University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.

Douglas was at the piquet long enough before
the arrival of his guest, to make such arrangements
as should prevent the stranger from suspecting that
this was not the camp he was desirous to see. He
had no mind that his enemy should know the real
nature and precise position of his main strong-hold.
Hence he had determined to give him the meeting at
the piquet, and took pains to provide, as if for his
own ordinary accommodation, such a breakfast as he
would have been content to furnish at his own quarters
for the most honored visiter.

The spy, who had learned little of his profession
but that self-indulgent art which is technically
called “playing old soldier,” had been in no
haste to leave his rest, and Witt, who understood
Schwartz's game, did not hurry him. The breakfast
hour, therefore, had fully arrived before he made
his appearance. He came accompanied by Witt and

another of his party; and, in appearance and manners,
fully answered the description of him given by
Schwartz. He was a tall, red-haired man, vain,
pert, and full of self-complacency. Indeed, so
much did he display of a satisfaction, at once
chuckling and childish, that Douglas, even though
unwarned, must have suspected treachery. Besides,
he never could have believed a being, manifestly so
frivolous and foolish, capable of the high purpose of
devoting himself to a life of toil, hardship, and
danger. The vain and self-indulgent may receive
momentary impulses, under the influence of which
brilliant achievements may be suddenly accomplished;
but from such the tasks of study, virtue,
and enduring courage, must never be expected.

He seemed, at first, more intent upon his breakfast
than any thing else, and when it appeared, made
faces at his coarse fare which ill accorded with his
professed indifference to all personal inconvenience.
But, bad as it was, he contrived to swallow enough
to show that he was not prepared to play the ascetic
any more in regard to the quantity than the quality
of his food.

“You see,” said Douglas, “the life we lead. If
you are not prepared to submit cheerfully to privations,
compared to which what you see here is
luxury, you should not join us.”

“Damn luxury,” said the other. “What do I
care about luxury? To be sure, I have been used to

it all my life; coffee or tea, one, every morning for
breakfast, and good light bread, and potatoes, and
pies; and then, for dinner, pork or fresh meat, or codfish,
at least every day in the week, and all sorts of
sass, and then pies again, and cheese, and all that.
But I am ready to give it all up to serve my country,
and live as hard as any body.”

“I am glad to hear it,” said Douglas, drawing
some papers from his pocket. Among these he
affected to search in vain for a particular paper, and
in doing so, carelessly threw on the table the letter
endorsed with the name Job Dixon. He saw that
it caught the other's eyes, and, expressing some
dissatisfaction at his own carelessness, said: “You
have a right to know, before you join us, all about
our force, and I ought to show you my last return;
but I have it not at hand, though I believe I know
pretty well the number of my men. But stay,” continued
he, interrupting himself with a start, and
looking at the gallant Captain with a keenness that
made his very back ache, “How came you by my
pass-words, sir?”

“I got them from a man they call Job Dixon,”
replied the trembling Captain.

“Job Dixon!” replied Douglas, immediately resuming
his complacency; “then all is right.”

“O yes! all is right,” said the other, recovering
from his alarm, but more fluttered and confused than
ever. “He told me that wa'nt his name, sure

enough, and he said that name was only a sort of a
countersign to you.”

It cost Douglas some effort to suppress a smile at
seeing the delicate and dangerous office of a spy
undertaken by one so destitute of all the qualities
necessary to it; but he commanded himself, and
asked whether the other was now content to join
him.

“To be sure I am,” said he; “and not only I,
but fifty more as good fellows as ever stepped shoe-leather.
You see, that was what I doubted about.
I thought may be as I had such a company, I had a
right to set up for myself; but after I heard all about
you from that man, Job Dixon, or whatever else his
name is, I made up my mind to join you.”

“Where are your men?” asked Douglas.

“They are all about home yet,” said the Captain,
“but I can bring them together any day, and any
place you please to name. I suppose you don't
mean to stay up here in the mountains all the time,
and may be it might suit as well for me to fall in
with you somewhere.”

“That is true,” said Douglas. “We are not so
well off here for rations, as to want any body before
we have use for them. As long as we stay here we
are strong enough. A regiment of men could not
climb the Devil's Back-bone before our faces. But
I propose to move shortly, and should be glad of a

reinforcement on the way. What county are your
men in?”

“In Bedford county,” replied the other, repeating
his lesson exactly.

“That will do, then,” said Douglas. “I propose
to march against Mason, at Lynchburg, early in
November, and on the fifth day of the month I will
meet you at Jones's Ford, on Staunton river.”

“I cannot say that I know exactly where that is,”
said the spy.

“It is little out of your way into any part of Bedford
county,” said Douglas; “and as I want to see
some of our friends down in that quarter, I will ride
there with you. I am told Mason is pretty strong,
and I want to get all the force I can, and that is not
so much but what I shall be glad of your help.”

“How many men have you?” asked the Yankee
Captain.

“I have but a handful here, just now; but I am
sending out orders for more to join on the route, and
I am in hopes to reach the river with four hundred
at least. I shall stay there, at all events, till more
come in; because it would be foolish to attack
Mason's regiment with less than five or six hundred.”

“That will do,” said the other; “for Mason is
not more than four hundred strong.”

“Indeed!” replied Douglas, affecting surprise
and pleasure. “Then I am pretty sure of him. I
had heard as much before, but I don't trust every

body. I was afraid there was a trap set for me; but
now I am satisfied, and if I can leave Staunton river
with six hundred men, I shall gather force enough
before I get to Lynchburg to drive Mason and his
regiment before me like chaff.”

Having said this, Douglas set about the necessary
arrangements for accompanying his new acquaintance
to Jones's Ford. As the distance was too
great for one day, he proposed to pass the night at
the house of a trusty friend, from whence the Yankee
officer would have it in his power to reach a tavern,
two miles beyond the river, the next day. He now
despatched a note to Arthur, saying that he wished
to examine the ground at the river, in company with
him and Schwartz. He therefore directed them to
follow at a cautious distance, so as not to be seen
by the spy; to pass them in the night, and take up
their quarters at a house in advance, and the next
day proceed to the dwelling of Mr. Gordon, (a
staunch friend,) near the river, and wait for him
there. Meantime a horse, that stood piqueted hard
by, was saddled, and Douglas set out, accompanied
by the treacherous Captain and the faithful Witt.

The journey was made without any occurrence
worth noting. In the conversation of the stranger
there was nothing to beguile Douglas from his own
thoughts. The vain babble of the prating coxcomb
was all wasted on the impenetrable Witt; and, after
a few fruitless attempts to overcome the taciturnity

of his companions, he followed their example, and
the greater part of the journey was made in silence.
Late on the second evening they reached the river.
The spy was directed to the public house on the
other side, and Douglas and Witt returned to Mr.
Gordon's, where they found Arthur and Schwartz.

As they were now in a land of civilization and
comfort, Douglas was not sorry to obtain, once
more, a good night's lodging, which his hospitable
friend was delighted to afford. But this rare enjoyment
did not make him forgetful of the necessity of
watching the motions of his enemy. He accordingly
despatched a scout to the house to which the Yankee
had been directed, to make sure that he had gone on.

At a late hour the man returned, and roused
Douglas to inform him that the spy had indeed
gone as far as he had intended, and that he had
there fallen in with a party of a dozen dragoons,
commanded by a subaltern, who were on a scout
through the country. With this officer he had been
seen to be engaged in private and earnest conversation,
and orders had been issued to the men to look
well to the condition of their arms, and to be in readiness
to move at day-light.

It at once occurred to Douglas that a new scheme
had entered the head of the vain and frivolous being
who had thrust himself into an affair requiring
qualities so different. It was probable that he wished
to avail himself of the presence of this little party to

endeavor to surprise his enemy, whom he had reason
to believe to be still near the Ford. The folly of
risking the defeat of his favorite enterprise by
joining in the attempt, and thus throwing off his
mask, was not likely to occur to him. The question
with Douglas was, whether by abiding the attack he
should afford the bungling fool, whom he had been
leading into his own trap, a chance to escape from
it by his own blunder. In this apprehension, however,
he did not give that worthy due credit for his
discretion. He had indeed considered Douglas as
his proper prey; and though he had been unable to
restrain his disposition to babble, he sorely repented
his indiscretion, when he found the other officer
disposed to anticipate him. He had accordingly
earnestly dissuaded him from attempting any thing;
and, not prevailing in this, had determined to go on
alone, and leave the other to execute his project as
he might.

But though uncertain what might be the conduct
of the spy, Douglas could not resist his inclination
to throw himself in the way of the expected attack.
It was necessary that he should examine the ground
carefully, and he had not time to wait until the
scouting party should have left the neighborhood.
Besides, he was anxious to inform himself precisely
of the force and position of the enemy, and the name
of their new commander. For this purpose he was
eager to make at least one prisoner. And, after all,

perhaps not the least moving consideration, was his
desire to taste once more the stormy joy of battle.

Upon the whole, he determined to turn the tables
on his enemy, if possible; and, instead of returning
to bed, prepared immediately for action. All things
were soon ready. The master of the house, his two
sons, and three of the neighbors, who, hearing that
he was there, had called to see him, added to his own
party, made a force of ten men, with which he was
not afraid to abide the attack of thirteen. At the
head of these he took the road, and by daylight had
occupied the ground where he wished to meet the
enemy.

At the point of which we speak, the road, after
passing for some miles over a broad and level ridge,
at the distance of a quarter of a mile from the river,
dives suddenly into a steep defile between two hills.
The descent is rapid, and, in less than a hundred
yards, the hills come down abruptly on either hand,
leaving between them barely space enough for the
road, which is quite narrow. They are steep,
rugged, with projecting rocks, and altogether impracticable
to cavalry; and are moreover covered with a
heavy growth of timber and brushwood. At the
distance of about two hundred yards from the plain
above, the road turns sharp to the right. It then
pursues a course nearly direct, for a like distance;
and then, turning short to the left, the river, ford,
and the opposite landing, are at once in full view.

A point a little below the first mentioned bend
was selected by Douglas for his position. He
posted Witt and three others on one side of the
road, behind rocks and trees, while he, Arthur, and
one more, disposed themselves, in like manner, on
the other. Schwartz, with the rest, passed through
the defile, with orders to hide themselves near the
bank, and let the enemy pass without interruption.
A pole had been thrown across the road, some
twenty yards in front of Douglas and his party. The
crossing of this, by the enemy, was to be the signal for
firing. The officer was designated to be the mark
of Witt. The right and left hand man of the leading
file, had each his appropriate executioner
appointed; then the two next, and then two more,
were in like manner foredoomed, so that no shot
should be thrown away. While these arrangements
were making, Arthur bethought him of Schwartz's
lecture on tactics, and was at once sensible of the
vast superiority of untaught courage and sagacity,
on occasions like this, over the sort of discipline on
which the martinet is so apt to pride himself.

About sunrise, the enemy appeared, consisting,
as the scout had said, of a dozen men, under the
command of a single officer. To the great relief of
Douglas, the redoubtable Yankee Captain was not
with them. As the hill was steep, they advanced in
a walk, while the officer, who was in the rear,
occasionally turned his horse's head to the hill, seeming

to examine for some recess in which his party
might draw aside, and form a sort of ambuscade.
But there was no such spot. The ground was every
where too steep for cavalry; and, disappointed, he
put spurs to his horse, and pushed forward to resume
his place at the head of the party. They were now
near the fatal point; every rifle was in rest, and duly
levelled at its mark, and in the moment that the
leading file were crossing the pole, six saddles were
emptied, and six horses ran masterless. The aim of
Witt at the officer, who was much more distant, and
moving rapidly, was less fatal. But his ball took
effect, as was plainly shown by the sword arm,
which, at the moment, fell powerless. The men
went to the right about in a moment, and a shout,
which the echoes of the steep gorge multiplied into
a hundred voices, sent them down the hill at full
speed.

The officer, though wounded, was not quite so
ready to take to his heels, and called to his men to
halt. With all but one, he succeeded; but that
one, wild with terror, dashed on. In the mean time,
Schwartz and his little party had planted themselves
in the road, near the river, and their array was the
first object that met the eye of the affrighted soldier
as he turned the angle of the road. But panic is
as apt to hurry a man into danger as away from it,
and the sight of this new enemy only urged the
poor wretch to a more desperate effort to escape,

by breaking by them. In vain did the men throw
up their arms, and call to him to stop. He rushed
on, right upon Schwartz, who stood in the middle
of the road, and who, as a dernier resort, stopped
his career with a bullet. The report of his rifle, and
a glimpse of Douglas's men advancing along the
side of the hill to get within shot, decided the officer
that it was time to look to his safety. Turning the
angle of the road, he saw the fate of his fallen
soldier, and the cause of it. Immediately calling
on his men to follow, he dashed on with an impetuosity
which showed a determination to force a
passage or perish.

The result was inevitable. Schwartz was in the
act of loading his rifle. The other three leveled
theirs. They had not been trained in Schwartz's
school of tactics, and all three, attracted by the epaulette
and plume and sash of the officer, fired at
him. He fell dead, and the rest, perceiving their
advantage, rushed on the mountaneers, who, of necessity,
sprang aside, and let them pass. One of
them was not so nimble, but that, as he clambered
up the rocky face of the hill, a sweeping back-handed
stroke inflicted a deep gash in the back part of his
thigh. This was the only injury received by the
party of Douglas in the affair, and dearly did it cost
the man who gave it. Schwartz marked him, and
coolly went on loading his rifle. By the time he had
effected this, the soldier was half way across the

river, and, the next moment, tumbled from his horse,
and went floating down the stream. The other five
gained the shore before another rifle could be loaded,
and, doubling a rocky point around which the road
turned, disappeared.