General Nelson's Scout 37

General Nelson's Scout 37

"Cheer up, Aunt Jennie. In all probability they will be exchanged in a

few weeks or released on parole. Here is a letter from Uncle Charles.

It will do you good to read it," and he handed her the letter her

husband had written.

 

When she had read it, she became calmer, and said, "He wishes me to stay

here."

 

"By all means, Aunt Jennie," replied Fred. "Stop these preparations for

flight; be discreet, and you will be as safe in Nashville with the

Northern soldiers here as if they were a thousand miles away."

 

Just then Kate came in, her vivacity all gone, and her eyes red with

weeping.

 

"Why Fred, you here?" she asked in surprise and with some hauteur. "I

thought you had turned Yankee. When I heard of it I vowed I would never

speak to you again."

 

"But you see you have," replied Fred, smiling.

 

"Are you sure the Yankees are coming?" she asked, ignoring Fred's

remark.

 

"Perfectly sure."

 

"Oh! oh! oh! what will we do?"

 

"Drive them back with broomsticks," replied Fred, mischievously.

 

"What!" asked Kate, opening her eyes in astonishment.

 

"My pretty cousin, didn't you tell me when I was here that if the

Yankees ever dare come near Nashville the women would turn out and beat

them back with broomsticks?"

 

"You horrid thing!" exclaimed Kate. "I will never speak to you again; so

there!" and she turned her back on him.

 

But when Kate learned that Fred had just come from her father and

brother she was eager enough to talk, and Fred had to tell the story of

Donelson over and over again. As they were talking, the clatter of

horse's hoofs attracted the attention of the family, and Fred, glancing

out of the window, saw his father dismounting before the door. The sight

completely unnerved him. He arose trembling in every limb, and gasped:

 

"Aunt Jennie, my father! I cannot meet him; he has forbidden it," and he

passed into another room.

 

Colonel Shackelford entered, and was warmly greeted by his

sister-in-law. He had but a moment to stay, as his regiment was on the

retreat, and the Federals were reported in close pursuit.

 

"I see," said he, "you have prepared for flight. I trust that you will

accompany my command until you reach a place of safety."

 

"We were going," replied Mrs. Shackelford, "but have changed our minds.

I have just received a letter from Charles, who is a prisoner, and he

has advised me to stay."

 

"Charles a prisoner, and a letter from him! How did you receive it?"

Colonel Shackelford asked in surprise.

 

Mrs. Shackelford hesitated a moment, and then answered, "Fred brought

it."

 

The colonel started violently, and then asked in a broken voice, "Fred

here?"

 

"Yes."

 

"How did he come? Tell me all about it."

 

So Mrs. Shackelford had to tell all she knew.

 

"I will see him," said the colonel.

 

Fred was told his father wished to see him; his heart gave a great

bound, as he rushed into the room with the cry of "Father!" on his lips,

and was about to spring into his arms when the stern command of "Stop!"

rooted him, as it were, to the floor.

 

"Before you call me father," said the colonel, sternly, "I want to know

whether you have repented of your folly, or whether you are here as a

spy. If I thought the latter, as sure as there is a God in heaven I

would be tempted to give you up to the authorities to be hanged."

 

If a dagger had pierced Fred's heart it would not have caused him keener

pain than the words of his father. He stood for a moment as if deprived

of the power of speech. Then the angry surges of an outraged nature came

to his relief, and his whole soul arose in protest to the indignity put

upon him.

 

"I have neither repented of my folly, as you call it," he replied

fiercely, "nor am I here as a spy. I came here on an errand of mercy at

the earnest request of Uncle Charles. Denounce me as a spy if you

choose; the act can be no more cruel than your words," and Fred turned

and left the room.

 

"Richard," sobbed Mrs. Shackelford, "are you not too severe with the

boy? At extreme peril to himself he brought a letter from Charles, and

his coming has been a great comfort to me."

 

Colonel Shackelford passed his hands before his eyes, and then groped

for a chair as if he had been smitten with blindness.

 

"Jennie," he replied in a low voice, trembling with emotion, "you do not

know the agony the course of that boy has caused me. Perhaps I was too

severe just now. Tell him I did not mean it. But I am half-crazed over

the terrible disaster at Donelson. In a few days, at the most, the

Northern horde will be here in Nashville. But," and his face lighted up

with enthusiasm, "all is not lost, Jennie; we will soon be back. I know

something of the plans of General Johnston. The army will concentrate

somewhere along the line of the Memphis and Charleston railroad,

probably at Corinth, and then before Grant and Buell can combine we will

crush them in detail. They think Donelson has broken our spirit; they

will find out differently."

 

Fred being only in the next room, heard these words, and they made a

deep impression on his mind.

 

Colonel Shackelford soon took his leave, bidding his sister-in-law keep

up courage, as the Northern army would soon be hurled back.

 

The panic in Nashville kept up until February 25th, when, to Fred's joy,

General Nelson's division came steaming up the river, and the city was

occupied by the Federal army. The stars and stripes once more floated

over the State capitol, and never again were they hauled down.

 

The alarm in Nashville in a great measure subsided, and business once

more resumed its way.

 

As for Fred, his delight at meeting General Nelson so soon was

unbounded. He had come to look upon him almost as a father, and the

fiery old fellow returned his affection.

 

Fred told the general of his aunt, and received the promise that he

would see that she was not molested or annoyed in any manner, and this

promise was religiously kept.

 

As long as he remained in Nashville Fred made his home at the house of

his aunt, and, notwithstanding his Yankee proclivities, became as great

a favorite with his cousin Kate as ever. When the time came for Buell to

advance, the family parted with Fred almost as affectionately as though

he had been one of them; and their sincere prayers followed him that he

might be preserved from the dangers of war.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XVIII.

 

"WE BOTH MUST DIE."

 

 

A few days after the surrender of Fort Donelson General Grant was

relieved of his command, and was even threatened with arrest. General

Halleck, in his headquarters at St. Louis, had worked himself into a fit

of what he considered most righteous anger. General Buell had ordered

one of Grant's divisions to Nashville, and Grant had taken a trip to

that city to find out the reason for the order. During his absence some

irregularities had occurred at Donelson, and Grant was most viciously

attacked by some anonymous scribbler, and then by the press. He was

accused of being absent from his command without leave, of drunkenness,

of maintaining no discipline, and of refusing to forward reports.

 

There was some ground for the last complaint. The telegraph operator at

Fort Henry was a Confederate in disguise. He coolly pocketed Halleck's

dispatches to Grant. He held his position for some days, and then fled

south with his pocket full of dispatches. General Grant was relieved of

his command, and General C. F. Smith, a gray-haired veteran, who smoked

a cigar as he led his men in the charge at Donelson, was appointed in

his place. The feeling against Grant was so bitter at headquarters, that

General McClellan telegraphed to General Halleck to arrest him if he

thought best.

 

The hero of Donelson deeply felt his disgrace, yet wrote to General Smith: