Brother Against Brother; or, The Tompkins Mystery. Read online

  CHAPTER XX.

  WAR IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

  It was a Sabbath morning in the latter part of October, clear andfrosty. The sun had risen in a cloudless sky, the wind blew northward inrolling columns, the smoke from the village chimneys, and the leaves onthe magnificent forest trees, which surrounded the village on the north,east, and south, had grown brown and sear, but the great plantations ofthe level valley on the west were still verdant. While on the west,faintly outlined in the distance, rose the Cumberland mountains.

  An old man, with a basket on his arm, was walking down the broadsidewalk past the cottages, from which came the fragrant odor ofcoffee, a sure indication that breakfast was preparing. The old manchanced to cast his eyes towards the eastern part of the town, andpaused in amazement.

  In a field of about twenty acres, as if they had risen by magic, werescores of snowy tents. Sentries were on duty, their burnished armsglittering in the sun, and hundreds of gray-coated soldiers were passingand repassing, white clouds of smoke from their camp-fires rose in thefrosty air.

  While the old man was looking beyond the streets and houses at theencampment on the hill, a neighbor, walking up the other side of thestreet, hailed him with:

  "Rather sudden appearance ain't it?" pointing to the camp, over whichthe Confederate flag was floating.

  "When did they come, Mr. Williams?" said the first old man.

  "Last night," replied Mr. Williams, crossing over to where the otherstood. "Can't you guess what's in the wind?"

  "No," was the answer.

  Mr. Williams, a corpulent, smooth-faced man of sixty, smiled.

  "Why, you see, the boys are strong enough now to take the Junction, andthey are on their way."

  "How many are they?" asked the first old man, who was tall and thin,with long, gray beard. He spoke evidently with some concern.

  "About three thousand in all, with five pieces of artillery."

  The cannon and the ammunition wagons were plainly to be seen from thestreet.

  "And so they are on their way to fight the Abolitionists at theJunction?" said the first old man thoughtfully.

  "Yes, Mr. Jones, and your son, Hiram, is in that crowd and my son, Seth.They'll make it quite lively for old Colonel Holdfast," replied Mr.Williams.

  "Yes, they will," said Mr. Jones, stroking his gray beard.

  The sun rose higher in the heavens, and the frosty air grew warm andgenial. By nine o'clock the forces were in motion, the long lines ofcavalry and infantry proceeding slowly and cautiously towards theJunction.

  The good citizens of Snagtown had recovered from the excitement, intowhich the appearance of the troops had thrown them, and the church bellswere calling them to worship, when the boom of the cannon shook thehills.

  All was instant excitement. The cannon shot came from the direction inwhich the troops had gone. It was followed by another and another, untilthe roar of artillery shook the hills and valleys for miles around, andthen the rattle of grape and canister was borne to the ears of thevillagers. Plainly a fight was going on. The firing lasted about half anhour, then it began to slacken, and at last, ceased, excepting anoccasional dropping musket shot.

  The villagers were gathered about in anxious groups, when a singlehorseman, dressed in gray, galloped furiously into the village. The mencrowded eagerly about him to inquire how the battle had gone.

  "There had been no battle," he said, "but their advance guard had metthe advance guard of the Union troops, and a skirmish had ensued, abattery on either side having opened.

  "We are falling back to more advantageous ground," he added, "and willbe in the village in fifteen minutes."

  The excitement, of course, redoubled. There was no service in thechurch, but the women and children were hurried away from the village,and the stern-faced who remained, locked and barred their homes andgathered, armed and resolute, in the streets. Stragglers from the armycame in first, then followed the infantry and artillery. There was along embankment on the north side of the village, where the earth hadbeen partly washed and partly cut away. This embankment was nearly ashigh as a man's breast, and a fence ran along its top for a quarter of amile to the east of the village. Behind this natural fortification theprincipal part of the infantry formed in lines. The artillery was placedin an orchard, where there was a dense growth of trees to mask it.

  The advance of the Union forces came on slowly, and it was an hour afterthe entrance of the Confederates into the village before the deployedskirmishers came in sight. The crack of a rifle announced theirapproach, another and another burst on the air at once, and then theballs came rattling rapidly against the houses.

  The engagement became general, and the roar of artillery and the rattleof musketry was deafening. The Sabbath morning, dawning so serene andcalm, had been followed by a noon of bloodshed, terror and strife. Theneat village cottages were shattered and balls had crashed throughwindow lights and shutters. The little stone church had been struck bycannon shot and shell, and one building had caught fire and burned tothe ground.

  Finally the Confederate lines began to waver and give way, and the buglesounded the retreat. They fell back, column behind column, in regularorder, passing through the village, closely followed by the victorioustroops.

  No sooner had the last column left the village than the frightenedinhabitants, who had been hiding in the woods at some distance away,began to peep forth upon the terrible scene.

  Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith, returning, found occasionally, here and there,in the street a ghastly form. A man lay dead at the gate of Mr. Jones;some were even in the houses, while one was lying across the sidewalk infront of the church. Their houses had been struck with balls, but notnear so badly shattered as might have been expected. Two or three cannonballs were lying in the street and fragments of exploded shells strewnon the ground.

  The occasional dropping shots in the distance told that both armies weremoving. Colonel Holdfast seemed determined to hold fast to ColonelScramble this time.

  The struggle we have described in this chapter is not recorded by mosthistorians, and, if mentioned at all, is only considered a skirmish, yetthe citizens of Snagtown thought it the most terrible battle of the war.

  No one of the Tompkins family had left their home. During the nightIrene had been awakened by the rumble of wheels and the tramp of hoofs,and, looking from her bedroom window down the broad road, saw long linesof dark, silent figures marching in the direction of Snagtown. For morethan an hour those silent dark figures, with their bristling bayonetsglittering in the cold moonlight, marched on and on past her window inseemingly never-ending procession--horsemen, artillery and baggagewagons rolling by. Then the line was less solid and finally broken--anoccasional group galloping by to join the army in advance. When daylightcame not a soldier was to be seen on the hard beaten road.

  Irene knew well what was the intention of the Confederates. She hadrecognized one form among those hosts that marched by in the moonlight,and, at sight of him, had crouched by in the window recess with astrange pain at her heart.

  The whole family was aroused by the passing troops, and all rightlyguessed their object. Through the long morning they sat watching on theveranda, Irene, pale and beautiful, leaning against one of the columnsof the great porch running about the northeast side of the house, heardthe first roar of the artillery, that ushered in the day's strife, and,during the long two hours that the battle raged, she stood motionless,except that her white lips moved in silent prayer. She saw the advanceof the column in rapid retreat coming down the great road from Snagtown.

  "Defeated!" she murmured. "O, Heaven, is he among the dead? Both may beslain!"

  Little did she dream how close were the pursuers. One vast retreatingmass of troops in gray poured down the hill, and, among the last of theConfederates, she saw the dark face of Oleah. His company was the lastto descend the hill, and the rear was not half way from the summit whena line of blue coats appeared on the brow of the hill and quickly fellin line.


  White puffs of smoke filled the air, and a rattling discharge offire-arms followed.

  Irene, forgetful of danger or too horrified to fly, stood motionless asa statue. She saw one or two of Oleah's company fall, and saw theircaptain wheel his horse and dash back among his panic-stricken troops.He reformed them almost instantly and returned the volley, driving backthe advance of the Union troops, who immediately rallied and came onagain to the conflict.

  "Come, Irene, come in for Heaven's sake! You may be struck dead at anymoment," cried Mrs. Tompkins, seizing the poor girl around the waist."Come, come to the cellar; it is the only safe place."

  "But, mother, see, he, they both, are there, in danger of being killed.I can not go until I see him safe."

  But Mrs. Tompkins drew her away from the porch.

  Contrary to the expectations of Mr. Tompkins and of the whole family,the house was not used as a fortification, and a running fight followed;then the bulk of the Union army swept on down the road in pursuit of theretreating Confederates.

  Irene hastened from the house down the driveway. A dead horse lay on thehill, and two soldiers, one in blue and one in gray, lay motionless inthe road, but their forms were stark and stiff, no earthly aid couldreach them. As she turned away she heard a groan, and, hastening to thespot, she saw lying in a little hazel copse, which had before concealedhim from her view, a Confederate soldier with a shattered leg, almostunconscious from loss of blood. One glance, and Irene recognized thosepale haggard features. It was Henry Smith. She saw that he was badlywounded and flew back to the house for help.

  The troops under Colonel Holdfast followed up the Confederates closely,harrassing them by repeated dashes on their rear guard, thus keeping upa continual skirmish. It so happened that Captain Abner Tompkinscommanded the advance of Colonel Holdfast, while Captain Oleah Tompkinsthe rear guard of Colonel Scrabble. The men, under each, were from theimmediate neighborhood of Snagtown, and, consequently, many in thesehostile ranks were former acquaintances or friends. As the advance underAbner was approaching a farm-house, he threw out skirmishers, among whomwas one Jim Moore, who had formerly lived in Snagtown. The house stoodback from the road, surrounded by giant oaks, and the skirmishers,fifteen in number, led by Sergeant Swords, approached slowly andcautiously, warned by the crack of rifles behind the trees. The treesbeing plenty, each man concealed himself behind one of them, theycommenced an Indian warfare. Jim Moore, who was behind a large oak, hadbeen watching his chance to get a shot at a Confederate, behind asimilar tree, about one hundred yards away. The Confederate was watchingJim the same time.

  "I say," called out Jim, during a lull in the attack, "give a fellow achance for a pop."

  The Confederate thrust out his head for a brief second, and Jim blazedaway; the bullet passed two inches over the reckless head.

  "Too high!" cried the Confederate; now give me a chance.

  Jim, not to be outdone, thrust out his head and shoulders, and a ballwhizzed beneath his arm.

  "Too low!" he cried; "but now, I'll bet a quart o' whiskey you and Ihave shot together before."

  "Your voice is familiar," answered the man, reloading. "Who are you, anyway?"

  "Jim Moore, from Snagtown, and, if I aint mistaken, you are SethWilliams?"

  "Right, old boy. We've shot ducks together many a time. How d'ye do?"

  "Pretty well," said Jim. "How are yerself and all the rest of the boys?"

  "Excellent. What are you fellows following us for?"

  "To keep you out o' mischief."

  "How many you got?"

  "Not quite seventy thousand."

  "You're lying, Jim."

  "Well, I'll take that from an old friend, Seth, but don't repeat it toooften, or I'll come over there and thrash you."

  This dialogue attracted the attention of all the skirmishers, and not ashot for the last two minutes had been fired.

  Re-inforcements now came up to the aid of the Union skirmishers, and theConfederates retired through the farmyard and across the pasture, intothe woods beyond. A cackling and a squalling of hens told that they hadmade a raid, in passing, on the barn-yard fowls.

  The Union soldiers ran forward and fired at the retreating rebels. Theonly reply was a chorus of voices, singing "Chich-a-my, chick-a-my,crany crow," followed by reckless yells and peals of laughter.

  In the hurry and confusion of the pursuit, Abner became separated fromhis company, and eager to rejoin it, dashed down a woodland path. Bothforces were now between Snagtown and Twin Mountains, in the forest,which spread out for miles on either side of Wolf and Briar creeks, andthe constant popping of guns told that the sharpshooters were at work.Not a human being was to be seen on the forest path Captain Tompkins hadtaken, but he could hear shooting on all sides. Suddenly he came upon aman standing by the side of a dead horse. In his headlong gallop, Abnerwould have run over him, had not the man seized the former's horse bythe bit with an iron grasp and hurled it on its haunches.

  A glance told Abner that it was a Confederate officer, and that he helda naked sword in his hand. In an instant he had drawn his own weapon andleaped from the saddle, to discover that he was confronted by hisbrother.

  "So, we meet again," cried Oleah, his eyes flashing fire. "You are myprisoner, sir."

  "Release my horse, and remember that we are brothers," returning hissword to its scabbard. "We shall find other foes to fight. Loose myhorse and go."

  "When I go you will go a prisoner with me. Brothers!" exclaimed Oleah,sneeringly. "In all things you oppose me. You are joined now with myenemies, fighting to rob me of country and home; you have tried to takefrom me more than my life--why not my life? Defend yourself."

  Again the brothers' blades clashed together, but a tall, powerful formsprang from the thicket into the road and hurled them apart, as thoughthey were children.

  "Brothers seeking each other's blood?" cried the new comer in a ringingvoice. "Shame! oh, shame! There are enemies enough for both your swordswithout drawing them on each other."

  The new comer was the mysterious negro, Yellow Steve.

  "I know you," cried Oleah; "you have something to tell me--"

  "But it is not to slay your brother," interrupted Yellow Steve. "Shameon you both! Put up your swords, lest I take them from you and breakthem on my knee. You, Oleah, go, and go quickly. Your enemies are allaround you."

  "Hilloa!" cried another voice, "what does all this mean?" and Uncle DanMartin, the scout, stepped out of the woods, with his rifle, readycocked, in his hand.

  Oleah, hearing others advancing, sprang into the bushes and made goodhis escape. Abner looked after him for a single moment, and when heturned to speak to Yellow Steve, that mysterious person had disappeared.

  "Who was them uns?" asked Uncle Dan, hastening forward to where hisbewildered captain stood.

  "One was my brother Oleah, the other was that strange negro, who callshimself Yellow Steve."

  "Where did he go?" asked the scout.

  "I don't know," answered Abner. "His ways of appearing and disappearingare quite beyond my comprehension."

  "I'll catch him," replied Uncle Dan. "I know the tricks of the fox andmink, and others, and I'll set a trap, which will get him yet."

  "Will you?" cried a mocking voice some distance up the path, and lookingup, they saw the mysterious black, standing by the trunk of a tree hisarms folded on his breast, a look of defiance in his gleaming eyes.Almost simultaneously with the discovery came the crack of Uncle Dan'srifle. When the smoke had cleared away the black had again disappeared.

  The place all about was searched, but no trace of him could be found.

  "I believe he is the devil," said Uncle Dan. "I never missed asquirrel's head at that distance in my life."

  "He is certainly a very extraordinary person," said Abner.