Part 11 (2/2)
The long sunset shadows were rapidly stealing over the velvet sward as the company rose from table, adding a new charm to the beauty of the scene. Everywhere the gra.s.s was dotted with groups of elegant ladies and gentlemen, and merry children, in light summer dresses and quaintly pretty uniforms. The little camp, with the stacks of guns down its centre, the bayonets flas.h.i.+ng in the last rays of the sun, was all crowded and brilliant with happy people; looking into the tents and admiring their exquisite order, inspecting the bright muskets, and listening eagerly or good-humoredly, as they happened to be children or grown people, to the explanations and comments of the Zouaves.
And on the little gra.s.sy knoll, where the flag staff was planted, central figure of the scene, stood Colonel Freddy, silent and thoughtful for the first time to-day, with Jerry beside him. The old man had scarcely left his side since the boy took the flag; he would permit no one else to wait upon him at table, and his eyes followed him as he moved among the gay crowd, with a glance of the utmost pride and affection. The old volunteer seemed to feel that the heart of a soldier beat beneath the little dandy ruffled s.h.i.+rt and gold-laced jacket of the young Colonel. Suddenly, the boy s.n.a.t.c.hes up again the regimental colors; the Stars and Stripes, and little Jessie's flag, and shakes them out to the evening breeze; and as they flash into view and once more the cheers of the Zouaves greet their colors, he says, with quivering lip and flas.h.i.+ng eye, ”Jerry, if G.o.d spares me to be a man, I'll live and die a soldier!”
The soft evening light was deepening into night, and the beautiful planet Venus rising in the west, when the visitors bade adieu to the camp; the Zouaves were shaken hands with until their wrists fairly ached; and then they all shook hands with ”dear” Jessie, as Charley was heard to call her before the end of the day, and heard her say in her soft little voice how sorry she was they must go to-morrow (though she certainly couldn't have been sorrier than _they_ were), and then the good people all got into their carriages again, and drove off; waving their handkerchiefs for good-by as long as the camp could be seen; and so, with the sound of the last wheels dying away in the distance, ended the very end of
THE GRAND REVIEW.
CHAPTER V.--AND LAST.
”HOME, SWEET HOME.”
AND now, at last, had come that ”day of disaster,” when Camp McClellan must be deserted. The very sun didn't s.h.i.+ne so brilliantly as usual, thought the Zouaves; and it was positively certain that the past five days, although they had occurred in the middle of summer, were the very shortest ever known! Eleven o'clock was the hour appointed for the breaking up of the camp, in order that they might return to the city by the early afternoon boat.
”Is it possible we have been here a week?” exclaimed Jimmy, as he sat down to breakfast. ”It seems as if we had only come yesterday.”
”What a jolly time it has been!” chimed in Charley Spicer. ”I don't want to go to Newport a bit. Where are you going, Tom?”
”To Baltimore--but I don't mean to Seces.h.!.+” added Tom, with a little blush. ”I have a cousin in the Palmetto Guards at Charleston, and that's one too many rebels in the family.”
”Never mind!” cried George Chadwick; ”the Pringles are a first rate family; the rest of you are loyal enough, I'm sure!” and George gave Tom such a slap on the back, in token of his good will, that it quite brought the tears into his eyes.
When breakfast was over, the Zouaves repaired to their tents, and proceeded to pack their clothes away out of the lockers. They were not very scientific packers, and, in fact, the usual mode of doing the business was to ram everything higgledy-piggledy into their valises, and then jump on them until they consented to come together and be locked.
Presently Jerry came trotting down with a donkey cart used on the farm, and under his directions the boys folded their blankets neatly up, and placed them in the vehicle, which then drove off with its load, leaving them to get out and pile together the other furnis.h.i.+ngs of the tents; for, of course, as soldiers, they were expected to wind up their own affairs, and we all know that boys will do considerable _hard work_ when it comes in the form of _play_. Just as the cart, with its vicious little wrong-headed steed, had tugged, and jerked, and worried itself out of sight, a light basket carriage, drawn by two das.h.i.+ng black Canadian ponies, drew up opposite the camp, and the reins were let fall by a young lady in a saucy ”pork pie” straw hat, who was driving--no other than Miss Carlton, with Jessie beside her. The boys eagerly surrounded the little carriage, and Miss Carlton said, laughing, ”Jessie begged so hard for a last look at the camp, that I had to bring her. So you are really going away?”
”Really,” repeated Freddy; ”but I am so glad you came, Miss Jessie, just in time to see us off.”
”You know soldiers take themselves away houses and all,” said George; ”you will see the tents come down with a run presently.”
”And here comes Jerry to help us!” added Harry. As he spoke, the donkey cart rattled up, and Jerry, touching his cap to the ladies, got out, and prepared to superintend the downfall of the tents. By his directions, two of the Zouaves went to each tent, and pulled the stakes first from one corner, then the other; then they grasped firmly the pole which supported the centre, and when the sergeant e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed ”Now!” like a flas.h.!.+ the tents slid smoothly to the ground all at the same moment, just as you may have made a row of blocks fall down by upsetting the first one.
And now came the last ceremony, the hauling down of the flag.
”Stand by to fire a salute!” shouted Jerry, and instantly a company was detached, who brought the six little cannon under the flagstaff, and charged them with the last of the double headers, saved for this purpose; Freddy stood close to the flagstaff, with the halyards ready in his hands. Crack! fizz! went six matches for the cannon. ”Make ready!
apply light, FIRE!”
BANG! and the folds of the flag stream out proudly in the breeze, as it rapidly descends the halyards, and flutters softly to the greensward.
There was perfectly dead silence for a moment; then the voice of Mr.
Schermerhorn was heard calling, ”Come, boys, are you ready? Jump in, then, it is time to start for the boat.” The boys turned and saw the carriages which had brought them so merrily to the camp waiting to convey them once more to the wharf; while a man belonging to the farm was rapidly piling the regimental luggage into a wagon.
With sorrowful faces the Zouaves cl.u.s.tered around the pretty pony chaise; shaking hands once more with Jessie, and internally vowing to adore her as long as they lived. Then they got into the carriages, and old Jerry grasped Freddy's hand with an affectionate ”Good-by, my little Colonel, G.o.d bless ye! Old Jerry won't never forget your n.o.ble face as long as he lives.” It would have seemed like insulting the old man to offer him money in return for his loving admiration, but the handsome gilt-edged Bible that found its way to him soon after the departure of the regiment, was inscribed with the irregular schoolboy signature of ”Freddy Jourdain, with love to his old friend Jeremiah Pike.”
As for the regimental standards, they were found to be rather beyond the capacity of a rockaway crammed full of Zouaves, so Tom insisted on riding on top of the baggage, that he might have the pleasure of carrying them all the way. Up he mounted, as brisk as a lamplighter, with that monkey, Peter, after him, the flags were handed up, and with three ringing cheers, the vehicles started at a rapid trot, and the regiment was fairly off. They almost broke their necks leaning back to see the last of ”dear Jessie,” until the locusts hid them from sight, when they relapsed into somewhat dismal silence for full five minutes.
As Peter was going on to Niagara with his father, Mr. Schermerhorn accompanied the regiment to the city, which looked dustier and red brickier (what a word!) than ever, now that they were fresh from the lovely green of the country. By Mr. Schermerhorn's advice, the party took possession of two empty Fifth avenue stages which happened to be waiting at the Fulton ferry, and rode slowly up Broadway to Chambers street, where Peter and his father bid them good-by, and went off to the depot. As Peter had declined changing his clothes before he left, they had to travel all the way to Buffalo with our young friend in this unusual guise; but, as people had become used to seeing soldiers parading about in uniform, they didn't seem particularly surprised, whereat Master Peter was rather disappointed.
To go back to the Zouaves, however. When the stages turned into Fifth avenue, they decided to get out; and after forming their ranks in fine style, they marched up the avenue, on the sidewalk this time, stopping at the various houses or street corners where they must bid adieu to one and another of their number, promising to see each other again as soon as possible.
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