The Blue and The Gray—Afloat
Two colors cloth Emblematic Dies Illustrated
Price per volume $1.50
TAKEN BY THE ENEMY
WITHIN THE ENEMY'S LINES
ON THE BLOCKADE
STAND BY THE UNION
FIGHTING FOR THE RIGHT
A VICTORIOUS UNION
The Blue and The Gray—On Land
Two colors cloth Emblematic Dies Illustrated
Price per volume $1.50
BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
IN THE SADDLE
A LIEUTENANT AT EIGHTEEN (In Press)
(Other volumes in preparation)
Any Volume Sold Separately.
Lee and Shepard Publishers Boston
"Be you uns soldiers, mass'r?"
The Blue and Gray Army Series
IN THE SADDLE
BY
OLIVER OPTIC
AUTHOR OF "THE ARMY AND NAVY SERIES" "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD" FIRST
AND SECOND SERIES "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES" "THE GREAT WESTERN
SERIES" "THE WOODVILLE STORIES" "THE ONWARD AND UPWARD
SERIES" "THE LAKE SHORE SERIES" "THE YACHT-CLUB SERIES"
"THE RIVERDALE STORIES" "THE BOAT-BUILDER SERIES"
"THE BLUE AND GRAY NAVY SERIES" "A MISSING MILLION"
"A MILLIONAIRE AT SIXTEEN" "A YOUNG
KNIGHT-ERRANT" "STRANGE SIGHTS ABROAD"
"AMERICAN BOYS AFLOAT" "THE
YOUNG NAVIGATORS" ETC.
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
10 MILK STREET
1895
Copyright, 1895, by Lee and Shepard
All Rights Reserved
In the Saddle
TO MY FRIEND
WILLIAM R. BEATTY
MY COMPANION IN MANY VERY AGREEABLE ASSOCIATIONS
THIS VOLUME
IS CORDIALLY DEDICATED
PREFACE
"In The Saddle" is the second of the "Blue and Gray—On Land." In the first volume a New Hampshire family was transplanted to the southern part of one of the Border States just before the breaking out of the Great Rebellion, now happily an event of the somewhat distant past. An attempt is made in that book to describe the condition of the region in the progress of the story; and the material for it was diligently looked up in the records of those stormy times, in those of official character in the archives of the State in which the events transpired, as well as in "The Record of the Rebellion," Congressional Reports, and the multitude of histories, narratives, biographies, and miscellaneous works on the shelves of public and private libraries. The writer believes his material statements are correct, and that the pictures he has given of the disorderly condition of the State of Kentucky, especially in the southern portion, are not overdrawn.
The story of the Lyon family introduces two branches of it, both from the same Northern locality, though, unhappily, not of the same way of thinking on the great question of loyalty to the national government and Secession with the South. Plantation life and manners are presented to some extent, as one of the brothers comes into possession of a large estate and half a hundred slaves by the will of a Kentucky member of the Lyon family. The first volume of the series is devoted to the "bringing out" of the loyal element in the county where the plantation is located, in opposition to the more demonstrative secession or neutral sentiment. A Union meeting in a schoolhouse, disturbed by the "ruffians," as they had come to be called, in which the loyal citizens vigorously defend themselves, and expel the intruders, brings the affairs of the neighborhood to a crisis. The planter is attacked by a mob, and with the assistance of a few of his friends, and by arming a portion of his negroes, successfully encounters the disturbers of the peace. Following these stirring events, two companies of cavalry are enlisted by an authorized officer, carefully drilled, and put in readiness to take the field.
In the present volume this battalion enters upon active service. The same characters are presented in the uniform of cavalrymen, mounted on the fine equine stock of the plantation. Noah Lyon, the head of the family, obtains an actual military title, instead of the merely complimentary one given to him by his friends and neighbors. His two sons, Deck and Artie, appear in the front rank in the operations in which the squadron is engaged, though both of them enter the service as privates. The young men are of the loftiest moral character, actuated by the purest and most devoted patriotism. They are of good physique, in vigorous health, and do not seem to know the meaning of the word fear. If their individual exploits seem to any to be extravagant, they have been more than paralleled on the battle-field in hundreds of instances. Both of them are exceedingly fond of their steeds; and Deck, in the months devoted to drill, makes no insignificant figure as a horse-trainer. His steed, one of the blood stock of his deceased uncle, is so intelligent and so apt a scholar, that he enables his rider to achieve some rather wonderful feats in action. He is modest, and, when praised for his deeds, attributes them to "Ceph." This young soldier wins and obtains a promotion which will supply the title for the next volume.
In contrast with the progressive fortunes of the loyal brother and his two sons, the disloyal one, who had become, through the influence of his money rather than his ability, the leader of the "ruffians," is again introduced, with his two boys, who follow in the footsteps of their father till they become disgusted with their lot.
The operations of the loyal battalion of cavalry are confined to the protection of the bridges on the railroads, and to repressing "partisan" onslaughts and outrages upon towns and villages largely inhabited by citizens who are faithful to the national government. But the officers and privates are faithful where loyalty meant vastly more than in the North; and their zeal and earnestness in the discharge of their duty left a stirring record behind them wherever they went.
William T. Adams.
Dorchester, Dec. 12, 1894.
CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS.
IN THE SADDLE
CHAPTER I
COLLECTING A BILL BY FORCE OF ARMS
This call for assistance came from a small house, poorly constructed by those who had little skill in the art of carpentry. It stood near the Spring Road, in a field of about ten acres of land, under cultivation, though the rank weeds among the useful plants indicated that it had been sorely neglected.
Those familiar with the locality would have recognized it as the abode of one of those small farmers found all over the country, who were struggling to improve their worldly condition on a very insufficient capital. The house was hardly finished, and the want of skill was apparent in its erection from sill to ridgepole.
Swinburne Pickford was the proprietor of the dwelling and land. He worked for farmers, planters, and mechanics, for any one who would give him employment, in addition to his labor in the cultivation of his land; and with the sum he had been able to save from his wages, he had bought the land, and started the small farm on his own account. He had a wife and two small children; and, as his time permitted, he had built the house with his own hands alone.
The section of the State of Kentucky in which this little place was located had been sorely disturbed by the conflicts and outrages of the two parties at the beginning of the War of the Rebellion, one struggling to drag the State out of the Union, and the other to prevent its secession. As in the other States of the South, the advocates of disunion were more violent and demonstrative than the loyal people, and after the bombardment of Fort Sumter appeared to be in the ascendant for this reason.
The entire South had been in a state of excitement from the inception of the presidential campaign which resulted in the election of Abraham Lincoln, and the industries of this region suffered in consequence; and it looked as though Pickford's house would never be entirely finished. With the exception of the chimney, placed outside of the building, after the fashion of the South, he had done all the work himself. Titus Lyon, the mason of the village of Barcreek, had done this portion of the labor, and the bill for its erection was still unpaid.
Inside of the house two young men, the older about eighteen and the younger sixteen, both armed with muskets, had dragged the proprietor of the house to the floor. One of them had his foot on the chest of the fallen farmer, and the other was pointing his gun at him. Pickford had evidently endeavored to protect himself from the assault of his two assailants, who had got the better of him, and had only given up the battle when pinned to the floor by the foot of one of them.
"Will you pay the bill I have brought to you?" demanded Sandy Lyon, who was the principal aggressor in the assault. "Dr. Falkirk paid you over fifty dollars to-day, and you have got the money to pay the bill, which has been standing two years."
Swin Pickford made no reply to this statement; but just at that moment he heard the clippetty-clip of a galloping horse in the road in front of the house. With the foot of one of his assaulters on his chest, and the other with an old gun in his hand at his side, Pickford realized that nothing could be done but submit. Shooting in that locality and at that time was no uncommon occurrence; for there seemed to be no law in the land, and men generally settled their own grievances, or submitted to them.
"Help! Help!" shouted the victim of the present outrage, with all the strength of his lungs, which gave him voice enough to make him heard a quarter of a mile distant.
"Shut up your head!" savagely yelled Sandy Lyon, as he pressed his foot down with all his might by throwing all his weight upon the breast of the prostrate farmer.
The sound of the horse's feet in the road seemed to give the victim a new hope, and he tried to shout again. But Sandy flew at his throat like a wolf, and choked him into silence.
"Find a couple of ropes or cords, Orly, and we will tie his hands behind him!" called Sandy to his brother.
"'Help! Help!' shouted the victim."
The younger brother hastened to obey the order. Finding nothing of the description required, he rushed into the rear room of the house. The pressure of the assailant's hands upon his throat, and the hope of assistance from outside, stimulated the victim to further resistance, for the gun in the hands of Orly no longer threatened him. With a desperate struggle he threw Sandy over backwards, and sprang to his feet. His persecutor picked himself up, and was about to throw himself upon him again. Pickford, who was nearly exhausted by the struggle and the choking, rushed to the open door; and as he was about to pass out he encountered a young man in the uniform of a cavalryman, with a sabre dangling at his side, and a carbine slung on his back.
At the moment when the cry for help came from the house, the young man, mounted on a spirited horse, was riding along the Spring Road. He was a stout fellow, not more than eighteen years old, with a pleasant face, though a physiognomist would have observed upon it a look of determination, indicating that he could not be trifled with on a serious occasion. Neither the house nor the man who occupied it would have tempted the soldier to enter it for any other reason than the call that had just come from it.
The cavalryman reined in his steed, and halted him with his head to a post in front of the dwelling. Dismounting in haste, he threw the reins over the hitching-hook and hurried to the front door, just in time to encounter Pickford as he was rushing out. The victim of the outrage was gasping for breath, and presented a really pitiable aspect to the young soldier, to whom he was not a stranger, though they had met as enemies and not as friends.
"What's the trouble?" asked Deck Lyon, the cavalryman, as he encountered the owner of the miniature plantation.
"I have been set upon, and nearly killed by your cousins, Sandy and Orly Lyon, and one of them has nearly choked me to death," gasped Pickford.
"By my cousins!" exclaimed Deck Lyon, astonished at the reply of the victim.
"Yes; both on 'em," groaned Swin, as he was generally called.
"I supposed you had gone to the county town with the Home Guards," added Deck.
"No; I never 'listed, 'cause I have a family to take care on."
"Come in, and let me see what the trouble is," continued Deck, as he pushed Swin in ahead of him.
Sandy had been in the act of throwing himself upon his victim again, when he discovered his cousin in the person of the cavalryman. The sight of him caused the angry young man to fall back; and Deck entered the room just as Orly appeared at the rear door with a piece of bed-cord in his hand.
"Good-morning, Sandy," said Deck, as pleasantly as though nothing had called for his interference. "There seems to be some trouble here."
"Trouble enough," replied Sandy in a sulky tone.
"Swin Pickford calls for help as though you intended to murder him," continued Deck, as he looked from one to the other of the belligerents, and took in Orly with the cord at the same time. "You are all on the same side of the national fight, and you ought to be friends."
"We are not on the same side, for Pickford is a traitor," answered Sandy.
"I'm no traitor!" protested Swin. "But I should like to ask what you and Orly are, if I'm one. I was willing to join the Home Guards for home service; but when they started to go inter the Confederate army, I took off my name, for I didn't j'in for no sech work. But Sandy and Orly went off with the company, and then deserted and come home. What's the sense of them callin' me a traitor when I'm not one, and they be."
"If they deserted, they did a sensible thing," said Deck with a smile, as he glanced at his two cousins. "But I am not here to settle any such quarrel as this; for I don't care how much you ruffians fight among yourselves."
"The trouble here has nothing to do with politics or the Home Guards," replied Sandy.
"Nothing at all, Deck," added Orly.
"What is it all about, then?" inquired Deck. "I came in because a cry was heard from the house which made me think a murder was going on here."
"That's jest what was goin' on here!" exclaimed Pickford.
"Nothing of the sort," protested Sandy. "Not a word has been said here about the army or the Home Guards."
"But your father has marched his company farther south, to join General Buckner's army."
"That had nothing to do with our business here. Swin Pickford owes father twenty-seven dollars for building the chimney of this house, and he has owed it for about two years, and it is time the bill was paid."
"That's all so, Deck Lyon; I don't deny none on't," added Pickford, who had recovered his breath and his temper by this time. "But I hain't had the money to pay the bill. I'm an honest man, and I allus pay my debts when I ken. Times have been hard with me for the last two years. Folks has been all over inter politics, and I couldn't hardly git money enough to pay for the bread and butter of my wife and children; for there wasn't next to no work at all."
"That's a poor excuse in your case, Swin," added Sandy.
"I went to Cap'n Titus more'n a year ago, and talked to him about that debt," continued Pickford, without heeding the remark of Sandy. "He got heaps of money out of his brother's property, and I didn't s'pose he needed the money. I offered him five dollars, and told him I'd try to pay him five every month. But he didn't want me to do it that way, and told me I could pay it all to once, when I had the money. Then he wanted me to help him git up the company, and I did; I hoofed it all over the county for him, sometimes when I might have worked."
"But he has got money now!" Sandy broke in. "Dr. Falkirk paid him fifty dollars this morning at the grocery; for I saw him do it, and heard him say how much it was."
"I don't deny that, nuther," said the unfortunate debtor. "But I haven't got three dollars left of that money now. I paid Grunge the grocer nineteen dollars on't; for he knows I'm an honest man, and trusted me. Then I paid a man that's poorer'n I am for some work he done on my place, seven dollars and a half, and I had to pay my taxes or lose my farm."
"I saw Dr. Falkirk pay him that money, and Orly and I tramped all the way over here; for we have no horses at home now. He's got the money, and won't pay the bill. Mother wants the money very much," added Sandy.
"She hasn't got a dollar in the house," Orly put in, perhaps telling more than his brother wished to have revealed.
"Then you came over here to collect the bill at the muzzle of your gun," suggested Deck, who had seen the younger brother pick up his weapon, which had fallen on the floor.
"We meant to make him pay," said Sandy. "I believe he has the money, and I meant to search the house till I found it."
"You would have s'arched till the last gun fires, and you wouldn't found it then," protested the victim, as he took an old wallet from his pocket, which was found to contain about three dollars in silver. "That's all I've got in this world, and none in the next."
"I don't believe he has got any more money, Sandy," said Deck to his cousin, as he stepped up to him, and spoke to him in a low tone.
"I'm willin' to give him two dollars outen the little I got, though he abused me wus'n any man ever did in this world, and sha'n't in the next," interposed Pickford.
"I will take what I can get," replied Sandy, as he took the bill from his pocket.
The debtor paid him two dollars in silver; and if his mother, as Orly affirmed, had not a single dollar in the house, this small sum would be gladly received by her. Deck led the way out of the house, and his two cousins followed, just as Mrs. Pickford and her two small children came into the room. The sight of them was enough to assure the visitors of the poverty of the husband and father.
CHAPTER II
REVELATIONS OF A YOUNG GUARDSMAN
Dexter Lyon was very much perplexed by the situation of his uncle's family in Barcreek; for he owned his place, which had cost five thousand dollars, unencumbered; and about two years before he had received from the estate of his deceased brother twenty thousand dollars in cash and stocks.
"Of course the story that your mother had not a dollar in the house is a fiction, such as people who collect money, or don't want to pay it out, often tell," said the young cavalryman, as he went to the post where he had secured his horse.
"Fiction? What do you mean by that?" asked Sandy Lyon, the expression on whose face was very sad and discontented.
"You didn't mean that what you said was true?"
"What did I say that was not true?" inquired Sandy, looking at his cousin as though he was in doubt whether or not to conceal the correct answer to the question.
"Everybody in Barcreek knows that your father has gone to Bowling Green, and you said that your mother had not a dollar in the house," replied Deck, studying the expression on the face of his cousin. "You didn't mean that, did you?"
Sandy looked at his cousin, and each seemed to be considering the meaning of the other's looks. They were own cousins, and their homes were not more than a mile apart; but they had not met for three months. Politics, as the people of this locality generally called the two great questions of the day, Unionism and Secession, had created a great gulf between the two families. Judging from the threadbare and semi-miserable condition of the two sons of Captain Titus, times had gone hardly with the family.
"I did not say that mother had not a dollar in the house," said Sandy, after a long silence.
"Orly said so, and you did not contradict him; so it is all the same thing," added Deck.
"I did say so; and I said it because it was just as true as Breckinridge's long letter," said Orly earnestly.
"That is not saying much for the truth of it," answered Deck, with a smile on his handsome face; for he had the reputation of being a good-looking fellow, especially since he had donned his uniform.
"Well, it is true as that the sun shines in the sky," added Orly; and there was an expression of disgust on his face.
"But your father has plenty of money," suggested the young soldier.
"No, he hasn't," protested Orly.
"You are talking too fast, Orly," interposed Sandy reproachfully.
"We may as well let the cat out of the bag first as last, for she will scratch her way out very soon," replied Orly. "Mother will be glad enough to see that two dollars when Sandy offers it to her."
Just at that moment the blast of a bugle, or several of them, was heard in the direction of the Cross Roads, the way Deck was going when he was arrested by the cry for help from Pickford's house.
"What's that?" asked Sandy, as though he was glad to have the subject of the conversation changed, however it may have been with his more impulsive brother.
"It must be my company, or the squadron to which it belongs," replied Deck rather indifferently.
"How many companies have you, Deck?" asked Orly.
"Only two yet, hardly enough for a battalion."
"Where are they going now?"
"Probably they are out for drill; and I must fall in as soon as the companies come up," said Deck, as he mounted his horse and straightened himself up in the saddle, as though he wished to present a proper appearance before his cousins.
But the battalion or squadron was still at a considerable distance from him, and the young cavalryman could not help looking at the pinched faces of his cousins; for though they had ostensibly embraced the cause of Secession, he was full of sympathy for them. They looked as though they had been poorly fed, if not half-starved; and when the time had come for them to have new suits of clothes, they had not obtained them. But if Captain Titus's family was without money, it could be only a temporary matter, for he could hardly have exhausted his twenty thousand dollars in stocks and cash, though it was well known that he had contributed five thousand dollars for the purchase of arms and ammunition to be used by his company of Home Guards, which had now moved south to join the Confederate army.
"As I said before, your father had plenty of money," continued Deck, though he was not disposed to be over-inquisitive.
"He had at one time," Sandy admitted; and it was plain from his manner that he was not willing to tell all he knew about his father's financial affairs.
"I don't understand how your mother should be so short of money, Sandy; but it is none of my business, and I won't ask any more questions," added the cavalryman, as he whirled his restive horse about. "I thought you and Orly went with the company to Bowling Green, Sandy."
"We did; but we came back again," replied the elder brother. But there appeared to be something to conceal in regard to their return.
"There wasn't any fun in soldiering without any pay, and without even half enough to eat, with nothing to wear," added the plain-spoken younger brother.
"You needn't tell all you know, Orly," interposed Sandy, with a frown at his brother.
"You needn't snap at me, Sandy; for I told you before I had had enough of this thing, and I shall never join the company again," returned Orly earnestly. "Do you suppose I can enlist in one of your companies, Deck?"
"Shut up, Orly!" exclaimed Sandy very sternly. "You don't know what you are talking about."
"I'll bet I know what I'm talking about, and my stomach knows too," retorted Orly.
"Don't make a fool of yourself! You don't mean to turn traitor to your father and the cause, Orly?" pleaded Sandy; but he appeared to be trying to keep up appearances.
"Hang the cause!" exclaimed Orly, as though he meant all he said. "My father got me into the scrape, and he will get enough of it before he is many months older."
"Use your reason and common-sense," counselled the elder brother.
"That's what we just haven't been using the last two years, and now I'm going to use my reason and common-sense on my own hook. If you like soldiering without pay or rations, Sandy, you can join the company again as soon as you like; but when you catch me there, you will find a Kentuckian without any eye-teeth," replied Orly, who was only two years younger than his brother, and was considered the brighter boy of the two; and his tones and his manner were vigorous enough to indicate that he meant all he said.
"You are acting like a fool to talk like that before your cousin, who is an abolition soldier."
"Before my cousin! His father and himself have been sensible from the first; and I only wonder that Deck don't quote Scripture to us, and gently remind us that 'the way of transgressors is hard;' for he can't help seeing the truth of the proverb in both of us."
"I didn't know that things had become particularly hard with you," said Deck.
"Orly is as wild as a goat, Deck. Don't mind what he says," interposed Sandy.
"Or what Sandy says," interjected the younger of the two.
"Our company has not been mustered in yet, and of course we could not draw pay or rations," added Sandy, who felt called upon to defend his father and the "cause" from the implied censure of his brother. "Father spent all the ready money he had to pay for rations and tents, and some other things the Confederate government will furnish, and will pay him back for all he has expended. That is the reason why my mother is so short of money just now."
"That's all very good as far as it goes; but I don't believe the Confederate government has got any more money than the Bank of England; and it will be a long day before father gets his money back. We were nearly starved when we left the company."
"But we did not desert, as some folks say we did," added Sandy, who was in favor of putting the best foot forward. "Father sent us home when we spoke of leaving, and he gave us a sort of furlough, in so many words. If he could hear you talk, Orly, he would be ashamed of you."
"As I have been of him more than once," said the younger in a low tone, as though he did not feel fully justified in speaking in that manner of his father, who had a gross failing, which had recently been gaining upon him.
Sandy heard the remark; and he was disgusted, though he could not deny the justness of it. He had been ashamed of his father, but his inborn pride did not permit him to say so outside of the family. If he had been as plain-spoken as his brother, he might have informed Deck, who was the only listener to the conversation, that the furlough had grown out of a quarrel between Captain Titus and his older son.
The captain had always been what is known as a moderate drinker, but the habit had grown upon him after he went to Kentucky. Some of the Home Guard had been shot at while engaged in foraging among the farmers for food in the outskirts of the county-seat where the company was encamped, and it became a dangerous pursuit, as even the commander of the company would not authorize it; for in the status of the body it was nothing but plundering.
Sandy noticed that his father had his whiskey ration in increased proportions, and he knew that it cost money. He and Orly were not half fed, and the father lived on his favorite beverage. It provoked him to wrath, and in a fit of desperation he spoke out to him as plainly as Orly could have done it. The quarrel followed; and when Sandy declared that he and his brother would leave the company, he had driven them from his presence, and ordered them not to return. This was the furlough, "in so many words," as Sandy put it.
Perhaps the approach of the squadron of cavalry was a relief to Sandy Lyon, for it put an end to the conversation of a disagreeable nature to him. He realized the truth of nearly all that Orly had said in regard to the desperate situation of the Home Guard, and the family of its commander; but his pride was still superior to the groans of his stomach.
"Mother and the girls are going back to Derry as soon as she can get money enough to pay the bills," said Orly in a low voice.
"I am ashamed of you, Orly!" protested Sandy, who had heard the remark; for the bugle of the battalion had ceased its blast at that moment. "You have no business to tell family secrets like that."
"Confound your family secrets!" exclaimed his brother. "I don't want to quarrel with you, my brother, as father has done with Uncle Noah; but I am not in favor of starving to death for the benefit of the Southern Confederacy. You have too much family pride when it don't pay, Sandy. You said that our sister Mabel should not go out to work in the family of Dr. Falkirk, when mother said she might."
"Dr. Falkirk might have got a nigger woman to do his housework, instead of paying double wages to Mabel," replied Sandy.
"That is nothing to do with the question. Mabel's wages have been all we had to live on since we got home," returned Orly, letting out more of the secrets of the family without any compunction.
"I wish you would hold your tongue, Orly," added Sandy fretfully.
"I said what I did for a purpose; but I shall have to stop now, for the squadron is nearly here," replied Orly. "When can I see you again, Deck?"
"Almost any time when I am not at drill, or absent on an errand, as I have been to-day. You will find me at the camp or the house," replied Deck, as he rode forward to a point where he could fall into his position in his company.
"Why, there is Uncle Noah at the head of the column!" said Sandy, as the squadron came near enough for him to recognize the familiar face of his relative, even in the midst of his present unwonted surroundings. "He looks like an officer."
"He is what people have been calling him since he came to Kentucky, and is now actually Major Lyon," replied Deck, whom the boys had followed.
"But are you not an officer, Deck?" asked Orly.
"Not at all; Artie and I are high privates. They wanted to make us both sergeants; but after we had talked with father, we declined all positions," replied Deck, as he fell into his place.
It is time to give something of the history of the two families who had emigrated to Kentucky, the family secrets of one of which had been so freely revealed to Deck by the young Home Guardsman with Union aspirations.
CHAPTER III
SOMETHING ABOUT THE LYON FAMILIES
The town of Derry in New Hampshire had contributed fourteen persons to the population of Kentucky, all of them by the name of Lyon. Colonel Duncan Lyon had gone there as a young man, and had made a very handsome fortune. But he died at the age of fifty, and bequeathed his property, consisting of a large plantation, which he had named Riverlawn, because it had a delightful lawn, with great trees scattered over it, though after the English fashion with none immediately in front of the large mansion, to his two brothers and the children of one deceased ten years before his death.
The elder of the two living brothers was Titus Lyon. He had removed to his new home eight years before, and he appeared to be the black sheep of the fourteen who had departed from their native town. He was a mason by trade, and had done fairly well in his former home at his business. He was one of those men who believed that fate or circumstances had misused him, as he compared his worldly condition with that of his eldest brother, who had departed this life leaving a fortune behind him; or even of his other brother, who had always been a prosperous farmer.
Titus had been informed by Colonel Lyon that there was an opening for a mason in the village of Barcreek, near which he resided, though he had not advised him to remove to that locality, and was really opposed to his coming. His discontent with his condition had induced him to change his residence to this far-off section of the country, probably with a motive which he concealed from both of his brothers. He had a wife, who was an excellent woman, belonging to a very respectable family, and five children, three girls and two boys, the latter already introduced.
The mason did tolerably well at his trade in his new home for a few years, though it was not a business at which a fortune could be easily made in that rural section of the country. It was not a prohibition State, which seemed to make it all the worse for the head of this family; for he had contracted the habit of drinking moderately when, as a young man, he had been a stage-driver, and it had grown upon him in his new home.
Titus had not become a sot, or even a very heavy drinker, before the death of his brother; but he regularly imbibed his whiskey, and to some extent his habit affected his manners and his morals. He had always appeared to be extremely devoted to the colonel, and even fawned upon him, during his residence in Barcreek; and he was always kindly treated and assisted financially when he needed help.
Colonel Lyon died suddenly at the age of fifty. He had never been married, and had no children to whom he could leave his property. About a year before his decease he paid a visit of a month to his brother Noah, the youngest of the three brothers, in his native town. The latter was a substantial man, who held a very respectable position in the town; he had been somewhat distinguished among his fellow-citizens, and had been the incumbent of several town officers.
Noah Lyon was forty years old at the time of his brother's death, with a good woman for a wife, who was in every sense a helpmate to her husband. They had two children of their own, a boy and a girl, Dexter and Hope. Cyrus, a fourth brother of the Lyons, had lost his life in a freshet in Vermont, where he had settled as a farmer; and his wife had perished with him, leaving two small children, Artemas and Dorcas. He had not left property enough to pay his debts; but Noah promptly adopted the little ones, and for ten years he had cared for and supported them as though they had been his own.
Noah had suggested to Titus that he should take one of them to his home, while he received the other in his own family; but his brother pleaded the poor health of his wife for not doing so, and the little ones had reached the ages of seventeen and fifteen when they were removed to Kentucky. Noah and his wife treated them in every respect as their own children, and no one could have asked a better home for them. They called their uncle and aunt by the endearing names of father and mother.
At the death of Colonel Lyon, the telegraphic message announcing the sad event had been immediately followed by a letter from Colonel Cosgrove, summoning Noah to the late home of the deceased. To the intense disappointment of Titus, the Riverlawn plantation had been left to Noah, with the fifty-one slaves, and everything connected with the place. Titus had set his heart upon the possession of the estate; for it would give him a generous support without manual labor.
He was one of those men who contrive to believe in and expect what they most desire. He had been his wealthy brother's neighbor for eight years, and knew something about the estate. For this reason, and because he was next in age to the deceased, he had come to believe that the place belonged to him. The colonel had other views; for he realized that Titus was not an entirely reliable person, was not much of a business man, and his drinking habit was continually growing upon him.
The eldest brother had, however, endeavored to make a fair division of his property among his nearest of kin. He had given some legacies to his personal friends, including his faithful overseer, who had served him for many years.
Then he had given Noah ten thousand dollars in consideration of the fact that he had supported the children of Cyrus for ten years. To him also he bequeathed twenty-five thousand dollars in trust for these children. He had left the same sum to Titus, less a mortgage note given at the time the mason had purchased his residence in the village. The will was accompanied by an inventory of the entire property, indicating that the colonel had figured up his resources, and endeavored to make an equitable division among his legal heirs.
With the will also came into the possession of Noah two letters, one enclosing the other. The open one directed him not to sell any of the slaves on the plantation, and the other was not to be opened for five years. The sum of money left to his successor on the plantation, in payment for the support of the niece and nephew of the testator, and the disposition of the negroes, were the principal grievances of Titus, apparently, though the real one had been the giving of the plantation to Noah. In some of his moments, when he had rather overcharged himself with whiskey, he had furiously assailed his innocent brother for what the dead one had done in his will.
Noah was a mild and peaceful man under ordinary circumstances, and he did his best to preserve intact his fraternal relations with his angry and discontented brother. Some discussion had taken place between them, and Titus was as unreasonable as a mule. The subject rendered him furious, aided by the whiskey, and the difference on this matter became a decided rupture.
Colonel Lyon had sometimes been charged with over-indulgence to his negroes; and it was true that he had treated them as kindly as though they had been hired servants instead of slaves, perhaps more so. The "people," as they were often called on the plantation, after the manner of a man-of-war, had not been valued in the inventory of the deceased planter, and had not been mentioned in the document, any more than the horses, mules, and cows.
By this omission Titus believed that he had been cheated out of his share of about thirty thousand dollars. Noah exhibited the open letter of the colonel to him; but this only fanned his wrath. He appeared to believe that his deceased brother had no rights in his own property, all of which he had accumulated himself. He had nursed himself into the conviction that he was the victim of a gross injustice, and he had little patience, or even toleration, with his mild-mannered brother, who had never spoken to the colonel about his will, or the colonel to him.
This family quarrel owed some of its bitterness, on the part of Titus, to other circumstances than the naked merits of the case, if there was a shadow of justice in the charges of his brother against him. Noah had not a particle of it in his composition; for he was a true Christian, and returned good for evil so far as he was permitted to do so. The political situation in Kentucky had complicated the relations of the brothers.
Titus had belonged to one party, while his brother was an earnest member of the other; though with a very wide difference of opinion, one had proved to be as patriotic as the other. Probably because Noah was emphatically devoted to the Union, Titus had taken the other side of the question in Kentucky, where all was excitement and turmoil from the nomination of the candidates for the presidency. The agitation became that of Loyalty and Secession.
The governor had issued his proclamation in favor of the neutrality of the State, and Home Guards were organized to enforce it. But it never amounted to anything; for the majority were demonstrated to be Union men, and appealed to the traditions of the past as the first State to join the original thirteen. Captain Titus had become the commander of one of these companies, on his promise to uniform and equip his men. He had expended a considerable portion of the money he had inherited in the purchase of arms and ammunition for his command, though he had never been able to supply his soldiers with uniforms.
He had sent to New York for an abundant supply of weapons and cartridges, including two brass field-pieces, over a hundred breech-loading rifles, and nearly as many revolvers of several sizes. He intended that his company should be the best equipped in the region, and his newly acquired wealth made him very extravagant. But the Union forces had begun to show themselves in the State, and the loyal element exceeded in numbers the Secessionists; so that it was necessary for the commander of the Home Guards to take extraordinary precautions for the safety of the war material he had purchased.
With some difficulty he had moved the cases from the train at Dripping Spring, carted them to a point on Bar Creek, from which he had conveyed them to one of the numerous sink-hole caverns which abound in this part of the State. He had carefully disposed of them, with the aid of his two sons and some trusted neighbors, intending to give them out to his men in a few days.
An indiscretion on the part of his wife had given a hint of the existence of the arms at Riverlawn, which an exploration of Artie Lyon, the adopted son, had worked into tangible evidence of the place where the munitions had been concealed. Noah believed it was a duty he owed to his country to obtain possession of these arms. He had already been warned by his brother that he was regarded as an abolitionist, and that a mob, consisting mainly of the Home Guards, were agitating the question of burning his mansion and driving him out of the county.
When the loss of the arms was discovered, Titus became absolutely furious, and, either with or without sufficient evidence, accused Noah of stealing the property. A very enthusiastic Union meeting was held at the Big Bend schoolhouse, and was attended by some of the most prominent citizens of the county. The action of Major Lyon, as he had come to be called very generally as a title of respect, in accordance with a prevailing custom, in securing the arms was heartily approved by the assembly.
That very night the ruffians of the Home Guard, for such they were, which included most of the baser element of the locality, had made an attack on the plantation of Major Lyon, intending to burn and destroy it, if not, as was hinted, to hang the planter to one of the big trees on his lawn. But a few of his neighbors had rallied to his assistance, and his negroes were armed with the confiscated weapons, and the attack was an utter failure.
Colonel Belthorpe, who had been a soldier in his earlier years, commanded the defenders of the estate, and the mob marched to his plantation to wreak their vengeance upon him by the destruction of his property; but the same forces defeated them there, with many wounds, and the loss of a few lives.
At the Union meeting Major Lyon had proposed to raise a company of cavalry. He had offered to contribute a considerable number of horses for the service, and his neighbors had followed his example; and over a hundred steeds were pledged. Letters had been written to the commander of the Union army in Kentucky, relating to this project, and Lieutenant Burke Gordan had been sent to organize the company; and he was followed later by several non-commissioned officers to assist in the drill. The ruffians had made an attempt to stop the enlistments at Riverlawn, where the camp was located; but they had been beaten off.
The recruiting had progressed very successfully; and instead of one company, two had been organized during the next three months. Major Lyon and his two sons had drilled and studied the military art in the most determined manner; for they were enthusiastic in the support of the government. The two companies, though hardly entitled to the name, were called a squadron. The planter, in spite of his protest, was made the major of the command; and he had become competent for the position. This was the squadron which marched by the house of Swin Pickford while Deck was talking with the two sons of Titus about the strait of the captain's family in Barcreek village.
CHAPTER IV
THE DAY'S MARCH OF THE SQUADRON
It seemed to be almost a miracle that Noah Lyon had been transformed into a soldier; and those who had known him in the State of New Hampshire could hardly have recognized him. He had always been a dignified, peaceable, and quiet man—the very antipode of a fire-eater. At his former home he had been a justice of the peace, and was regarded as a person of eminent gravity.
His anger, if he was ever stirred by any such passion, was nothing more than indignation. But he was not a milk-and-water man; and, gentle as were his manners, he was an earnest man. He had never developed any military ambition in his earlier years, though he was sorry he had not done so when he found himself on the very border of the Rebellion. He was still of the military age, and was a hearty and vigorous man at forty-two, when he was called into the service.
He was an earnest and determined patriot; and nothing but the need of the nation could have induced him to put on a uniform, and drill laboriously for months in preparation for his new sphere. He belonged to the class who were said to make the best soldiers, because they went into the field as high-toned men, with whom a principle was at stake. Such soldiers had not been hurried into the camp by the excitement of the times, or by any motive but patriotic duty.
Sandy and Orly Lyon stood in front of Pickford's house, and observed the approaching column of cavalry; but the most of their attention was given to Uncle Noah. It was a very strange sight for them to see him in the uniform of a soldier, riding at the head of the squadron. These boys had drilled and marched with the Home Guards, and their father had military aspirations, though he was a little past the military age. They could not help contrasting the appearance of Major Lyon's command with that of Captain Lyon's.
Not all the Home Guards in the State were of the character of the ruffians forming the company which had marched to Bowling Green, and who had been the principal participants in the outrages and the ruffianism in the vicinity of Barcreek. Some of the companies were composed and officered by Union men, who did some of the first fighting in the State when the Confederates fortified Cumberland Gap in the eastern section. Such as these wheeled into the Union army, while those of the Secession stripe promptly joined the forces on the other side.
No doubt many of these Home Guards believed sincerely in the neutrality policy, which was advocated by some of the best men in the State; but it afforded thousands of ruffians the advantages of an organization for plunder and outrage. But its day had gone by. Major Lyon insisted from the beginning that it was a fraud; and, in spite of the action of the governor, Kentucky adhered to the Union. It cost something there to be true to the old flag, and the State deserves all honor for the struggle it made against the breaking up of the Union.
Major Lyon sat erect upon his horse, a valuable animal, which had been his favorite since his arrival. There was nothing like vanity in his expression, as might have been excusable at the head of such a fine body of men; but he looked as he always did, earnest and determined, his soldierly character resting more on his devotion to the cause than on any other motive. He wore a felt hat, ornamented with a black feather, which the mustering officer had prevailed upon him to adopt.
The squadron was composed of rather young men as a rule, and they were the sons of farmers and others engaged in business. They were fine-looking men, and they had been diligently drilled by the officers sent to Riverlawn for the purpose. Perhaps the commander was the only real planter enlisted; for most of them in the vicinity were past the age for active service, though they had done their duty in repressing outrages and keeping the peace.
Captain Gordon, who had been charged with the organization of the first company, was in command of it, while Captain Truman, a young lawyer, whose eloquent voice had been raised for the Union in the important meeting at the Big Bend schoolhouse, was in command of the second; but he had proved in the Riverlawn battle that he was a brave man, and would make a good soldier. Tom Belthorpe, who had taken part in the defence of Lyndhall and of Riverlawn, was first lieutenant of the first company; while Major Gadbury, whose military title was one of courtesy, held the corresponding rank in the second company.
It had required a great deal of persuasion to induce the proprietor of Riverlawn to accept the position of major. He was a man of character; and some of the planters in the neighborhood, especially Colonel Cosgrove and Colonel Belthorpe, convinced him that it was his duty to the cause to take the place. He had proved to them, in the engagements with the ruffians, that he had the material in his composition of which reliable commanders are made.
Deck Lyon had a tremendous reputation for courage and skill at Lyndhall; for he had rescued both of the daughters of its owner from the hands of the ruffians, who had captured them for the purpose of assisting in the recovery of the arms the major had secured. When it came to the matter of electing officers for the second company, Tom had advocated the choice of Deck as captain, though he was only eighteen years old, to the position.
Of course the young man was elated at the idea of being elevated to such a position before he had been tried in the service; but it did not seem to be quite right to him, and he went to his father for advice. The major promptly advised him to accept no position in the company. He was too young to be the commander of a company, which might be ordered on duty by itself. As his father pointed out to him the difficulties in his way, Deck went to the other extreme, and declined to take a place even as a non-commissioned officer. Artie Lyon liked the stand he had taken so well, that he followed his example, and both remained privates.
Deck and Artie did not forget the favorable mention of their names, and they electioneered very zealously for the choice of Tom Belthorpe as first lieutenant. In the case of the former, perhaps Deck was unconsciously influenced by the fact that he had a very pretty sister, who had manifested no little interest in him since he had attacked the ruffian who held her as a prisoner. In fact, Tom had two pretty sisters; but this fact affected Lieutenant Gadbury more than any other person.
When the squadron had advanced a short distance, Major Lyon wheeled his horse, and faced his command, who were marching as usual on the road by fours. He had learned his lesson well at the camp; for the squadron had been thoroughly drilled from the beginning, up to the point where the "school of the battalion" had been their practice.
"Battalion, halt!" he commanded, with a voice loud enough and clear enough to be heard far back of the place where the order was given.
Captain Gordon declared that he had not caught the major in a single error or slip since he had begun to exercise the squadron. The command was repeated by the subordinate officers, and the force came to a full halt. Deck had stopped by the side of the road, to await the coming up of his section, and his father called him as soon as he had halted the battalion.
The young man had been on a military errand for the major, rather than for his father, who insisted that his two sons should fare precisely the same as other soldiers of the companies. There was to be no favoritism on account of relationship. Deck could not report the result of his errand while the commander was marching at the head of his column, for the new companies had not reached the free-and-easy stage which came later.
Deck saluted the major as though they had never met before in their lives, and his father acknowledged it. Then the private reported the result of his mission.
"You have been making some stay at this house we are passing," continued Major Lyon, as he glanced back at the two boys who were still standing there.
"Found a fight going on in the house, and I went in on account of a call for help," replied Deck.
"But that is Pickford's house, and no ruffians would attack him," suggested the major. "Are these Titus's boys standing here?"
"They are. Uncle Titus has a bill against Pickford for twenty-seven dollars for building his chimney, and Sandy and Orly were trying to collect it by force of arms."
"I will hear more of that another time, Dexter," added Major Lyon, cutting short the story. "I declare, I hardly knew those boys!"
"They have had a hard time of it; but I must fall in," said Deck, as he began to turn his horse. "I suppose you are out for a drill, father."
"We are not; we are going on duty this time. General Buckner is somewhere in this vicinity, and evidently intends to occupy Bowling Green. Colonel Cosgrove came over to see me this morning. He says Captain Titus's company have got into the Confederate army at last, and have been supplied with arms of a poor quality, though not with uniforms."
"His men have been about half-starved while waiting, and that is the reason why Sandy and Orly came home," added the young soldier.
"Another time for that, Dexter. Are you all ready to march with your company?" asked the major.
"I have my sabre, carbine, and pistols; but I have no blanket, as I see the rest of the men have."
"You can be supplied from the wagon in the rear. But fall in," said the major, as he prepared to resume the march.
Deck galloped back to the section in which he belonged, where he had only to take his place at the side of Artie, though inside of him, for he was a trifle taller than his cousin. In the infantry, the tallest men are placed on the right, which is always the head of the column, while in the cavalry the tallest are placed in the middle.
"What does all this mean, Deck? Didn't I see Sandy and Orly Lyon by that house?" asked Artie.
"They are there, whether you saw them or not," replied Deck.
"Battalion, at ease, march!"
In the infantry, when the order for "route step!" is given, the men need not even keep step, and the formalities are relaxed in some other respects. In the cavalry, in which the horses take all the steps, the strain of precise position and movement is removed, and the soldiers may make the best of their journey. Artie wanted to know all about his two cousins he had seen at Pickford's, and Deck told him the whole story of what had occurred there.
"Is it possible that Uncle Titus's family are reduced to such a strait?" demanded Artie, his pity and sympathy apparent on his face.
"The boys say Aunt Meely and the girls are going back to Derry; and that looks as though the family were very hard up," replied Deck. "And Mabel has gone out to work in the family of Dr. Falkirk."
"I think Sandy and Orly must be in a desperate situation when they try to collect a bill with a gun."
"I have no doubt of it; though Sandy tried to put the best face on the matter, and said the part of the Confederate army that was to come to Bowling Green had not got there yet, and that they will be all right as soon as the company is mustered in. Orly speaks out loud, and tells all he knows about the condition of the family. He wants to join one of our companies."
"Orly Lyon!" exclaimed Artie. "Why, he was one of the loudest Secessionists in the village!"
"He has got enough of it, working without pay or rations," added Deck. "But where are we going, Artie?"
"I'm sure I don't know; why didn't you ask your father, if you want to know?"
"Ask my father! You know better than that, Artie; for you are aware that commanding officers don't tell what they are going to do till they get ready to do it," returned Deck.
"We are provided with ammunition and rations, and very likely we have come out to-day in order to get used to carrying them on a march," suggested Artie.
"Not at all; for father told me we were out on duty to-day, though he did not say what it was," replied Deck.
The march continued all day long, and it began to look as though it would extend into the night. About nine o'clock in the evening Major Lyon called a halt at a point where a railroad could be seen in the gloom of the night. The column had just crossed a bridge of considerable length over a creek, and the position of the railroad indicated that it must be bridged over the same stream.
While the commander and his officers were trying to make out the surroundings, half a dozen muskets were discharged from a covert of trees; but fortunately none of the cavalrymen appeared to be struck by the bullets. But it was evident that the time for action had come.
CHAPTER V
THE LEADER OF THE SCOUTING-PARTY
As the squadron came to a region where Major Lyon was no longer familiar with the country, scouts had been sent out ahead of the column to give information in regard to any possible enemy. Confederate troops had been reported from several different directions by those who had occasion to travel about the State. As indicated by some of their operations, their present policy was to destroy the railroad bridges, so as to prevent the government from forwarding troops by them.
General Buckner, or his forces, had destroyed one at Rolling Creek; but he was supposed to be falling back upon Bowling Green, as regiments from Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois began to reach this part of the State. It was possible that the squadron might come in contact with some of these forces; and the men were very anxious to find them.
Sergeant Knox was at the head of the scouts. He was a man of forty-two, a tall, raw-boned Kentuckian, whose enterprise and love of adventure had led him into the region beyond the Mississippi, where he had been a regular soldier, a hunter, a trapper, and voyageur. For some reason he had become a strong friend of Deck Lyon, who was never tired of listening to his stories of the regions beyond the pale of civilization. He was a bluff, good-natured man with those who pleased his fancy; and, though he was not bitter or revengeful, he was capable of being a terrible enemy.
Firing at a target was part of the regular drill of the cavalrymen in camp, and Life Knox always put his ball inside of every other. His name was Eliphalet, and he sometimes laughed at his parents for giving him such a long name. Captain Gordon had had no little difficulty in inducing him to sign his name in full on the enlistment papers. He had abbreviated it to "Life," and declared that he had never signed anything but that to any document in all his life.
He was born and "raised" in Warren County, though he had wandered far from it at an early age, after the death of his father and mother. He had a brother who was a prosperous planter, and with him he had lived the last two years of his life. When he came to Riverlawn to enlist, he brought with him a long rifle, which was a load for an ordinary man to carry. He was told that he could make no use of it in the army; but he asked Deck to take care of it for him, and he put it in his room.
It was occasionally brought out when the soldiers were firing at a target, and Life produced the most surprising results with it. He was pretty sure to hit the bull's-eye with it every time; for he had been trained where his daily existence depended upon the accuracy of his aim. He could bring down a squirrel as far as he could see him; and he always insisted that the rifle had as much to do with the result as himself. His shooting was observed with interest by the officers and men; and he was called, not simply a good, but a remarkable, shot. He was a dead shot to any living thing at which he aimed.
Life Knox was a good-hearted man; but there was a sort of inborn aristocracy in him which would not permit him to associate intimately with all his comrades in the ranks, though he treated them well, and spoke pleasantly to them. Deck was always respectful to him, and Life had taken a decided fancy to him. When the tall Kentuckian was ordered upon the scout, he took care that Deck should be one of the party. They had ridden together all the afternoon, and Life had made the time seem short to the young man by relating all the details of a fight with a party of Indians.
As the darkness of the evening came on, Life ordered his men to keep a sharp lookout on all sides, and suspended his thrilling narratives that his own watchfulness might not be impaired. The scouts were passing through what appeared to be a plantation, though they could not yet see any buildings. Suddenly the light of a fire flashed up at a considerable distance to the right of the scouts in the road.
"A fire, Life!" shouted Deck, as he discovered the glare of the first flame that rose in the darkness.