Bernard Wayde.

Along the Potomac, or, Fighting Pat, of the Irish Brigade online

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VOL.7. -; ""gf^ESg""-: NEW YORK. ("■■tiS'Ai?.."""-; NO. 2.5ti





^ or, Fighting Pat, of tlie
J Irisli Brigade.



By Bernard Wayde.




The Irish scout hunted like a mad wolf in the forest.



NcU



THE WAR LIBRARY.



ALONG THE POTOMAC ;



Fighting Pat, of th e irisli Brigade.

BY BERNARD WAYDE.



CHAPTER I.

ONE OF CORCOEAX'S BOTS.

"We'll make another Foutenoy of it."

" Fonteuoy, indeed ! Remember you have
not the same men to deal with. The French
and their Irish allies -n-ere at that time pit-
ted against the old oppressor, England.
Hang it, man, you make too much of a dis-
tinction. These men think like yourself
that they are right in protecting the land of
their birth."

"That is, that they are to propagate and
protect slavery ?" sneeringly.

"Even so; and. whether they be right or
wrong, let us give them the praise their
valor deserves ; for braver soldiers I never
met in this or the older country."

The foregoing conversation occurred to-
ward the fall of 'G2; and, it may not be
amiss to state, in the wine-room of one of
the most valiant Irish soldiers that ever
drew a sword for the preservation of the
land that generously extended to him a
home, when the old tyrant, Britain, had
driven him and his family from possessions
rightfully theirs.

You will ask, and naturally, who this
was?

In all reverence, we answer. General
Michael Corcoran, the organizer and com-
mander of the brave and chivalrous Irish



Legio
Tht



: last speaker was an old and grizzled
reteran, who had on many a bloody Held
distinguished himself as a tried and honor-
ed soldier.

The majority of Irishmen present — and
there were nearly a score — applauded his
generous speech ; but, like all assemblages
of the kind, there were a few dissentient
voices.

Among the rest, a dark-bearded, power-
fuUy-built man, who was of somewhat
douDtfulreputatiou amoBg his companions,
and not without a cause, either.

He had been in Ireland what is known as
a "middleman"— a class most abhorred by
all true men.

Neither in name nor feeling could he be
called Irish. In fact, he was of the "under-
taker " class whose ancestry came in with
William of Orange, and stole and confiscat-
ed the lands from their rightful owners.

Jerry Hynes, so long as his petty acts of
villainy paid, was one of the strongest sup-
porters of English ruie.

The moment his occupation as a robber of
the people failed him, he started for the
land of the stars and stripes, and took upon
himself, both in and out of season, to vin-
dicate the off-repeated cry : " Ireland for
the Irish."

The man's villanies had gone before him,
and he was looked upon in anything but a
favorable light by those with whom he
oame in contact.

This did not abash this former traducer of
his so-called countrymen.

His brazen impudence carried him
through it all ; and, as the Irish race are
proverbially generous, they seemed in a
great measure to condone his shortcomings,
as they were known in the "old coun-
try."

As the man Hynes will figure prominently
in the following pages, this can be our only
excuse for introducing him at such length
to our readers.

The conversation had been progressing for
some time on the merits and demerits of
the Southern chivalry, the grizzled hero, to
whom we have refered, taking a prominent
part in the discussion, most of the others be-
mg simply listeners to the arguments pro
and con, applauding any good point when
made by one or the other.

Jerry Hynes had what is vulgarly called
the " gift of the gab," and so far held his
own pretty well.

When the conversation had reached the

Eoint we have described, a new arrival
astily sntered the wine-room; and, with-
out attempting to intrude on the company,
called, in a pure Connemara accent :

" A drink of the best potheen you have in
the house!"

The men at the bar were instantly attract-
ed to the stranger.

Not because he had uttered a name famil-
j.l*r to them all — "potheen " — whisky.
Qaite tbe reverse. — —



The man himself was a wonder. I

He was over six feet iu height, of great
lireadth of shoulders, and of a form that
was singularly lithe and active.

Kor was this all.

His face was unmistakably Celtic, with a
regularity of feature and expressiveness that
was uncommon— nay, even handsome.

He was, moreover, a new arrival in the
country— a genuine importation from the
"Laud of Saints"— for so has Ireland been
termed from remote ages

"he man behind the 1
ipany, as much as to s
We'll have some fun with the stranger
before we're done with him."

A few in the crowd winked in return,
while Jerry Hynes, from some unmistakable
cause, turned as pale as death.

Potheeu.did you say.my friend ?" queried

sharp

lap.

The fresh arrival in New York knew at a
single glance that be was being made fun of.

" And what may potheen be, if it's a fair
question ? We have all sorts of drinks, but
never heard of that. Perhaps you are from
the great West?" familiarly.

" Yes— from tlie Ulth: West — a place called
Connemara. You may have heard of it'i"'

"'Ponmy life, no," said the barkeeper,
again winking at the lompany.

He tlu'iiLlit tliU great chaff-so did a few

"Then it iiiust l>e'a Connemara drink,"
continued the man of drinks, purposely mis-
pronouncing the word.

Then came a loud laugh— only from a few
of the assemblage, however— those who cur-
ried favor with the would-be wit.

val was getting both impa-



tieir



I'oufo



whisky is:-

" Oh, you mean whisky then ? Why didn't
you say so? What is it to be ?"

" Oh, give him chain-lightning ! " cried one
of the crowd. "Perhaps he's steel-plated
and copper-bottomed."

This was going beyond a joke.

"Look here,sir,"saidthe new-comer, turn-
ing full upon the last speaker ; " however I
may take the impertinence of the little jack-
anapes behind the counter, I take none from
you. Ha! "

The exclamation was hissed out, rather
than spoken, as the young Irishman caught
sight of Jerry Hynes.

The former laud-grabber quickly averted
his face.

But too late.

He was recognized.

Then, without heeding the man who was
endeavoring to have a little fun at his ex-
pense, with one bound he sprung into the
midst of the company, and seizing Hynes by
the throat shook him as a terrier would a
rat.

" Aha ! and so we have met again, accursed
traitor, and murderer of my brother ! Oh,
but I would have given half my life but yes-
terday for this meeting ! Curse you— curse
you!"

The voice and fiercely-spoken words of the
new-comer were terriblem their significance.

Did any of my readers ever behold a scene
where the power of will, magnetic power-
call it what you like— Insptred the bravest
and strongest with awB.

The man's passion was terrible ; his voice
made the boldest blanch, and, in his hands,
the powerful and brutal Jerry Hynes was
but as a child.

Even the barkeeper behind the counter
turned as white as a corose.

"Mercy! help! I oholie! I die!" gasped
the wretched Jerry.

It was then that a revulsion of feeling
came.

The grizzled veteran of n umerous wars
was the first to spring forward.

" Do not murder the man!" he thundered
out. " Release him at once ! If he has done
anything against you, or your family, that is
no way to treat him."

The man who had nobly distinguished
himself on many a field of honor and blood
was fairly aroused to the exigencies of the
occasion ; and his example was followed by
many others, who, up to this, had been spell-
bound and terror-stricken.

There was a combined rush made upon the
infuriated man.

They clinched with him ; but not before he
had hurled Hynes from him.

The nearly suffocated man feU to the floor
like a limp rag.

Crash be went, and lay as one lifeless



The stranger, nothing daunted liy the rush
made upon him, now, like an infuriated
tiger, turned his attention to the men who
grappled with him.

Had they known the real power of his
arm they would have acted wisely to have
kept out of his reach, for down they went,
one after another, with a rapidity perfectly
indescribable.

Talking of the blows of your champion
prize-fighter : they were nothing in compar-

And now we come to think of a case which
occurred in a London street, where a broad-
shouldered, hard-fisted Irishman, late from
the Wexford hills, held his own against fif-
teen policemen, and, with a lilow of his flst,
struck one of them dead ; f oi' which display
of prowess he was sentenced to twenty years'
penal servitude.

Poor fellow ! he might have distinguished
himself in a more noble field of action. How-
ever, he was the assailed and not the assail'
ant.
But to return.

In all directions went the men who had
rushed upon the "greenhorn," and, as they
tumbled over each other, the sight was of a
nature most ludicrous.

Blows rattled about their heads fast and
furious, and, the instant they came up, down
they again went.

The success of the combat was all too one-
sided to be pleasant.

No doubt more dangerous weapons than
fists would finally have been used but for the
advent of Michael Corcoran himself, who
had just entered.

"Halloo!" was his first exclamation,
" What is this ?"
The men on the floor presented a mosl
orry appearance, and those who might, in
the heat of passion, have drawn revolvers,,
were prevented from so doing by the timely
arrival of the gallant proprietor.

The stranger's back was turned to the
colonel of the Irish Legion, which was then
being organized, and it was not until Cor-
coran had spoken that he turned and faced
him with flashing eye and lowering brow,
boding little good to any new-comer who
might be likely to interfere.

The presence of Corcoran had, however,
an almost magical effect on the man.

The lowering brow for a moment became
wreathed in a smile of recognition. Next a
look of shame overspread it, then the eyes
were cast toward the ground.

What had caused this marvelous change in
one, who a moment before had given every
pioof of a lion-like courage ? Not only that,
indeed, but a ferocity tigerish in its power-
in its fearful intensity and violence ?

It was simply that the two men had recog-
nized each other- that the one looked upon
the other as the only true friend he had ever
had.

Corcoran approached the young man, and
laying his hand gently on his broad shoul-
der, said :
" I expected you, Pat. I am very glad to

see that you arrived safely, but "

" You did not expect to find me making i>
blackguard of myself," said the other,
abashed.

" Do not say that, Pat ! You should not
apply opprobrious epithets to yourself. I
am sure if the truth were known," pointing
to his scowling opponents, "they were more
in fault than you. I should be sorry to
think otherwise."

"I shall blame no one but myself," was
the young fellow's simple reply. " I suppose
it's all due to my ignorance of the ways of
the country."

In his shame and bitterness of heart at be-
ing caught in a low quarrel with strangers,
he had even forgotten for the time the exist-
ence and presence of his deadly enemy— Jerry
Hynes.
Corcoran shook his head doubtingly.
It was evident that he did not attribute
the late unseemly broil to his protege.
Far from it.

There was something more in it all, how-
ever, than he could just then fathom.

Besides, those who had suffered at the
hands of the impetuous young Irishman,
were to a man unwilling to come forward
and give a true version of the affair.

It 13 too late in the day to advance the ab-
surd aphorism that a good man likes the fel-
low who gives him a downright thrashing
better than he whom he thrashes.

Many in that company subsequently dis-
tinguished themselves as heroes, and yet
they looked with no little ill-will upon the
youth who floored them with such terriflo
right and left handers.
"Boys!" said the gallant Michael,



THE WAR LIBRARY.



mg the assemblage, " howeTer this row has
come about matters little. I want vou now
to be all good friends. Come, look up, Pat.
This, gentlemen, is my nephew, Pat Moouey ,
as good and true a man as ever laft the old
sod. I may tell you I expected his arrival
this very day. By some means I had th
misfortune to miss him. However, here h
Is, and I want you to make up your littl
differences and be friends, for he is one of
Ours— a lad of the Irish Legion !"



CHAPTER II.

A MURDEROUS ATTACK.

An Irishman, proverbially, is quick to an-
ger, and quick to forgive.

No sooner had they heard the announce-
ment of Gennral Corcoran— at that time col-
onel—than with many hearty welcomes, they
gathered around their new comrade, shak-
mg him, each in turn, warmly by the hand.

'• Cacd miUc faiUhc !" said one.

" Glory to you ! " said another.

"Arrahl but he's the boy for



broke



shindy,'



illl



dies, " a fourth added.as he took the big brown
hand of the new arrival in his own and gave
It a hearty shake.

"So all is forgiven," said Pat, delighted at
the turn of affairs.

"Be me sowl, I'd like to see who'd say
nay agm' that," rejoined a wiry little man
called Byrne. " You came down on me like
a telegraph pole, but here's me hand ; and
npw let us all have a drink on the strength

This proposal met with ready acquiescent^
on the part of the rest of the company, and
they all went up to the bar.

The bartender, the cause of the row in the
first instance, could not be found.

He m ust have got scared and bolted duriu'
the fracas.

Hisi



teered to do the honors of the

While the drinks were being served, some
one bethought him of the half-strangled
Jerry Hyues.

This individual had also disappeared.

There was uo duub; be had a wholesome
dread of the redoubtable Pat Mooney, and
for a very good cause had no wish to re-
main.

But moi-i' III" tli;s ht-reafter.

Wecaiij.iiiy~;iy that the greater portion
ot that 111,-lit was siMut very pleasantly amid
song ami ,]itkt' am] story.

That day week the boys of the Irish Legion
woiild be fully equipped and on their way
to Washington from which point they were
to join MoClellau's army and the gallant



The colonel could, however, see about a
dozen black figures, emerging from the
shadow of the houses on their side of the
street.

Tliere seemed to be a score in all, with those
who had already sprung forward .

Not a bit daunted by the number of his as-
sailants, the gallant Michael, as quick as a
flash, drew his revolver, and staudins over
his fallen nephew, determined
sell his life dearly, but to protect
Pat Moouey at all hazards.

Their assailants seemed to hesitate for a
moment whether they should come on or



5nly t
falle



the



< of the party, who kept
Huid. decided them.
KiUi a suuultaneousrush.
t till' rommauding voice
iruoiau. " The fli-st man
■ step does so at the risk



Inst thought that Hyues would
:ion. But he did nothing of the
ith very little difficulty he ob-
uster to Meagher's brigade then



iorry that
very niau
veritable

iauized aud



ved



the



Meagher and his Irish contingent force.

"\es, boys," said Corcoran, during
avenmg, "my nephew, Pat, has come all
way from the Green Isle to join us. You
have had a specimen of hisprowess,audif he
does only half as well on the field, as he" has
done to-mght, I'll be well satisfied with him "
. Of course the company were unanimous
in their praises of the young fellows pluck,
and expressed themselves as only too proud
that he was to be one of themselves

By the time they parted that night Jerry
Hyues and his past villauies were for the
time, at any rate, forgotten.

Hyues was a rough man, and had a rough
crowd to back him up— for who that has
money cannot get a following in New York
to obey his lightest behest ?

Then under the circumstances Hynes could
be a dangerous enemy.

It had been his intention to have followed
the fortunes of the legion in the field, for



aud accepted by



been
him

However, let that for the present pass ; we
will deal more effectually with Hynes and
his aspirations, or whatever else they mav
be termed, hereafter. '^ '

Michael Corcoran and his nephew were
about the last to leave the room, and when
they had issued into the open air they
■walked along Prince street in the direction
of Broadway.

In fact, Corcoran at the time put up at one
of the hotels on that busy thoroughfare.

As they neared Broadway, conversing on
the prospects of their native land, a sudden
rush was made from their rear, and before
the stalwart Pat could turn to defend him-
self, he received a fearful blow from a slung-
Bhot that knocked him senseless.

Corcoran turned just in time to avoid a
second blow aimed at his own head

The night was very dark as it happened,
stad tbe feeble glitter of a lamp some disi |



" Halt
of the fear
that comes
of his life!"
There was no mistaking his demeanor.
They had now a man to deal with who
feared no mortalliving— a born leader of men
—and those who were so intent on their
grand rush, drew back as though some pow-
erful electric shock had met them.

Such is the force that at rare intervals one
mind exercises over many !

No one ever met Corcoran, but had to ac-
knowledge the same.

It was not the colonel's pistol that had
such a marvelous effect on his assailants— it
was, in fact, the man's whole nature— full
of an uumistakable power to command, and
be obliged !

A smile of scorn curled Corcorau's lips as
he beheld the effect of his speech.

"Do you call yourselves men," he cou-
tinued, intones of withering contempt, "for
twenty of you to attack two, and behind
their backs at that ? I am quite ignorant as
to whom you are or the object of your mur-
derous assault^for I know not but vou
have killed one as near to me as life. "Oh
cowards! cowards! Dearly shall you rue
your part in this night's work '"

The gallant colonel's heart was wrung
with anguish as his eyes fell on the motion-
less form at his feet.

For an instaut the hand in which he held
the revolver trembled, aud as if a spasm of
emotion had overcome him, the muzzle of
the weapon was instinctively lowered.

Then, and not till then, was the charm
broken.

The man who had been urging them on
before cried now in a hoarse whisper:

Spring upon him— spring upon him!
Are you all afraid ? Now isyour time!"

It would have been impossible to have
recognized this man's voice, so fearfully
bitter were the words hissed out.
, As to himself, he was completely hidden
m the gloom. f j

"At him— at him!" urged the leader of
these desperadoes.
There was no longer hesitation.
There was a wild rush.
Crack ! crack ! crack !

Three heavy thuds on the paved sidewalk
told the accuracy of Corcoran 3 aim, as a
number of yells went up into the night.

Again and again went the startling re-
ports of the deadly revolver.
Two more had fallen !

Then came a rush of heavy steps from
Broadway. Aid was at hand I

Corcorau's assailants did not wait to see
who were coming.

They broke and ran as fast as their le^s
could carry them in the direction of tuv.
Bowery, leaving their dead and wounded
where they had fallen.



dillioi



CHAPTER III.

ON THE POTOMAC.

A week elapsed since Corcorau's gallant
stand on Prince street. =''"aui,

Pat Mooney, who had been stricken sense-
less on that night, recovered sufficiently to
join the ranks of the Irish Legion.

Ihoughthe two relatives had never dis-
covered who the instigator of their murder-
?hv«w^^^Jl''°!t'^*^?^ ^^^ ^^<J nevertheless a
threwd idea that it was none other than his
old and bitter enemy, Jerry Hy

Pat never mentioned his s
Corcoran, not wishing to embrolThi'
anyaffairof his; and now that they were
m^lit«,.,. Fi?'°k°* entering upon an active
militaiy life, there was, in a great measure,
a gulf placed between them, which must
necessarily prevent their former meetings.

This, of course, the exigencies of the ser-



suspicions to



liKlr.d, iiiu.ti lia.l to be done before the
L.'.^'.on rouM 11, ov,. to the front. The men
had to l>e luured to camp lite, aud taught
the rudiments of their military education.

The art of war cannot be learned in a day,
and however apt the recruit is, it becomes
necessary to familiarize him with company
and battalion drill, as well as the value of
obedience— the first duty of a soldier.

For over five weeks Colonel Corcoran aud
his officers had all on their hands they could
very well attend to.

Discipline had to be maintained. Undue
familiarity between officers and men, the
result of old-time acquaintance, had to be
relentlessly crushed out.
The latter at first was a thing of no little
Tlie soldier in the ranks could
not tor Ills lili- see why he should not be on
till' sanio siH-akiug terms as previously with
uiajor oicaplaiu so-and-so as he had been
beluie joiuing the Legion.

He presently found out his mistake, and
soon conformed to the principles involved
in his new life; but not, however, before he
had been severely punished for disobe-
dience.

" I mean making the Legion a mode" jne,"
said Colonel Corcoran. And he did.

Soldiers aud officers were drilled from
morning till night, aud the camp presented
a scene of bustle and activity seldom or ever
witnessed.

It was about closing of the sixth week
when the Legiou got the order to proceed to

l!cii> tlioy were met by thousands of their
coimtiyiurii amidst the wildest enthusiasm.
l-'<ii's KiTi' given in their houor, aud their
spl.-mlid soldierlike appearance was warmly

" ' "^ '■" all classes in the couimuuity.

e not to remain King in the Capi-
uu; uuL a little incident occurred during
their lirief stay which we shall now proceed
to relate, the more so as it is connected with
two prominent characters of our story.

The membei-3 of the Irish Legiou had
pitched their tents somewhere In the vicinity
of the banks of the Potomac.

It was about the third night after their ar-
rival iu Washingtou— a crisp, beautiful moon-
light night, by the way— that Fighting Pat
was pacing his post on the east side of the
camp in his turn at sontiucl duty.

He enjoyoii the l.eautv of the "evening, and
more than .iijoN , d lii> now li£e-so much so,
indeed, that lie iias ( liautiug in half-sad,
half-merry eademes a once popular ballad,
that he had hearil iu his childhood.

Fighting Pat had about finished one verse,
when the sound of a horse's feet riveted his
attention.

A moment later and the horseman ap-
peared.

The sounds, which, evidently, came from
the direction of the river, grew louder.

As yet, however, the horseman was not in
sight, from the fact that he was still hidden
by a long, dark fringe of pine trees, exteud-
lug on the east side of the camp for some
distance.

" 1 1 must be the officer of the day , " thought
the sentinel. " Well, let him come. I thiuk
he'll find that I know my duty."



They wt



CHAPTER IV.

DEALING WITH AN OLD ENEMY.

came, into the full and brilliant



^ Fighting Pat made two discoveries, almost
simultaneously.

First, that it was not the officer of the day-
second, tliat it was his old enemy, Jerry
Hynes, in the full regimentals of a major of
Meagher's brigade.

The discovery burst upon him Uke a
powerful electric shock, aud he trembled
bef ween emotions of rage and excitement

Here was indeed a dilemma !

What was he to do, or how was he to aot
under the circumstances f

The natural feelings of the man suggested
draggmg the traitor from his hor*B, aad



THE WAR LIBRARY



of the soldier lM-.-|Hik.. . .1 M-lh-ijcf aud respeu.,

CoulG be liniii-t tlic tart that the man who
wasapproiK-liiiij; was the cause of his dear
brother's death, aud the ruiu o£ his family'

Not only this, but the rival of his dearest
affections— whose lying tongue had plaeeil a
barrier between himself aud one deai'rto
him thau life.

The very sight of this man infuriated him,
aud yet he was placed in a position in which
he could not exercise his own free will with-
aut disgracing himself.

What then was he to do?

His last thought was to commit a breach
of military discipline— which he must neces-
sarily be guilty of if he failed to salute the
man.

Therefore, we say he was in as tight a fix
as ever man was placed in yet.

At that moment he most bitterly regretted
that he had ever become a soldier.

With a sigh of dejection and despair, he
stopped short in his walk, and tried to think
■what was best to be done.

"Shall I let him pass as though I had not
recognized him?" was his flrst mental intei^
rogation.

"No, no," was his second thought, "the


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