The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's CrisisAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's Crisis
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
“I believe every word of it,” said Warner warmly. “Our friend here, who
I see can see, despite the dim light, has a countenance which one could
justly say indicates a doubtful and disputatious nature, wishes to
discredit it because he has not heard of such a thing before. Now, I
ask you, gentlemen, intelligent and fair-minded as I know you are, where
would we be, where would civilization be if we assumed the attitude of
our friend here. If a thing is ever seen at all somebody sees it first,
else it would never be seen. _Quod erat demonstrandum_. You remember
your schooldays, of course. I thank you for your applause, gentlemen,
but I'm not through yet. We have passed the question of things seen,
and we now come to the question of things done, which is perhaps more
important. It is obvious even to the doubtful or carping mind that if
a new thing is done it is done by somebody first. Others will do it
afterward, but there must and always will be a first.
“Nobody ever swallowed a river before, beginning at its mouth and
swallowing it clean down to its source, but a division of gallant young
troops from Ohio have done so. They are the first, and they must and
always will be the first. Doubtless, other rivers will be swallowed
later on. As the population increases, larger rivers will be swallowed,
but the credit for initiating the first and greatest pure-water drinking
movement in the history of the world will always belong to a brave army
division from the state of Ohio.”
A roar of applause burst forth, and Warner, standing up, bowed
gracefully with his hand upon his heart. Then came a dead silence, as
a hand fell upon the Vermonter's shoulder. Warner looked around and
his jaw fell. General McCook, who commanded this part of the army, was
standing beside him.
“Excuse me, sir, I--” began Warner.
“Never mind,” said the general. “I had come for a drink of water, and
hearing your debate I stopped for a few moments behind a tree to listen.
I don't know your name, young gentleman.”
“Warner, sir, George Warner, first lieutenant in the regiment of Colonel
Winchester.”
“I merely wished to say, Lieutenant Warner, that I listened to your
speech from the first word to the last, and I found it very cogent and
powerful. As you say, things must have beginnings. If there is no
first, there can be no second or third. I am entirely convinced by your
argument that our army swallowed a river as it marched southward.
In fact, I have often felt so thirsty that I felt as if I could have
swallowed it myself all alone.”
There was another roar of applause, and as a dozen cups filled with
water were pushed at the general, he drank deeply and often, and then
retired amid further applause.
“They'll fight well for him, to-morrow,” said Dick.
“No doubt of it,” said Warner.
They went into the edge of the wood and sought sleep and rest. But there
was much merry chatter first among these lads, for many of whom death
had already spread its somber wings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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