The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 16, No. 94, August, 1865: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 16, No. 94, August, 1865: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
I experienced very peculiar emotions as I lay there and found myself
alone. I even seemed to hear the whine of the soldiery, the ringing of
canteens and sabres, and the peculiar sound of the tramping feet, long
after they had passed away,--chanting, in my soul's depths, my
fluttering song of triumph to that imagined accompaniment. I had an
almost accurate idea of where I was, having observed our course quite
closely during the day, and proposed going over very nearly the same
ground in the next twenty-four hours. I had already decided in my own
mind that the Rebel general was making a retreat before the gallant
General Sheridan, whose outposts I hoped soon to come upon. But dangers
many, and some hidden, lay thick-strewn upon my path, which had not run
over roses hither; and I deemed it best to encumber the cold earth for
an hour, ere I sallied from my Moses-harbor.
The highway lay within a hundred feet of me; and as I intended taking up
my lost stitches of the morning in a peculiar (and, I hoped, original)
manner, having no knowledge of the country beyond the line of our late
march, I was obliged to count upon keeping within sound of the troops
and wagons travelling there, if I desired at all to gain my end. The
Adjutant T---- had my compass, and was, I trusted, quite free from
danger as I remained supinely within hail of men who would be delighted
to shoot me. His image, as I fancied him, cumbersome and crouching, as
he hurried along, dodging from tree to tree, reminded me of the hunts
which the chivalry indulge in farther south, (near that very horrible
Andersonville slaughter-house,) where the bay of the blood-hound rings
over the marshes, and the pack is let loose in the clear morning air,
crystal-bright and all aglow, to lap up the dew with overhanging
tongues, and to run down escaped prisoners. There is no poetical charm
attaching to that pack, although Pan never played his reeds in a more
poetical country; and its existence and employment are solemnly sober
truths. They made me very grave, suggesting, as they did, some other
dangers to which I was then liable. After working myself into a nervous
state of body, I began pulling off my coat, leaving my shoulder-straps
therewith, to play the part of asterisks, and explain who was within. My
pantaloons the soil would soon make as white as a gray-back's; and my
cap was to stay with the uniform, to grace some indigent discoverer of
the other side.
When I had secreted my money in my waistband, (not deeming my orderly's
suggestion feasible,) and had strapped my suspenders tightly about my
body, I worked my way round the bushes to the other side of the clump.
As I had expected, I found an even sweep downwards of meadow-land,
stretching parallel with the road, and as far before me as I could see
through the darkness.
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