The Southerner: A Romance of the Real Lincoln Part 96

"But you cannot expect," Gilmore said, "with only four and one half millions to hold out forever against twenty?"

Mr. Davis smiled:

"Do you think there are twenty millions at the North determined to crush us? I do not so read the returns of your elections or the temper of your people."

"If I understand you, then," Jaquess continued, "the dispute with your government is narrowed to this, union or disunion?"

"Or, in other words, independence or subjugation. We will be free. We will govern ourselves. We will do it if we have to see every Southern plantation sacked and every Southern city in flames."

The visitors rose, and after a few pleasant remarks, took their leave.

Mr. Davis was particularly cordial to Colonel Jaquess, whom he knew to have been a clergyman.

John was surprised to see him repeat the habit of Abraham Lincoln, of taking the hand of his visitor in both his in exactly the same cordial way.

He had forgotten for the moment that both Lincoln and Davis were Southerners, born in the same State and reared in precisely the same school of thought and social usage.

"Colonel," the thin Southerner said in his musical voice, "I respect your character and your motives and I wish you well--every good wish possible consistent with the interests of the Confederacy."

As they were pa.s.sing through the door, he added:

"Say to Mr. Lincoln that I shall at any time be pleased to receive proposals for peace on the basis of our independence. It will be useless to approach me with any other."

Next morning the visitors waited in vain for the appearance of Judge Ould to convey them once more into the Union lines. Visions of a long term in prison, to say nothing of a possible hang-man's noose, began to float before their excited fancy. They had expected the Judge at eight o'clock. It was three in the afternoon when he entered with the laconic remark:

"Well, gentlemen, if you are ready, we'll walk around to Libby Prison."

Certain of their doom, the two men rose and spoke in concert:

"We are ready."

They followed the Judge downstairs and found the same coal black driver with the rickety team that had brought them into Richmond.

Gilmore smiled into the Judge's face:

"Why were you so long coming?"

Ould hesitated and laughed:

"I'll tell you when the war's over. Now I'll take you through the Libby and the hospitals, if you'd like to go."

When they had visited the prison and hospitals, Gilmore again turned to the Judge:

"Now, explain to us, please, your delay this morning--we're curious."

Ould smiled:

"I suppose I'd as well tell you. When I called on Mr. Davis for your permit, Mr. Benjamin was there impressing on the President of the Confederate States the absolute necessity of placing you two gentlemen in Castle Thunder until the Northern elections are over. Mr. Benjamin is a very eloquent advocate, and Mr. Davis hesitated. I took issue with the Secretary of State and we had a very exciting argument. The President finally reserved decision until two o'clock and asked me to call and get it. He handed me your pa.s.s with this remark:

"It's probably a bad business for us, but it would alienate many of our Northern friends if we should hold on to these gentlemen."

In two hours the visitors had reached the Union lines, John Vaughan had obtained his pa.s.ses and was on his way to Atlanta.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII

THE STOLEN MARCH

John Vaughan's entrance into Atlanta was simple. His credentials from Richmond were perfect. His exit proved to be a supreme test of his nerve.

The two lines of siege and battle stretched in wide semicircle for miles over the ragged wood tangled hills about the little Gate City of the South.

Sherman had fought his way from Chattanooga one hundred and fifty miles since May with consummate skill. His march had been practically a continuous series of battles, and yet his losses had been small compared to General Grant's. In killed, wounded and prisoners he had only lost thirty-two thousand men in four months. The Confederate losses had been greater--at least thirty-five thousand.

Hood, the new Southern Commander, had given him battle a month before and suffered an overwhelming defeat, losing eight thousand men, Sherman but thirty-seven hundred. The Confederate forces had retired behind the impregnable fortifications of Atlanta and Sherman lay behind his trenches watching in grim silence.

The pickets at many places were so close together they could talk. John Vaughan attempted to slip through at night while they were chaffing one another.

He lay for an hour in the woods near the Southern picket line watching his chance. The men were talking continuously.

"Why the devil don't you all fight?" a grey man called.

"Uncle Billy says it's cheaper to flank you and make you Johnnies run to catch up with us."

"Yes--d.a.m.n you, and we've got ye now where ye can't do no more flankin'.

Ye got ter fight!"

"Trust Uncle Billy for that when the time comes----"

"Yes, and we've got Billy Sherman whar we want him now. We're goin' to blow up every bridge behind ye and ye'll never see home no more----"

"Uncle Billy's got duplicates of all your bridges fast as ye blow 'em up."

"All right, we're goin' ter blow up the tunnels through the mountains----"

"That's nothin'--we got duplicates to all the tunnels, too!"

John Vaughan began to creep toward the Federal lines and muskets blazed from both sides. He dropped flat on the ground and it took two hours to crawl to a place of safety.

He felt these lines next morning where they were wider apart and found them too dangerous to attempt. The pickets, at the point he approached, were in an ugly mood and a desultory fire was kept up all day. The men had bunched up two together and entrenched themselves, keeping a deadly watch for the men in blue. He stood for half an hour close enough to see every movement of two young pickets who evidently had some score to pay and were hunting for their foe with quiet, deadly purpose.

"There's a Yank behind that clump," said one.

"Na--nothin' but a huckleberry bush," the other replied.

"Yes there is, too. We'll decoy and pot him. I'll get ready now and you raise your cap on a ramrod above the hole. He'll lift his head to fire and I'll get him."