Part 38 (1/2)
A few weeks later found him on his return to the Army of the Potomac, and in his possession important dispatches that he had obtained in the rebel capital. As he left Richmond, the news reached that city of the evacuation of Yorktown by the rebels, and their retreat up the peninsula towards Williamsburgh. The effect of these tidings was anything but encouraging to those who had hoped that a final and decisive battle would have been fought at Yorktown, and the further advance of the Union troops effectually checked.
McClellan's vigorous preparations, however, for a protracted siege, had decided the rebels that it would be useless to risk a battle here, and they consequently determined to evacuate the place, which they did on the fifth of May, and by noon of the same day McClellan's army had broken camp and was in full pursuit. With such celerity did he make his movements, and so closely did he press the Confederates, that on the following day they were compelled to make a stand, and here was fought the battle of Williamsburgh, in which the rebels were defeated, and continued their retreat towards Richmond.
The army of the Potomac now continued its advance, with all the rapidity the terrible condition of the roads would permit, having for its base of supplies the York River, until two weeks later it rested between the Pamunkey and the Chickahominy. It was at this stage of affairs on the Peninsula, that Curtis was on his return trip from Richmond. With his pa.s.ses in his pocket, his dispatches securely concealed about him, and his trusty horse as his only companion, he set out for his long ride to Wilson's Landing, and the headquarters of the Union army.
It was his purpose to stop by the way long enough to at least inquire after the health of the Harcourt family, and learn how they had fared during his absence. So, pus.h.i.+ng rapidly ahead, towards the close of what had been a beautiful day in May, he, near nightfall, found himself at Farmer Harcourt's door, where he was most cordially welcomed.
His jaded horse was led to the barn to be watered and fed, while he was soon resting his tired limbs in an easy chair, while waiting a tempting supper that was almost ready for an appet.i.te keenly whetted by his long and hard day's ride.
His object now, was to stop long enough to rest himself and horse, and then push on by night and endeavor to reach the Federal lines by daybreak. Mr. Harcourt informed him that they had not been molested by McCowan since his former visit, and that it was reported that he had formed a band of Guerrillas, and at their head was pillaging and robbing the people in an adjoining county.
”He is an unscrupulous villain,” observed the old gentleman, ”and I confess I stand in no little dread that he may pay us a visit at any time, in which case, if we escape with our lives, we may consider ourselves fortunate. I have,” he added, ”fully made up my mind to take my family, leave my home here, and, if possible, go North, where a man of my way of thinking can live in security and peace. If I were younger, I would enlist, myself, but my fighting days are past.”
”I trust you may soon be able to get away from here,” said Curtis; ”and as the Union army is now advancing up the Peninsula, you can, I think, with little danger, make your way into its lines.”
He then informed him of the evacuation of Yorktown, and of the retreat of the Confederates, and advised him to hasten his arrangements to go North, while this opportunity afforded him a way to do so with safety.
After the evening meal was over the family seated themselves on a pleasant little porch, that ran along one side of the old-fas.h.i.+oned house, facing the west, and in the deepening twilight they sat and talked over the trying times, and united in their wishes for a speedy termination of the fratricidal conflict.
Thus the evening pa.s.sed until near ten o'clock, when my operative informed his friends that he must take his departure, as he was determined, if possible, to reach the Union lines by daybreak.
The whole family urged him to pa.s.s the night with them; but finding him bent on going, his horse was ordered to the door, and he prepared to take his leave.
He shook hands with the good farmer and his wife, and looked anxiously around for Mary; surely she would bid him good-bye before he went away, but she was nowhere to be seen. He even lingered a few moments, hoping she would return; she did not, however, put in an appearance; so, leaving his regards for her with her parents, he mounted his horse, and with a heavy heart rode along down the long, narrow lane that led from the house to the main road.
He could not understand why the girl should have absented herself just as he was taking his leave; could it be that he had in any way offended her, that she should avoid him on purpose? Revolving the matter in his mind, and feeling that hereafter he would take pains to avoid the Harcourt mansion, he now approached the terminus of the lane, still buried in thought, when his horse, becoming frightened, s.h.i.+ed slightly to one side; hastily raising his eyes, he saw, to his amazement, the object of his thoughts standing by the roadside.
He checked his horse, and, in a tone that betrayed his astonishment, exclaimed, ”You here, Miss Mary!”
”Yes,” she answered, evidently a little confused, ”I wanted to see you a little while alone. I trust you will pardon me for adopting the means I have to secure a short talk with you.”
By this time Curtis had dismounted, and was standing at her side.
”Well, what is it, Miss Harcourt? I am happy to be at your service in any way in my power.”
”Thank you,” she answered, hastily, ”you have placed me under obligations to you, but I venture to-night to ask one favor more.”
”It is granted already,” said Curtis.
Thanking him again, she proceeded: ”You know my brother is in the Union army, and I have not heard from him for several weeks; I wish you would try to get this letter to him, and, if it is not asking too much,” she added, hesitatingly, ”will you kindly bring me his reply, or at least some word that I may know he is safe and well?”
Curtis took the letter from her hands, and, depositing it safely in an inside pocket of his coat, he said ”I will do my best to deliver the letter, and, should I not return soon with an answer, you may know something unavoidable has detained me.”
As he stood there, gazing earnestly into the sweet face of his fair companion, a sudden purpose to then and there declare his love for her came into his mind. With him, to resolve was to act; extending his hand, he took hers in a friendly clasp, and said: ”Miss Harcourt, I am going to bid you good-bye, with the hope of seeing you again very soon; but I will not conceal from you the fact, that, in the fortunes of war, it is possible that we may never meet again. Under these circ.u.mstances, then, I make bold to tell you to-night something that, ordinarily, I would not mention until your longer acquaintance with me would make it appear more proper, at least so far as society rules are concerned.
”Miss Harcourt,” he continued, still holding the hand that now lay pa.s.sively in his, ”in the short time I have known you I have learned to love you, and I am confident time only will strengthen that love. I do not ask your answer now; when we meet again, if we do, you can tell me my fate. If your answer then should be nay, I will try to bear it like a man, respecting you none the less even if I fail to win the love I would so highly prize. Good-bye, darling!” and lightly pressing her hand to his lips, he threw himself into his saddle, and giving his n.o.ble animal the rein, dashed away, leaving Miss Harcourt standing in a half-dazed manner, straining her eyes after his figure, that in the pale moonlight was rapidly disappearing from her view.
Curtis now set off for the headquarters of the Union army. Our friend pushed on, and shortly after midnight arrived at the Landing, and from here faced about to the east, and in the direction of Williamsburgh, where the Union army, victorious in the battle just fought, were encamped.