Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil WarBenson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
History
Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil War
Benson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had difficulty,
yet I had some success.
"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.
I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I had
been confused by the light infantry _carry_, never having seen drill
except from the heavy infantry _shoulder_. Wilson kept me at work for
almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with my progress. Under his
training I was soon able to drill with the company.
Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see Richmond.
He had got permission to go into town on the next day. The Captain
readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four hours, and Bellot
and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We saw the State House,
and the Confederate Congress in session, and wandered down to the river
and took a long look at the Libby Prison.
The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's left, but
now the regiment took position in the front, the lines having been
extended still farther to the left. A battery at our right--some
distance away--would throw a few shells over at the Yankees, and their
guns would reply; beyond this almost daily artillery practice, nothing
unusual occurred.
One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to get my
arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front, Corporal
Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for his sword. He
led us through our pickets and straight on toward the river. The slope
of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were clumps of pine bushes
which hid us from any casual view from either flank; and as for the
river swamp in our front, unless a man had been on its hither edge, we
were perfectly screened. I observed that, as we approached the swamp,
the Captain advanced more stealthily, keeping in the thickest and
tallest of the bushes. Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending
over and slipping along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader.
The river bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a
dense forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into
which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following
Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the purpose
of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it was not
merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.
We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the Captain
signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and stood behind a
tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body this way and that;
then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth here was less thick, the
trees larger. I could see nothing, in any direction, except trees and
muddy water. The Captain went on again for a few paces, and stopped with
a jerk. After a little he beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded
slowly on. Before we reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get
behind trees.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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