General Nelson's Scout 19

General Nelson's Scout 19

The officers gathered around General Buckner, who stood looking at the

wrecked engine with hopeless despair pictured in every feature. His

visions of glory had vanished, as it were, in a moment. No plaudits from

an admiring world, no "Hail! the conquering hero comes." Utter failure

was the end of the movement for which he had hoped so much. Surprise was

now impossible. It would take hours to clear away the wreck. He groaned

in the agony of his spirit, and turned away. His officers stood by in

silence; his sorrow was too great for words of encouragement.

 

Then a most pathetic incident occurred. Colonel Shackelford tottered up

to General Buckner, pale as death, and trembling in every limb.

"General," he gasped, "it was my boy, my son who did this. I am unworthy

to stand in your presence for bringing such a son into the world.

Cashier me, shoot me if you will. I resign my command from this moment."

 

The soul of the man who refused to desert his soldiers at Fort Donelson,

when those in command above him fled, who afterwards helped bear General

Grant to his tomb, with a heart as tender as that of a woman, now

asserted itself. His own terrible disappointment was forgotten in the

sorrow of his friend. Grasping the hand of Colonel Shackelford, he said

with the deepest emotion:

 

"Colonel, not a soldier will hold you responsible. This is a struggle

in which the noblest families are divided. If this deed had been for the

South instead of the North, you would be the proudest man in the

Confederacy. Can we not see the bravery, the heroism of the deed, even

though it has dashed our fondest hopes to the ground, shattered and

broken? No, Colonel, I shall not accept your resignation. I know you

will be as valiant for the South, as your son has been for the North."

 

Tears gushed from Colonel Shackelford's eyes; he endeavored to speak,

but his tongue refused to express his feelings. The officers, although

bowed down with disappointment, burst into a cheer, and there was not

one who did not feel prouder of their general in his disappointment than

if he had been successful.

 

How was it at Louisville during this time? General Thomas had warned

General Anderson, who had moved his headquarters to that city, that

General Buckner was contemplating an advance. But it was thought that he

would come with waving banners and with the tramp of a great army, and

that there would be plenty of time to prepare for him. Little did they

think he would try to storm the city with a train of cars, and be in

their midst before they knew it. When the train was delayed and

telegraphic communications severed, it was thought that some accident

had happened. There was not the slightest idea of the true state of

affairs. As hours passed and nothing was heard of the delayed train, a

train of discovery was sent south to find out what was the matter. This

train ran into Buckner's advance at Elizabethtown, and was seized.

 

Not hearing anything from this train, an engine was sent after it. Still

there was no idea of what had happened, no preparations to save

Louisville. This engine ran into Buckner's advance at Muldraugh Hill.

The fireman was a loyal man and at once grasped the situation. He leaped

from his engine and ran back. What could this one man do, miles from

Louisville, and on foot! He proved a hero. Meeting some section hands

with a handcar, he shouted: "Back! back! the road above is swarming with

rebels."

 

The car was turned and started for Louisville.

 

How those men worked! Great streams of perspiration ran down their

bodies; their breath came in gasps, and still the fireman shouted: "Work

her lively, boys, for God's sake, work her lively!"

 

At last Louisville was reached, and for the first time the facts known.

At once all was excitement. There was hardly a soldier in the city. Once

more the devoted Home Guards, the men who saved the city from riot and

bloodshed on July 22d, sprang to arms. General Rousseau was ordered from

across the river. He had but 1,200 men. These, with the Home Guards,

made a force of nearly 3,000 men. These men were hurried on board the

cars, and sent forward under the command of General W. T. Sherman.

Through the darkness of the night this train felt its way. On reaching

Rolling Fork of Salt River the bridge was found to be burnt. Despairing

of reaching Louisville, General Buckner had destroyed the bridge to

delay the advance of the Federal troops. The danger was over. Louisville

was once more saved. But how many American boys and girls know the name

of the daring young man who tore up the track, or the brave fireman who

brought back the news?[A]

 

But how was it with Fred; had he escaped unhurt from that volley?

 

The stumble of his horse was caused by stepping into a hole, yet slight

as the incident was, it saved Fred's life, for it threw him slightly

forward, and at the same moment a ball tore through the crown of his

hat. Another ball struck the crupper of his saddle, and another one

bored a hole through Prince's right ear.

 

As soon as he was out of sight Fred stopped, and, ascertaining that no

damage had been done, excepting the perforating of Prince's ear and his

hat, he patted his horse's neck and said: "Ah, Prince, old boy, you are

marked now for life, but it is all right. I shall always know you by

that little hole through your ear."

 

Fred stopped that night at a planter's house, who at first viewed him

with some suspicion; but when he was told of Buckner's advance, he was

so overjoyed, being an ardent Secessionist, that there was nothing good

enough for his guest.

 

The next day, when Fred rode into Lebanon, the first man that he saw

was Mathews, who sauntered up to him, and said in a sarcastic tone: "It

seems, young man, that you made a short visit to your poor sick

grandfather. How did you find the old gentleman?"

 

Fred shrugged his shoulders. "I changed my mind," he replied. "I didn't

see the old gentleman; I concluded to come back. Things are getting a

little too brisk up there for me. Buckner has advanced, and there may be

some skirmishing around Elizabethtown."

 

"And so you run," exclaimed Mathews in a tone which made Fred's blood

boil. All of this time Mathews had been carefully looking over the boy

and horse, and quite a crowd had collected around them.

 

"Ah!" continued Mathews; "a round hole through your horse's ear, been

bleeding, too; your saddle torn by a bullet, and a hole through your

hat. Boy, you had better give an account of yourself."

 

"Not at your command," replied Fred, hotly. "And I deny your right to

question me."

 

"You do, do you, my fine young fellow? I will show you," and he made a

grab for Prince's bridle.

 

A sharp, quick word from Fred, and the horse sprang, overthrowing

Mathews, and scattering the crowd right and left. Mathews arose, shaking

the dust from his clothes and swearing like a trooper.

 

A fine-looking man had just ridden up to the crowd as the incident

occurred. He looked after the flying boy, and nervously fingered the

revolver in his holster. Then a smile came over his face, and he spoke

to Mathews, who was still swearing and loudly calling for a horse to

pursue Fred.

 

"No use, Jim; you might as well chase a streak of lightning. That is the

fastest horse in Kentucky."

 

Mathews looked at the man a moment in surprise, and then exclaimed:

"Heavens! Morgan, is that you? How came you here?"

 

"Made a run for it night before last," replied Morgan with a laugh, "to

keep from being nabbed by old Thomas. But what was the fuss between you

and that boy? I wonder what he was doing out here any way? But, Mathews,

he did upset you nicely; I think you rolled over at least six times."

 

"I will be even with him yet," growled Mathews.

 

"Oh! I have heard half a dozen men say that, myself included. But let's

hear what the rumpus was about."

 

When Morgan heard the story, he said: "So Buckner is at Elizabethtown,

is he? Well, that changes my plan. I was going to Bowling Green, but now

I will change my course to Elizabethtown. But I would like to know what

that boy has been doing. From what you say he must have been in a

skirmish. Trying to throw a train off the track, perhaps; it would be

just like him."

 

"But, Mathews," he continued, "the boy is gone, so let us talk

business. I am going to raise a regiment of cavalry for the Confederate

service, and I want you to raise a company."

 

"That I will, John," said Mathews. "There is no other man I had rather

ride under."

 

Fred laughed heartily as he looked back and saw Mathews shaking the dust

from himself. Finding that he was not pursued he brought Prince down to

a walk. "I could almost swear," he said to himself, "that I caught a

glimpse of Morgan as I dashed through the crowd. Thomas surely ought to

have him before this time. I wonder what it means."

 

As he was riding through Danville he met his uncle, Judge Pennington,

who, to his surprise, greeted him most cordially, and would insist on

his stopping a while.

 

"Where have you been, Fred?" asked the judge.

 

"Over towards Elizabethtown to see my sick grandfather," replied Fred,

gravely.

 

"Fred, what do you mean?" asked his uncle, somewhat nettled.

 

"Well, uncle, I have been over towards Elizabethtown ostensibly to see

my grandfather, but really to see what I could find over there."

 

"And what did you find?"

 

"I found Buckner's men as thick as hops, and I found a warm reception

besides. Look here," and he showed his uncle the hole through his hat.

"If you will go out and look at Prince, you will find a hole through

his ear, and you will also find the saddle torn with a bullet. Oh, yes,

Buckner's men were glad to see me; they gave me a warm reception."

 

Judge Pennington looked grave. "Fred, are you telling the truth?"

 "Yes, uncle."