Chapter 34

THE DEFEAT AND SURRENDER OF THE GUERILLAS

The moment Deck Lyon had given the signal for the first company to advance, he ran down the hill with all the speed he could command, to a tree where Life had hitched his horse in readiness for him. It was not the animal he had ridden from Colonel Hickman's mansion, but Ceph, the steed he had trained and used from the beginning of his career as a soldier. He was very intelligent, and seemed to understand precisely what was required of him in action; though he sometimes overdid his part, as when he tried to leap over the horse of his rider's opponent.

The lieutenant did not feel quite at home on any other horse. The baggage-wagons of the squadron had been halted in the road with a sufficient guard, and the spare horses included not a few picked up on the battle-field of Mill Springs. Ceph whinnied vigorously, and pawed the sod with his forefeet when he saw his master running down the hill. These were his expressions of rejoicing to meet his rider again.

But Deck, who was anxious to be at the head of his platoon on the field, could only pat him on the neck and stroke his nose as he unhitched him. Life had attached a sabre to the saddle for his use, for he was sure that he would want one. Mounting hastily, he disengaged the weapon, and started in the direction his company had taken. If the rider had fully informed his steed what he wanted, the animal could not have understood him any better; for he darted away at his swiftest gallop, and bounded through the valley like the flight of an arrow. Deck had slung his carbine over his shoulder, and carried the naked sabre in his hand, with the scabbard attached to his belt.

As the lieutenant advanced he obtained a view of the field, and could measure the progress of the action as far as it had gone. Four shots had been sent from the fort; though after Captain Grundy had scattered his men, the last two were less effective than the first two. Up to this time the guerilla leader evidently believed that he had no enemy except the few men in the vicinity of the mansion. It was after the second gun from the breastwork that Deck had given the signal for the advance of the second company.

At the onslaught of this company, consisting of about eighty troopers, Grundy could not help seeing that he was outnumbered two to one, and that his opponents were trained soldiers, mounted upon excellent horses; and he had no alternative but a hasty retreat. He led them in the direction of the road; but at this time Deck had given his second signal, and the first company were stretching across the field to intercept his flight. It must have been an appalling sight to him, and he saw that he must be ground to powder between the upper and the nether millstone.

Deck had reached his place at the head of his platoon, which Life Knox was glad to yield to him. Captain Gordon was on the flank at the left. His command was stretched across the field, and were a wall of steel against the farther retreat of the enemy. It was about half a mile from the second company, which was driving the guerillas before it upon the point of their sabres. The captain called a halt when the head of his column had reached what appeared to be a swamp, and faced them to the enemy, ready to charge upon the broken ranks of the ruffians.

"This can be nothing but a butchery," said Captain Gordon, as he reined in his horse in front of his second lieutenant; and his tones and his manner indicated his disgust at this sort of warfare.

"When I was in the mansion, Captain Grundy surrendered to me; but when I proposed to secure him with cords and straps, he broke away from us, and we were unable to recapture him," added Deck.

"It is not usual to bind captured prisoners," suggested the captain.

"But we had only half a dozen men, and I would not trust the fellow out of sight," replied Deck. "But I have secured my prisoners when they were guerillas, and not soldiers."

"No doubt you were right in dealing so with these ruffians," added the captain. "I think we have this gang where not one of them can escape, and perhaps we may have to bind them as you did their leader."

"There goes the recall!" exclaimed the lieutenant, as the bugle-notes sounded across the field from the right of the second company, where Major Lyon had taken his place.

"There is a white flag displayed in the centre of the enemy's line," added Captain Gordon. "Your father does not relish a butchery any more than I do."

The commander of the company took his field-glass from its case, and directed it towards the position of the major. The troopers fell back, evidently at the command of their officers, at the signal, stretching nearly across the field.

"Look through my glass, Deck, and tell me what is going on there," said the captain, as he handed the glass to the lieutenant. "There is a tall gentleman there who is a stranger to me; and he seems to be talking and gesticulating very earnestly."

"That is Colonel Hickman, and it is easy enough for me to guess what he is talking about," added Deck.

"But the major seems to be as dignified as he always is, and don't appear to be much moved by what the other is saying. But what is the matter with Colonel Hickman?"

"He believes in hanging these fellows as fast as they are taken, though perhaps he would be satisfied to see them cut down before the sabres of our men. I had to tell him squarely that no prisoner should be hung, or punished in any manner, except by the law of the land," replied Deck.

"Does he believe in firing or charging on a flag of truce?"

"Doubtless he believes that a flag in the hands of these fellows is not entitled to be respected."

"Major Lyon is the right man to settle the question, with the advice of Captain Woodbine," said Captain Gordon. "While they are discussing it, we will move forward;" and in a loud tone he gave the order to march, which was repeated by the subordinate officers.

The long line moved forward, at a walk, about half a mile, and halted forty rods in the rear of the disordered ranks of the enemy. Presently a sergeant rode across the field, passing to the left of the guerillas, and making his way to the centre of the first company. It proved to be Sergeant Fronklyn, who saluted the captain.

"It is the order of Major Lyon, Captain Gordon, that you send Sergeant Knox, with ten men, to the right of your line, to prevent the escape of any of the enemy to the swamp. Also, that you send Lieutenant Lyon to headquarters," said Fronklyn, delivering his message.

On the right of the line four of the ruffians had attempted to flee from the scene of the anticipated surrender; but Lieutenant Gadbury had ordered four of his men to fire upon them. One had been wounded, and the others had returned to the ranks. This was the occasion of the order to send Knox to the border of the swamp. Deck went with Fronklyn to the major by the same way the sergeant had come. On their arrival the lieutenant found Grundy had come over to interview the major, attended by a man bearing the flag of truce.

"You are treating these ruffians as though they were regular soldiers, Major Lyon; and I protest against it!" exclaimed Colonel Hickman, just as Deck saluted the major.

"I can answer you better when I have heard what Captain Grundy has to say," replied the major with his usual dignity and gentleness.

"He is not a captain; he has no commission or authority of any kind from the State or Nation," protested the planter.

"I can understand and appreciate your feelings, Colonel, in the face of the outrages to which you have been subjected; but I shall be greatly obliged to you if you will permit me to discharge my duty without further interruption. I have been the victim of similar indignities; but I cannot order men who probably intend to surrender, to be hung, or to be shot down in cold blood."

Upon this appeal Colonel Hickman was silent, though evidently very much against his will. Captain Grundy approached the major at a signal from him. He was asked to make the communication he sought to offer under the flag of truce.

"My troop are fighting-men; but of course, surrounded by six times their number, we should all be sabred or shot down in a few minutes. Against this odds I do not intend to fight," said the guerilla leader, who was evidently a man of some education, and conducted himself with some degree of dignity.

"Do you propose to surrender?" asked the major.

"I do, if reasonable terms are held out to me," replied Captain Grundy.

"What do you consider reasonable terms?" inquired the commander of the squadron.

"That we should lay down our arms, retain our horses, and retire to our homes, returning to our usual occupations," answered the captain of the ruffians.

"That is better terms than a defeated company of regular troops of the Confederate army would have any right to ask for or expect," added the major with a smile.

"I have named what I consider fair terms under the circumstances; and now I will ask what terms you are willing to make," continued Captain Grundy.

"No terms at all," replied Major Lyon very decidedly. "I do not regard you as soldiers in the service of the Confederacy, but as lawless marauders, cutthroats, and murderers."

"Good!" exclaimed Colonel Hickman. "That is hitting the nail on the head."

"Many gentlemen who support the Confederate side of the question have expressed the same opinions to me. I can make no terms whatever with you, Captain Grundy. The surrender must be unconditional."

"Do you propose to put us in irons, or bind us with ropes and straps, as the young officer at your side did?" demanded the guerilla chief bitterly.

"I should feel entirely justified in doing so if the circumstances required such an extreme measure; but with the ample force under my command I don't think such a step would be necessary, though my men would shoot down any one who attempted to escape."

"Your terms are very unfair and very unchivalrous; and I should judge that you were a Yankee, as I am told that you are," growled the marauder.

"Doubtless you consider the robbing of a private mansion, and threatening to hang the owner if he don't inform you where he has hidden his money, chivalrous deeds; but I do not so regard them. We are wasting time. Do you surrender, or shall I order my men to charge upon your column?" demanded the major.

"What do you intend to do with us after we have laid down our arms?" asked Captain Grundy, after he had glanced at the files of troopers on both sides of his command.

"Though the State of Kentucky is in a very disordered state, the civil law is still in force in most parts of it. I shall deliver you over to the civil government whose laws you have broken."

"Hemmed in as my men are by six times their number, I have no alternative but to surrender, unfair and outrageous as the terms are," replied the marauder, with a despairing look as he glanced again at the loyal troops that surrounded his company.

"The terms are better than you deserve, and if I had my way I would hang you to the nearest tree as a beginning!" shouted Colonel Hickman.

"I may have a chance to do you that favor, Colonel, before many weeks have gone by," added the outlaw.

"You sent for me, Major Lyon," said Deck, stepping forward, and saluting his father. "I am ready for any duty to which I may be assigned."

"Captain Woodbine wants both you and Sergeant Fronklyn as guides; for both of you have become acquainted with this locality," replied the major, as he proceeded to give orders for the conduct of the surrender.

The first company was moved up, and the guerillas marched in single file between the two, laying down their arms, though a couple of sergeants searched them for pistols and knives. Lieutenant Blenks, with the second platoon of the second company, was detailed to march the prisoners to Jamestown, which was the capital of Russell County, where they were to be delivered to the sheriff. It was not a long march, and the platoon rejoined the squadron on the bank of the Cumberland at dark.

The next day a mob took Grundy from the jail, and hung him in the village; and possibly Colonel Hickman knew more about the affair than any other single person.

The colonel was the highest type of a Kentucky gentleman, and no one not in his difficult position could fully comprehend his apparently ferocious views.