General Nelson's Scout 39
"I defy you," he exclaimed, his eyes flaming with wrath. "Hang me if you
will, and then in the sight of God behold yourself a murderer worse than
Cain."
"Calhoun, once more I say, listen. The information that you have you
shall not take to Johnston. Now, see how I trust you. What I do now
would hang me instead of you, if Buell knew. But I trust you with more
than life; I trust you with my honor. Give me your sacred word that you
will keep away from Corinth until after Buell and Grant have joined
forces; promise as sacredly that you will not directly or indirectly
divulge in any manner to any person the knowledge you have gained, and I
will release you."
Calhoun looked Fred in the face, hesitated, and then slowly answered:
"You seem to think I have more honor and will keep an oath better than
yourself. I shall make no such promise."
Fred staggered back. "Calhoun," he cried, "you do not, you cannot mean
it. You do not know what you say. Promise, for the love of heaven,
promise!"
"I will not promise, I will die first," replied Calhoun, doggedly. A
faint hope was arising in his mind that Fred was only trying to frighten
him; that he had only to remain firm, and that, at the worst, Fred would
only try to keep him a prisoner.
Calhoun's words were to Fred as a sentence of death. He sank on his
knees, and lifted his hands imploringly.
"Calhoun," he moaned, "see me, see me here at your feet. It is I, not
you, who is to be pitied. For the love we bear each other"--at the word
"love" Calhoun's lips curled in contempt--"for the sake of those near
and dear to us, for the honor of our names, promise, oh, promise me!"
"I tell you I will not promise. See, I spit on you, I despise you, defy
you."
"Then you must die," replied Fred, slowly rising to his feet.
Again Calhoun's face grew ashen. "Fred, you will not give me up to be
hanged?" he asked, tremulously.
"No, Calhoun, your dishonor would be my dishonor. I cannot keep my oath,
and have you hanged as a spy."
"What will you do then?" asked Calhoun.
"I shall shoot you with my own hand."
"Great God, Fred!" gasped Calhoun, shuddering. "You do not, cannot mean
that?"
"It is the only way I can keep my oath and still prevent you from
carrying the news that would mean destruction to Grant's army."
"Fred! Fred! you are a demon; you mock me. How can you keep your oath by
murdering me?"
"Calhoun, I swore to consider your honor as sacred as my own, to value
your life as highly as my own, to share with you whatever fate might
come. I shall keep my oath. After I put a bullet through your heart, I
shall put one through my own brain. _We both must die._"
Calhoun's face seemed frozen with horror. He gasped and tried to speak,
but no words came.
"Calhoun," continued Fred, in a tone that sounded as a voice from one
dead, "would that you had promised, for it can do no good not to
promise. Forgive me, as I forgive you. Now, say your prayers, for in a
moment we both will be standing before our Maker."
Fred bowed his head in silent prayer; but Calhoun, with his
horror-stricken face, never took his eyes from off his cousin.
"Good-bye, Calhoun," said Fred, as he raised his revolver.
"For God's sake, don't shoot! I promise." The words seemed to explode
from Calhoun's lips.
[Illustration: "For God's Sake, don't shoot! I promise."]
For a moment Fred stood as motionless as a statue, with the revolver
raised; then the weapon dropped from his nerveless hand, and with a low
moan he plunged forward on his face.
So long did he lie in a swoon that Calhoun thought he was dead, and
called to him in the most endearing tones. At last there was a slight
quivering of the limbs, then he began to moan; finally he sat up and
looked around as one dazed. Seeing Calhoun, he started, passed his hand
across his brow as if to collect his thoughts, and said, as if in
surprise: "Why, Calhoun----" Then it all came back to him in its terror
and awfulness, and he fell back sick and faint. Rallying, he struggled
to his feet, tottered to Calhoun, and cut the bonds that bound him.
"Go, go, Cal!" he whispered. "It will not do for us to be found here
together."
The two boys clasped hands for a moment, then each turned and went his
separate way.
When Fred joined Nelson an hour later the general looked at him sharply,
and asked: "What's the matter, Fred? Are you sick? You look ten years
older than you did yesterday."
"I am not really sick, but I am not feeling well, General," replied
Fred; "and I believe, with your permission, I will take an ambulance for
the rest of the day."
"Do, Fred, do," kindly replied Nelson, and for the rest of the day Fred
rode in an ambulance, where he could be alone with his thoughts.
That evening he asked General Nelson when he expected the division would
reach Savannah.
"By the 5th, if possible, on the 6th anyway," answered the general.
"Make it the 5th, General; don't let anything stop you; hurry! hurry!"
and thus saying, Fred walked away.
Nelson looked after him and muttered: "I wonder what's the matter with
the boy; he hasn't appeared himself to-day; but it may be he will be all
right in the morning. I shall take his advice and hurry, anyway."
The next day Nelson urged on his men with a fury that caused the air to
be blue with oaths. And it was well that he did, or Shiloh would have
never been reached in time to aid the gallant soldiers of Grant.
Buell saw no need of hurrying. He thought it would be a fine thing to
concentrate his whole army at Waynesborough and march into Savannah with
flying colors, showing Grant what a grand army he had. He telegraphed
General Halleck for permission to do so, and the request was readily
granted. In some manner it became known to the Confederate spies that
Buell's army was to halt at Waynesborough, and the glad tidings were
quickly borne to General Johnston, and when that general marched forth
to battle he had no expectation that he would have to meet any of
Buell's men.
General Buell hurried forward to stop Nelson at Waynesborough, according
to his plan; but to his chagrin he found that Nelson, in his headlong
haste, was already beyond Waynesborough, and so the plan of stopping him
had to be given up.
When General Nelson's advance was a little beyond Waynesborough, a party
engaged in the construction of a telegraph line from Savannah to
Nashville was met. A telegram was handed their general, which read:
TO THE OFFICER COMMANDING BUELL'S ADVANCE:
There is no need of haste; come on by easy stages.
U. S. GRANT,
Major-General Commanding.
Nelson read the telegram, and turning to Fred said:
"This is small comfort for all my hurry. I wonder if I have made a fool
of myself, after all. Buell will have the joke on me, sure."
"Better be that way than have you needed and not there," answered Fred.
"If we are needed and are not there, Grant can only blame himself," was
Nelson's reply.
At noon on April 5th Ammen's brigade, the advance of Nelson's division,
marched into Savannah.
Colonel Ammen reported his arrival, and said:
"My men are not tired; we can march on to Pittsburg Landing if
necessary."
The answer was: "Rest, and make your men comfortable. There will be no
battle at Pittsburg Landing. Boats will be sent for you in a day or
two."
There was to be a rude awakening on the morrow.
CHAPTER XIX.
SHILOH.
"The sun of Austerlitz" was neither brighter nor more glorious than the
sun which arose over the field of Shiloh Sunday morning, April 6, 1862.
Around the little log chapel, wont to echo to the voice of prayer and
song of praise, along the hillsides and in the woods, lay encamped the
Federal army. The soldiers had lain down the night before without a
thought of what this bright, sunny Sabbath would bring forth. A sense of
security pervaded the whole army. From commander down to private, there
was scarcely a thought of an attack.
"I have scarcely the faintest idea of an attack," wrote Grant to Halleck
on April 5th.
On the evening of the same day Sherman wrote to Grant: "I do not
apprehend anything like an attack upon our position."
Yet when these words were written the Confederate army was in battle array not much over three miles distant.
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