of one of the soldiers who was killed by the explosion of the shell arrived a short time after the accident occurred, and it was truly a most pitiful sight to see the speechless grief of those stricken ones as they sat beside the senseless clay of that beloved son and brother. all my soldierly qualities seemed to have fled, and i was again a poor, cowardly, nervous, whining woman; and as if to make up for lost time, and to give vent to my long pent up feelings, i could do nothing but weep hour after hour, until it would seem that my head was literally a fountain of tears and my heart one great burden of sorrow. all the horrid scenes that i had witnessed during the past two years seemed now before me with vivid distinctness, and i could think of nothing else. it was under these circumstances that i made up my mind to leave the army; and when once my mind is made up on any subject i am very apt to act at once upon that decision. so it was in this case. i sent for the surgeon and told him i was not able to remain longer--that i would certainly die if i did not leave immediately. the good old surgeon concurred in my opinion, and made out a certificate of disability, and i was forthwith released from further duty as "nurse and spy" in the federal army. the very next day i embarked for cairo, and on my arrival there i procured female attire, and laid aside forever (perhaps) my military uniform; but i had become so accustomed to it that i parted with it with much reluctance. while in cairo i had the pleasure of seeing the celebrated miss mary safford, of whom so much has been said and written. one writer gives the following account of her, which is correct with regard to personal appearance, and i have no doubt is correct throughout: "i cannot close this letter without a passing word in regard to one whose name is mentioned by thousands of our soldiers with gratitude and blessing. "miss mary safford is a resident of this town, whose life, since the beginning of this war, has been devoted to the amelioration of the soldier's lot and his comfort in the hospital. "she is a young lady, _petite_ in figure, unpretending, but highly cultivated, by no means officious, and so wholly unconscious of her excellencies and the great work that she is achieving, that i fear this public allusion to her may pain her modest nature. "her sweet young face, full of benevolence, her pleasant voice and winning manner, install her in every one's heart directly; and the more one sees of her the more they admire her great soul and noble nature. "not a day elapses but she is found in the hospitals, unless indeed she is absent on an errand of mercy up the tennessee, or to the hospitals in kentucky. "every sick and wounded soldier in cairo knows and loves her, and, as she enters the ward, every pale face brightens at her approach. as she passes along she inquires of each one how he had passed the night, if he is well supplied with books and tracts, and if there is anything she can do for him. all tell her their story frankly--the old man old enough to be her father, and the boy in his teens, all confide in her. "for one she must write a letter to his friend at home; she must sit down and read at the cot of another; must procure, if the surgeon will allow it, this or that article of food for a third; must soothe and encourage a fourth who desponds and is ready to give up his hold on life; must pray for a fifth who is afraid to die, and wrestle for him till light shines through the dark valley; and so on, varied as may be the personal or spiritual wants of the sufferers. "surgeons, nurses, medical directors, and army officers, are all her true friends, and so judicious and trustworthy is she, that the chicago sanitary commission have given her _carte blanche_ to draw on their stores at cairo for anything she may need in her errands of mercy in the hospitals. "she is performing a noble work, and that too in the most quiet and unassuming manner." from cairo i went to washington, where i spent several weeks, until i recovered from my fever and was able to endure the fatigue of traveling. then after visiting the hospitals once more, and bidding farewell to old scenes and associations, i returned to my friends to recruit my shattered health. chapter xxix. review of hospital and camp life--questions answered--behind the scenes--blessed employment--living past scenes over again--my most important labors--mother and son--strange power of sympathy--hero's repose--officers and men--the bravest are kindest--general sedgwick--battle scenes--mr. alvord's description--volunteer surgeons--heart sickening sights--an awful picture--female nurses--sentimental--patriotic--medical department--young surgeons--anecdotes. since i returned to new england there have been numerous questions asked me with regard to hospitals, camp life, etc., which have not been fully answered in the preceding narrative, and i have thought that perhaps it would not be out of place to devote a chapter to that particular object. one great question is: "do the soldiers get the clothing and delicacies which we send them--or is it true that the surgeons, officers and nurses appropriate them to their own use?" in reply to this question i dare not assert that all the things which are sent to the soldiers are faithfully distributed, and reach the individuals for whom they were intended. but i have no hesitation in saying that i have reason to believe that the cases are very rare where surgeons or nurses tamper with those articles sent for the comfort of the sick and wounded. if the ladies of the soldiers' aid societies and other benevolent organizations could have seen even the quantity which i have seen with my own eyes distributed, and the smile of gratitude with which those supplies are welcomed by the sufferers, they would think that they were amply rewarded for all their labor in preparing them. just let those benevolent hearted ladies imagine themselves in my place for a single day; removing blood-clotted and stiffened woollen garments from ghastly wounds, and after applying the sponge and water remedy, replacing those coarse, rough shirts by nice, cool, clean linen ones, then dress the wounds with those soft white bandages and lint; take from the express box sheet after sheet, and dainty little pillows with their snowy cases, until you have the entire hospital supplied and every cot looking clean and inviting to the weary, wounded men--then as they are carried and laid upon those comfortable beds, you will often see the tears of gratitude gush forth, and hear the earnest "god bless the benevolent ladies who send us these comforts." then, after the washing and clothing process is gone through with, the nice wine or boston crackers are brought forward, preserved fruits, wines, jellies, etc., and distributed as the different cases may require. i have spent whole days in this blessed employment without realizing weariness or fatigue, so completely absorbed would i become in my work, and so rejoiced in having those comforts provided for our brave, suffering soldiers. time and again, since i have been engaged in writing this little narrative, i have thrown down my pen, closed my eyes, and lived over again those hours which i spent in ministering to the wants of those noble men, and have longed to go back and engage in the same duties once more. i look back now upon my hospital labors as being the most important and interesting in my life's history. the many touching incidents which come to my mind as i recall those thrilling scenes make me feel as if i should never be satisfied until i had recorded them all, so that they might never be forgotten. one occurs to my mind now which i must not omit: "in one of the fierce engagements with the rebels near mechanicsville, a young lieutenant of a rhode island battery had his right foot so shattered by a fragment of shell that on reaching washington, after one of those horrible ambulance rides, and a journey of a week's duration, he was obliged to undergo amputation. "he telegraphed home, hundreds of miles away, that all was going on well, and with a soldier's fortitude composed his mind and determined to bear his sufferings alone. unknown to him, however, his mother--one of those dear reserves of the army--hastened up to join the main force. she reached the city at midnight, and hastened to the hospital, but her son being in such a critical condition, the nurses would have kept her from him until morning. one sat by his side fanning him as he slept, her hand on the feeble, fluctuating pulsations which foreboded sad results. but what woman's heart could resist the pleading of a mother at such a moment? in the darkness she was finally allowed to glide in and take the nurse's place at his side. she touched his pulse as the nurse had done. not a word had been spoken; but the sleeping boy opened his eyes and said: 'that feels like my mother's hand! who is this beside me? it is my mother; turn up the gas and let me see mother!' the two loving faces met in one long, joyful, sobbing embrace, and the fondness pent up in each heart wept forth its own language. "the gallant fellow underwent operation after operation, and at last, when death drew near, and he was told by tearful friends that it only remained to make him comfortable, he said he 'had looked death in the face too many times to be afraid now,' and died as gallantly as did the men of the cumberland." when a hero goes unto his last repose, when earth's trump of fame shall wake him no more; when in the heavenly land another soul doth stand, who perished for a nation ere he reached the shore; whose eyes should sorrow dim? say, who should mourn for him? mourn for the traitor--mourn when honor is forsworn; when the base wretch sells his land for gold, stands up unblushingly and boasts his perfidy, then, then, o patriots! let your grief be told but when god's soldier yieldeth up his breath, o mourn ye not for him! it is not death! another question is frequently asked me--"are not the private soldiers cruelly treated by the officers?" i never knew but a very few instances of it, and then it was invariably by mean, cowardly officers, who were not fit to be in command of so many mules. i have always noticed that the bravest and best fighting officers are the kindest and most forbearing toward their men. an interesting anecdote is told of the late brave general sedgwick, which illustrates this fact: "one day, while on a march, one of our best soldiers had fallen exhausted by fatigue and illness, and lay helpless in the road, when an officer came dashing along in evident haste to join his staff in advance. "it was pitiable to see the effort the poor boy made to drag his unwilling limbs out of the road. he struggled up only to sink back with a look that asked only the privilege of lying there undisturbed to die. "in an instant he found his head pillowed on an arm as gentle as his far-away mother's might have been, and a face bent over him expressive of the deepest pity. "it is characteristic of our brave boys that they say but little. the uncomplaining words of the soldier in this instance were few, but understood. "the officer raised him in his arms and placed him in his own saddle, supporting the limp and swaying figure by one firm arm, while with the other he curbed the step of his impatient horse to a gentler pace. "for two miles, without a gesture of impatience, he traveled in this tedious way, until he reached an ambulance train and placed the sick man in one of the ambulances. "this was our noble sedgwick--our brave general of the sixth corps--pressed with great anxieties and knowing the preciousness of every moment. his men used to say: 'we all know that great things are to be done, and well done, when we see that earnest figure in its rough blouse hurrying past, and never have we been disappointed in him. he works incessantly, is unostentatious, and when he appears among us all eyes follow him with outspoken blessings.'" i have often been asked: "have you ever been on a battle-field before the dead and wounded were removed?" "how did it appear?" "please describe one." i have been on many a battle-field, and have often tried to describe the horrible scenes which i there witnessed, but have never yet been able to find language to express half the horrors of such sights as i have seen on those terrible fields. the rev. mr. alvord has furnished us with a vivid description of a battle-field, which i will give for the benefit of those who wish a true and horrifying description of those bloody fields: "to-day i have witnessed more horrible scenes than ever before since i have been in the army. hundreds of wounded had lain since the battle, among rebels, intermingled with heaps of slain--hungering, thirsting, and with wounds inflaming and festering. many had died simply from want of care. their last battle was fought! almost every shattered limb required amputation, so putrid had the wounds become. "i was angry (i think without sin) at your volunteer surgeons. those of the army were too few, and almost exhausted. but squads of volunteers, as is usual, had come on without instruments, and without sense enough to set themselves at work in any way, and without any idea of dressing small wounds. they wanted to see amputation, and so, while hundreds were crying for help, i found five of these gentlemen sitting at their ease, with legs crossed, waiting for their expected reception by the medical director, who was, of course, up to his elbows in work with saw and amputating knife. i invited them to assist me in my labors among the suffering, but they had 'not come to nurse'--they were 'surgeons.' "the disgusting details of the field i need not describe. over miles of shattered forest and torn earth the dead lie, sometimes in _heaps_ and _winrows_--i mean literally! friend and foe, black and white, with distorted features, among mangled and dead horses, trampled in mud, and thrown in all conceivable sorts of places. you can distinctly hear, over the whole field, the hum and hissing of decomposition. of course you can imagine shattered muskets, bayonets, cartridge-boxes, caps, torn clothing, cannon-balls, fragments of shell, broken artillery, etc. i went over it all just before evening, and after a couple of hours turned away in sickening horror from the dreadful sight. i write in the midst of the dead, buried and unburied--in the midst of hospitals full of dying, suffering men, and weary, shattered regiments." this is a very mild illustration of some battle-fields, and yet it presents an awful picture. o god! this land grows rich in loyal blood poured out upon it to its utmost length! the incense of a people's sacrifice- the wrested offering of a people's strength. it is the costliest land beneath the sun! 'tis purchaseless! and scarce a rood but hath its title written clear, and signed in some slain hero's consecrated blood. and not a flower that gems its mellowing soil but thriveth well beneath the holy dew of tears, that ease a nation's straining heart when the lord of battles smites it through and through. now a word about female nurses who go from the north to take care of the soldiers in hospitals. i have said but little upon this point, but could say much, as i have had ample opportunity for observation. many of the noble women who have gone from the new england and other loyal states have done, and are still doing, a work which will engrave their names upon the hearts of the soldiers, as the name of florence nightingale is engraved upon the hearts of her countrymen. it is a strange fact that the more highly cultivated and refined the ladies are, they make all the better nurses. they are sure to submit to inconvenience and privations with a much better grace than those of the lower classes. it is true we have some sentimental young ladies, who go down there and expect to find everything in drawing-room style, with nothing to do but sit and fan handsome young mustached heroes in shoulder-straps, and read poetry, etc.; and on finding the _real_ somewhat different from the _ideal_, which their ardent imaginations had created, they become homesick at once, and declare that they "cannot endure such work as washing private soldiers' dirty faces and combing tangled, matted hair; and, what is more, won't do it." so after making considerable fuss, and trailing round in very long silk skirts for several days, until everybody becomes disgusted, they are politely invited by the surgeon in charge to migrate to some more congenial atmosphere. but the patriotic, whole-souled, educated woman twists up her hair in a "cleared-for-action" sort of style, rolls up the sleeves of her plain cotton dress, and goes to work washing dirty faces, hands and feet, as if she knew just what to do and how to do it. and when she gets through with that part of the programme, she is just as willing to enter upon some new duty, whether it is writing letters for the boys or reading for them, administering medicine or helping to dress wounds. and everything is done so cheerfully that one would think it was really a pleasure instead of a disagreeable task. but the medical department is unquestionably the greatest institution in the whole army. i will not attempt to answer all the questions i have been asked concerning it, but will say that there are many true stories, and some false ones, circulated with regard to that indispensable fraternity. i think i may freely say that there is a shadow of truth in that old story of "whiskey" and "incompetency" which we have so often heard applied to individuals in the medical department, who are intrusted with the treatment, and often the lives of our soldiers. there is a vast difference in surgeons; some are harsh and cruel--whether it is from habit or insensibility i am not prepared to say--but i know the men would face a rebel battery with less forebodings than they do some of our worthy surgeons. there is a class who seem to act upon the principle of "no smart no cure," if we may be allowed to judge from the manner in which they twitch off bandages and the scientific twists and jerks given to shattered limbs. others again are very gentle and tender with the men, and seem to study how to perform the necessary operations with the least possible pain to the patients. but the young surgeons, fresh from the dissecting room, when operating in conjunction with our old western practitioners, forcibly reminded me of the anecdote of the young collegian teaching his grandmother to suck an egg: "we make an incision at the apex and an aperture at the base; then making a vacuum with the tongue and palate, we suffer the contained matter to be protruded into the mouth by atmospheric pressure." "la! how strange!" said his grandmother; "in my day we just made a hole in each end, and then sucked it without half that trouble." i once saw a young surgeon amputate a limb, and i could think of nothing else than of a kennebec yankee whom i once saw carve a thanksgiving turkey; it was his first attempt at carving, and the way in which he disjointed those limbs i shall never forget. chapter xxx. closing incidents--professor lowe's balloon--fitz john porter's adventure--his upward flight--reconnoitering from a dangerous position--cool courage--enthusiastic greeting--an earnest inquirer--a baptism in the army--preaching by moonlight--a magnificent scene--a wedding in camp--gay times--a contrast--hospital in winchester--spirit of revenge--sable heroine--a white darkey--colored soldiers--conclusion. in looking back over the events of the two years which i spent in the army, i see so much worthy of record i scarcely know where to stop. a most thrilling incident occurs to my mind at this moment in connection with professor lowe and his balloon, which i must relate before closing. it took place while mcclellan's army was in front of yorktown. general fitz john porter having been in the habit of making frequent ascensions in company with professor lowe, learned to go aloft alone. one morning he stepped into the car and ordered the cable to be let out with all speed. we saw with surprise that the flurried assistants were sending up the great straining canvas with a single rope attached. the enormous bag was only partially inflated, and the loose folds opened and shut with a sharp report like that of a pistol. noisily, fitfully, the great yellow mass rose toward the sky, the basket rocking like a feather in the breeze. presently a sound came from overhead like the explosion of a shell--the cable had snapped asunder, and the balloon was adrift. all eyes were turned toward the receding car, where general porter sat in his ã¦rial castle, being borne heavenward as fast as if on eagle wings, without the power either to check or guide his upward flight. the whole army was agitated by this unwonted occurrence, and the rebel army evidently partook in the general excitement. lowe's voice could be heard above the confusion and tumult shouting to the soaring hero--"open--the--valve! climb--to--the--netting--and--reach--the valve--rope!" "the valve--the valve!" repeated a multitude of voices, but all in vain, for it was impossible to make him hear. soon the signal corps began to operate, and at last the general was made to understand by signals when it was impossible to reach him by the human voice. he appeared directly over the edge of the car, and then clambered up the netting and reached for the cord, but he was so far above us then he looked no bigger than a great black spider. it was a weird spectacle--that frail, fading object floating in the azure sky, with the miniature boat swinging silently beneath, looking no bigger than a humming-bird's nest; and a hundred thousand brave hearts beneath beating with the wildest excitement and warmest sympathy, yet powerless to render the least assistance to their exalted brother-in-arms. "had the general been floating down the rapids of niagara he could not have been farther from human assistance." we at length saw him descend from the netting and reappear over the edge of the basket, and he seemed to be motioning to the breathless crowd below the story of his failure. soon after the balloon began slowly to descend, and when we next saw him it was with spyglass in hand, reconnoitering the rebel works. shouts of joy and laughter went up from the long lines of spectators as this cool procedure was observed. for a moment it seemed doubtful in which direction the balloon would float; it faltered like an irresolute being, and at length moved reluctantly toward fortress monroe. bursting cheers, half uttered, quivered on every lip. all eyes glistened, and many were dim with tears. but the wayward canvas now turned due west, and was blown rapidly toward the confederate works. its course was fitfully direct, and the wind seemed to veer often, as if contrary currents, conscious of the opportunity, were struggling for the possession of the daring navigator. the south wind held the mastery for awhile, and the balloon passed the federal front amid groans of despair from the soldiers. it kept right on, over sharpshooters, rifle-pits, etc., until it stood directly over the rebel fortifications at yorktown. the cool courage, either of heroism or despair, seemed to seize the general, for turning his tremendous glass upon the ramparts and masked batteries below, he viewed the remote camps, the beleaguered town, the guns of gloucester point, and distant norfolk. had he been reconnoitering from a secure perch on the top of the moon he could not have been more vigilant; and the confederates probably thought this some yankee device to peer into their sanctum in spite of ball or shell. none of their large guns could be brought to bear upon the balloon, but there were some discharges of musketry, which seemed to have no effect whatever, and finally even these demonstrations ceased. both armies were gazing aloft in breathless suspense, while the deliberate general continued to spy out the land. suddenly another change of position, and the air craft plunged and tacked about, and steered rapidly for the federal lines again. making a desperate effort to catch the valve-rope, the general at length succeeded, and giving it a jerk, the balloon came suddenly to the ground; fortunately, however, it struck a tent as it descended, which perhaps saved the general from any serious injuries from the fall. by the time the crowd had reached the spot, porter had disentangled himself from the folds of oiled canvas, and was ready to greet his anxious friends; and amid hearty congratulations and vociferous cheers, he was escorted to his quarters. as this chapter is devoted to incidents in camp, i will try to illustrate the variety of interesting events with which our camps abound. after one of the most severe battles ever fought in virginia, and while our troops were still rejoicing over their victory, a young soldier sought the chaplain for the purpose of religious conversation. said the chaplain: "the tears were in his eyes, and his lips trembled with emotion. i knew that he was in earnest. we knelt down together and i prayed with him, and he prayed for himself. in this manner we spent several hours, pleading with god in his behalf, until light broke through the darkness, and he arose from his knees praising god." wishing to manifest by some outward sign his consecration to god and to his service, he requested the chaplain to baptize him by immersion. the next day being the sabbath his request was complied with, in the presence of thousands of his comrades. the scene was a most solemn one, and after the ordinance was administered there was scarcely a dry eye in the company to which he belonged. in the evening one of the delegates of the christian commission preached to an immense congregation of grim warriors seated on the ground--a little pine grove for a church, the great blue dome of heaven for galleries, and the clear, bright moon for a chandelier. the scene was a magnificent one. a little to the right lay a cloud of white canvas tents shining in the moonlight, and just below, in plain sight, were the transports dotting the water, with their gleaming lights and star-spangled banners floating in the evening breeze. all combined to make the scene beautiful and interesting. the discourse was excellent and well chosen, and the men listened with profound attention, and i have no doubt with much profit. then was sung lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, and the benediction being pronounced, the vast assembly marched to their quarters as solemnly as if going from a funeral. next came a wedding! yes; a real wedding in camp. you must know that when military necessity prevents our young heroes from going home to fulfill their engagements to their devoted fair ones, it is the privilege of the waiting damsels, in war times, to remove all unnecessary obstacles, and facilitate matters by declaring themselves in favor of the _union_, and claiming their lovers on the field. this wedding was a grand affair, and took place in a camp which was very prettily decorated, being picturesquely arranged among pine trees--just the most romantic place imaginable for such an event. a little before noon the guests began to arrive in large numbers. among them were generals hooker, sickles, carr, mott, hobart, ward, revere, bartlett, birney, and berry. the troops, looking their very best, formed a hollow square, in the center of which a canopy was erected, and an altar formed of drums. as the generals marched into the square--general hooker leading the van--and grouped themselves on each side of the altar, the bands struck up "hail to the chief," and on the appearance of the bridal party the "wedding march" was played. the day was cold and windy, with a few snow-flakes interspersed, which made the ladies in attendance look very much like "blue noses"; but the blushing bride bore the cold and the admiring glances of the soldiers like a martyr, and retained her dignity and self-possession throughout the ceremony worthy of a heroine, as she was. to add to the dramatic effect of the scene, a line of battle was formed by the remaining troops in that section, a short distance from camp, to repel an expected attack of the enemy. the ceremony having been performed, dinner was announced, and all partook of the good things provided for the occasion. after dinner, came numerous toasts, speeches, songs, and music from the bands, and, to close up the day in good style, a regular military ball was held, and fireworks exhibited in the evening--"and on the whole," a newspaper correspondent says, "it entirely eclipsed an opera at the academy of music." i have before alluded to the vindictive spirit manifested by the women of virginia toward our soldiers. i will illustrate this fact by an incident which took place in one of the hospitals just after a severe battle. many wounded soldiers, both union and confederate, were brought into the town of winchester, and placed in the churches and court-house side by side. the ladies (beg pardon, ladies, i mean females) of that place brought into the hospital many things to nourish and tempt the appetites of the sufferers, but they gave all these delicacies to the confederate soldiers: our men were passed by as unworthy of notice or sympathy. one day a lady, who had been a constant visitor, brought in a supply of fragrant tea. she went from one cot to another of her friends, but had no eye or heart of pity for others. one of our wounded men, who lay near his end, longed for a cup of this tea as he saw it handed to those around him, and requested the chaplain, who stood by his side, to ask the lady for a little of the tea. he did so in a very polite manner, at the same time telling her how ill the man was, and that it was the soldier himself who wished him to make the request. "no," said she, and her face flushed with anger; "not a drop of it; this tea is all for our suffering martyrs." the chaplain replied: "madam, i looked for no other answer. i beg pardon for having seemed for a moment to expect a different one." a few moments afterwards, as the poor disappointed man lay there seeing the delicious tea passed on all sides of him and could not procure a drop of it, an old lame negro woman came limping up the aisle with a large basket on each arm. coming up to where the chaplain stood, she laid down the baskets and addressed him thus: "massa, i'se a slave--my husban' and chil'en is slaves. will you 'cept dese tings for de poor men?" then taking up a roll of stockings, she said: "dem i knit wid my own hands for de soldiers, when all sleep, in my cabin. we know'd dis war was comin' long 'fore you yankees did. we see it 'proaching, an' we began to prepare for it." then taking packages of tea, cans of fruit, pears and peaches, lint, linen for bandages, and pocket-handkerchiefs, she said: "massa, permit me to give you dese for de poor men. i have not stole 'em. my own hands have earned 'em over de washtub. i wish to do something for de union soldiers, lord bless 'em!" "as she talked," says the chaplain, "she grew more earnest, and looking around on the mutilated men the tears rolled down her black face, and fell on her hands, as she lifted the treasures out of the baskets and handed them to me." our sick men looked with wonder and admiration on the old colored woman, and soon a hundred voices cried out "god bless you, aunty! you are the only white woman we have seen since we came to winchester." some people assert that colored people have no souls. which, think you, acted most as if lacking soul--the black or the white woman in the hospital at winchester? the devotion of the negro woman, as manifested in the hospital, is a perfect sample of the devotion of the contrabands, male and female, to the union cause. and now that the time has come when the colored men are permitted, by the laws of the land, to assume the privileges of rational beings, and to go forth as american soldiers to meet their cruel oppressors on the bloody field, there is evidently as great, if not greater, enthusiasm and true patriotism manifested by them, as by any troops in the united states army. and still further--it has been proved satisfactorily within the last twelve months that the colored troops endure fatigue as cheerfully and fight as well (and get less pay) as any of the white troops. thank god, this is one great point gained for the poor down-trodden descendants of africa. i imagine i see them, with their great shiny eyes and grinning faces, as they march to the field, singing- oh! we're de bully soldiers of de "first of arkansas," we are fightin' for de union, we are fightin' for de law, we can hit a rebel furder dan a white man eber saw, as we go marchin' on: glory, glory, hallelujah, etc. see dar! above de center, where de flag is wavin' bright; we are goin' out of slavery; we are bound for freedom's light; we mean to show jeff. davis how de africans can fight! glory, glory, hallelujah, glory, glory, hallelujah, glory, glory, hallelujah, as we go marching on. and now, what shall i say in conclusion? the war still continues--our soldiers are daily falling in battle, and thousands are languishing in hospitals or in southern prisons; and i for months past have not given even a cup of cold water to the sufferers. i am ashamed to acknowledge it! but when i look around and see the streets crowded with strong, healthy young men who ought to be foremost in the ranks of their country's defenders, i am not only ashamed, but i am indignant! to prove to my friends that i am not ambitious of gaining the reputation of that venerable general (halleck) whose "pen is mightier than his sword," i am about to return to the army to offer my services in any capacity which will best promote the interests of the federal cause--no matter how perilous the position may be. and now i lay aside my pen, hoping that after "this cruel war is over," and peace shall have once more shed her sweet influence over our land, i may be permitted to resume it again to record the annihilation of rebellion, and the final triumph of truth, right, and _liberty_. o lord of peace, who art lord of righteousness, constrain the anguished worlds from sin and grief, pierce them with conscience, purge them with redress, and give us peace which is no counterfeit! 