James Joyce - "Ulysses"

William Shakespeare - "Twelfe Night, Or what you will"

Rudyard Kipling - "Verses 1889 1896"

Raphael Sabatini - "The Shame of Motley"

The Sword of Antietam

J >> Joseph A. Altsheler >> The Sword of Antietam




"You can go now, Lieutenant Mason," said General Thomas, after a few
moments, "and let us together wish for the best."

"Thank you, sir," said Dick, highly flattered again. Then he saluted and
retired.

He rode back somewhat slowly through the cedars, but he kept a wary eye.
The enemy's cavalry was daring, and he might be rushed by them at any
time or be ambushed by sharpshooters on foot. His watch for the enemy
also enabled him to examine the country closely. He saw many hills and
hollows covered mostly with forests, with the red cedar and its dark
green boughs predominating. He also saw the flash of many waters, and,
where the roads cut through the soil, a deep red clay was exposed to
view. He knew that it would be difficult for the armies to get into line
for battle, because of the heavy, sticky nature of the ground, upon which
so much rain had fallen.

He made his way safely back to the camp of his corps, although he saw
hostile cavalry galloping in the valleys in the direction of Stone River,
and all through the afternoon he heard the crackle of rifle shots in the
same direction. The skirmishers were continually in touch and they were
busy.

The corps moved up a little, but Dick thought it likely that there would
be no battle the next day either. Rosecrans could not afford to attack
until his full force, with all its artillery, was up, and marching was
slow and exhausting in the sea of sticky mud.

Dick was right. The Northern army was practically united the next day,
but so great was the exhaustion of the troops that Rosecrans did not deem
it wise yet to attack his foe. He was fully aware of the quality of
the Southern soldiers. He remembered how they had turned suddenly at
Perryville and with inferior numbers had fought a draw. Now on the
defensive, and in such a deep and sticky soil, they would have a great
advantage and his generals agreed with him in waiting.

Dick spent much of this day in riding with Colonel Winchester along
their lines. There was some talk about Bragg retreating, but the boy, a
veteran in everything but years, knew the ominous signs. Bragg had no
notion of retreating.

In the night that followed Colonel Winchester himself and some of his
young officers, accompanied by the brave and skillful Sergeant Whitley,
scouted toward Stone River. In the darkness and with great care, in
order to avoid any sound of splashing, they waded a deep creek and came
out upon a plateau, rolling slightly in character, and with a deep clay
soil, very muddy from the heavy rains. A part of the plateau was cleared
of forest, but here and there were groves, chiefly of the red cedar,
and thickets, some of them so dense that a man would have difficulty in
forcing his way through.

Colonel Winchester and his little group paused at the edge of the creek,
and then dived promptly into a thicket. They saw further up the plateau
many fires and the figures of men walking before them and they saw nearer
by sentinels marching back and forth. They were even able to make out
cannon in batteries, and they knew that it was not worth while to go any
further. The Confederate army was there, and they would merely walk
directly into its arms.

They returned with even greater caution than they had come, but the next
day the whole division crossed the creek at another point, and as it
cautiously felt its way forward it encountered another formidable body
of Southern pickets hidden in the woods. There was sharp firing for a
quarter of an hour, and many of the Ohio men fell, but the pickets were
finally swept back, and at sunset the half circle that Rosecrans had
intended to form for the attack upon the Southern army was complete.

All the movements and delays brought them up to the night before the last
day in the year. The Winchester regiment with the Ohio division lay in
a region of little hills and rocks, covered with forest, with which its
officers and men were not familiar. On the other hand the Southern army
would know every inch of it, and the inhabitants were ready and eager to
give it information.

Dick could not keep from regarding the dark forests with apprehension.
He had seen the Northern generals lose so much through ignorance of the
ground and uncertain movements that he feared for them again. He soon
learned that Rosecrans himself shared this fear. He had come to the
division and recommended its closer concentration.

But the young Ohio troops were not afraid. They said that if they were
attacked they would hold their ground long enough for the rest of the
Northern army to beat the Southern, and McCook himself was confident.

Meanwhile, Bragg, after delaying, had suddenly decided to make the attack
himself, and throughout the day he had been gathering his whole army for
the spring. All his generals, Hardee, Breckinridge, Polk, Cleburne and
the rest were in position and the cavalry was led by Wheeler, a youthful
rough rider, destined to become famous as Fighting Joe Wheeler.

Each general was ready to attack in the morning, but neither knew the
willingness of the other. Yet everybody was aware that a great battle
was soon to come. They had felt it in both armies, and for two or three
days the firing of the skirmishers had been almost continuous. Scouts
kept each side well informed.

Dick, Warner and Pennington, before they lay down in their blankets,
listened to the faint reports of rifles. They could see little owing to
the deep woods in which they lay, but the sound of the shots came clearly.

"A part of our army is to cross the fords of Stone River in the morning
by daylight or before," said Warner, "and we're to surprise the enemy and
rush him. I wonder if we'll do it."

"We will not," said Pennington with emphasis. "We may beat the enemy,
but we will not surprise him. We never do. Why should we surprise him?
He is here in his own country. If the whole Southern army were sound
asleep, a thousand of the natives would wake up their generals and tell
them that the Yankee army was advancing."

"Their sentinels are watching, anyhow," said Dick, "but I imagine that
we'd gain something if the first rush was ours and not theirs."

"We'll hope for the best," said Warner, "I wonder whose time this will
be to get wounded. It was mine at Antietam, yours, Dick, at Perryville,
and only you are left Pennington, so it's bound to be you."

"No, it won't be me," said Pennington stoutly. "I've been wounded in two
or three battles already, not bad wounds, just scratches and bruises,
but as there were so many of 'em you can lump 'em together, and make one
big wound. That lets me out."

The Winchester regiment lay in the very thickest of the forest and in
order not to indicate to the enemy their precise position no fires were
lighted. The earth was still soaked deep with the heavy rains and their
feet sank at every step. But they did not make many steps. They had
learned enough to lie quiet, seek what rest and sleep they could find,
and await the dawn.




CHAPTER XV

STONE RIVER


Dick awoke at sunrise of the last day of the year, and Warner and
Pennington were up a moment later. There was no fog. The sun hung a low,
red ball in the steel blue sky of winter. No fires had been lighted,
cold food being served.

He heard far off to right a steady tattoo like the rapid beat of many
small drums. A quiver ran through the lads who were now gathering in
the wood and at its edge. But Dick knew that the fire was distant. The
other wing had opened the battle, and it might be a long time before
their own division was drawn into the conflict.

He stood there as the sound grew louder, a continuous crash of rifles,
accompanied by the heavy boom of cannon, and far off he saw a great cloud
of smoke gathering over the forest. But no shouting reached his ears,
nor could he see the men in combat. Colonel Winchester, who was standing
beside him, shrugged his shoulders.

"They're engaged heavily, or they will be very soon," he said.

"And it looks as if we'd have to wait," said Dick.

"Things point that way. The general thinks so, too. It seems that Bragg
has moved his forces in the night, and that the portion of the enemy in
front of us is some distance off."

Dick soon confided this news to Warner and Pennington, who looked
discontented.

"If we've got to fight, I'd rather do it now and get it over," said
Pennington. "If I'm going to be killed the difference between morning
and afternoon won't matter, but if I'm not going to be killed it'll be
worth a lot to get this weight off my mind."

"And if we're far away from the enemy it's easy enough for us to go up
close to him," said Warner. "I take it that we're not here to keep out
of his way, and, if our brethren are pounding now, oughtn't we to go in
and help them pound? Remember how we divided our strength at Antietam."

Dick shrugged his shoulders. His feelings were too bitter for him to
make a reply save to say: "I don't know anything about it."

Meanwhile the distant combat roared and deepened. It was obvious that a
great battle was going on, but the division lay quiet obeying its orders.
The sun rose higher in the cold, steely blue heavens and then Dick,
who was watching a forest opposite them, uttered a loud cry. He had seen
many bayonets flashing among the leafless trees.

The cry was taken up by others who saw also, and suddenly a long Southern
line, less than half a mile away, emerged into the open and advanced upon
them in silence, but with resolution, a bristling and terrific front of
steel. After all their watching and waiting the Northern division had
been surprised. Many of the officers and soldiers, too, were in tents
that had been set against the cold and damp. The horses that drew the
artillery were being taken to water.

It was an awful moment and Dick's heart missed more than one beat,
but in that crisis the American, often impatient of discipline, showed
his power of initiative and his resolute courage. While that bristling
front of steel came on the soldiers formed themselves into line without
waiting for the commands of the officers. The artillerymen rushed to
their guns.

"Kneel, men! Kneel!" shouted Colonel Winchester to his own regiment.
He and all his officers were on foot, their horses having been left in
the rear the night before.

His men threw themselves down at his command, and, all along the Northern
line formed so hastily, the rifles began to crackle, sending forth a
sheet of fire and bullets.

The Northern cannon, handled as always with skill and courage, were
at work now, too, and their shells and shot lashed the Southern ranks
through and through. But Dick saw no pause in the advance of the men in
gray. They did not even falter. Without a particle of shelter they came
on through the rain of death, their ranks closing up over the slain,
their front line always presenting that bristling line of steel.

It seemed to Dick now that the points of the bayonets shone almost in
his face, gleaming through the smoke that hung between them and the foe,
a gap that continually grew narrower as the Southern line never ceased to
come.

"Stand firm, lads; steady for God's sake, steady!" shouted Colonel
Winchester, and then Dick heard no single voice, because the roar of the
battle broke over them like the sudden rush of a storm. He was conscious
only that the tips of the bayonets had reached them, and behind them he
saw the eyes in the brown faces gleaming.

Then he did not even see the brown faces, because there was such a storm
of fire and smoke pouring forth bullets like hail, and the tumult of
shouts and of the crash of cannon and rifles was so awful that it blended
into one general sound like the roaring of the infernal regions.

Dick felt himself borne back. It seemed to him that their line had
cracked like a bow bent too much. It was not anything that he saw but a
sense of the general result, and he was right. The Northern line which
had not found time to form properly, was hurled back. Neither cannon nor
rifles could stop the three Southern brigades which were charging them.

The South struck like a tornado, and despite a resistance made with all
the fury and rage of despair, the Northern division was driven from its
position, and its line broken in many places. A Northern general was
taken prisoner. The guns which could not be carried, because the horses
were gone, were taken by the triumphant Southerners, and over all the
roar and tumult of the frightful battle Dick heard that piercing and
triumphant rebel yell, poured forth by thousands of throats and swelling
over everything, in a fierce, dominant note.

Dick bumped against Warner as they were borne back in the smoke. He saw
the Vermonter's blackened lips move, and his own moved in the same way,
but neither heard what the other said. Nevertheless Dick read the words
in his comrade's eyes, and they said:

"Surprised again, Dick! Good God, surprised!"

Yet the young troops fought with a courage worthy of the toughest
veterans. They gave ground, because the rush against them was
overpowering, but they maintained a terrible fire which strewed the earth
in front of them with dead and wounded.

"Behind those trees! Behind those trees!" suddenly called Colonel
Winchester as they continued their sullen and fighting retreat, and he
and the remnants of his regiment darted into a little wood just in time.
There was a sudden rush of hoofbeats on their flank, and a cloud of
Southern cavalry swept down, shearing away the entire side of the
Northern division as if it had been cleft with the slash of a mighty
sword. Besides the fallen a thousand prisoners and seven cannon fell
into the hands of the cavalrymen, who rushed on in search of fresh
triumphs.

Dick shuddered with horror, but he saw that all his own immediate friends
were safe in the wood. A swarm of fugitives poured in after them,
and then came colonels and generals making desperate efforts to reform
their line of battle. But the Southern brigades gave them no chance.
Their leaders continually urged on the pursuit. The broken regiments
fell back still loading and firing, and they would soon be on the banks
of the creek again.

After a time that seemed almost infinite, Dick heard the roar of shells
over their heads. In their retreat the regiments had come upon another
Northern division which opposed a strong resistance to the Southern
advance. Winchester's men welcomed their friends joyfully. But the
fresh troops could not stop the advance. The fire of the Southern cannon
and rifles was so deadly that nearly all the Northern artillerymen were
killed around their guns.

The North again gave ground, seeking point after point for fresh
resistance. They rallied strongly around a building used as a hospital,
and filled it with riflemen. But they were driven from that, too,
although they inflicted terrible losses on their enemy.

"We've got to stop this backward slide somewhere," gasped Pennington.

"Yes, but where?" cried Dick.

Whether Warner made any reply he did not know, because he lost him then
in the flame and the smoke. An instant or two later the charging swarms
of infantry and cavalry drove them into one of the woods of red cedars,
where they lay shattered and gasping. The smoke lifted a little, and
Dick saw the field which he already regarded as lost. Then there was a
renewed burst of firing and cheering, as a regiment of veteran regulars
galloped into the open space and drove off the Southern cavalry which was
just about to seize the ammunition wagons and more cannon.

Encouraged by the charge of the regulars, the men in the cedar wood rose
and began to reform for battle. Now chance, or rather watchfulness,
interposed to save Dick and his comrades from destruction. Rosecrans,
at another point, confident that McCook could hold out against all
attacks, listened with amazement to the roar of battle coming nearer and
nearer. His officers called his attention to the fact that save at the
opening there was no cannon fire. All that approaching crash was made by
rifles. They judged from it that their cannon had been taken, but they
did not know that the rush of the Southern troops had been so fast that
their own batteries were not able to keep up.

Rosecrans read the signs with them and his alarm was great and justified.
Then a dispatch came from McCook telling him that his right wing was
routed and he took an instant resolve.

Many regiments were marching to another point in the line, and the
commander at once changed their course. He meant to save his right wing,
but at the same moment a tremendous attack was begun upon the center of
his army. He struck his horse smartly and galloped straight toward the
rolling flame.

Dick and his friends, driven from the defense around the hospital,
lost touch with the rest of the troops. Colonel Winchester held together
what was left of his regiment, and presently they found themselves in the
woods with the troops of the young officer, Sheridan, who had saved the
battle of Perryville. Here they took their stand, and when Dick saw the
quick and warlike glance of Sheridan that embraced everything he believed
they were not going to retreat.

He heard cheers all around him, men shouting to one another to stand
firm. They refused to take alarm from the fugitives pouring back upon
them, and sent volley after volley into the advancing gray lines.
The artillery, too, handled with splendid skill and daring, poured a
storm along the whole gray front. The combat deepened to an almost
incredible degree. The cannon were compelled to cease firing because the
men were now face to face. Regiments lost half their numbers and more,
but Sheridan still held his ground and the South still attacked.

Dick began to shout with joy. He saw that the indomitable stand of
Sheridan was saving the whole Northern army from rout. The South must
continually turn aside troops to attack Sheridan, and they dared not
advance too far leaving him unbeaten in their rear. Rosecrans in the
center was urging his troops to a great resistance and the battle flamed
high there. It now thundered along the whole front. Nearly every man
and cannon were in action.

Dick was glad that chance had thrown his regiment with Sheridan, when he
saw the splendid resistance made by the young general. Sheridan massed
all his guns at the vital point and backed them up with riflemen.
Nothing broke through his line. Nothing was able to move him.

"He'll have to retreat later on," Colonel Winchester shouted in Dick's
ear, "because our lines are giving way elsewhere, but his courage and
that of his men has saved us from an awful defeat."

The battle in front of Sheridan increased in violence. The Confederates
were continually pouring fresh troops upon him, and it became apparent
that even he, with all his courage and quickness of eye at the vital
moment, could not withstand all day long the fierce attacks that were
being made upon him. The Southern fire from cannon and rifles grew more
terrible. Sheridan had three brigades and the commanders of all three of
them were killed. The Confederate attack had been repulsed three times,
but it was coming again, stronger and fiercer than ever.

Dick, aghast, gazed at Colonel Winchester and somehow through the thunder
of the battle he heard the colonel's reply:

"Yes, we'll have to give up this position, but we have saved so much time
that the army itself is saved. Rosecrans is forming a new line behind
us."

Rosecrans, no genius, but a brave and resolute fighter, had indeed
brought up fresh troops and made a new line. Sheridan, having that
greatest of all gifts of the general, the eye to see amid the terrible
tumult of battle the time to do a thing, and the courage to do it then,
sounded the trumpet. Nearly all his wagons had been captured by the
Southern cavalry, and his ammunition was beginning to fail. Around him
lay two thousand of his best men, dead or wounded. Rosecrans and the
fresh troops were appearing just in time.

Yet the retreat of Sheridan was made with the greatest difficulty.
A part of his troops were cut off and captured. Others drove back
the Confederate flankers with a bayonet charge, and then the remnant
retreated, the new lines opening to let them through. Dick, as he passed
through the gap, saw that he was among countrymen. That is, a Kentucky
regiment, fighting for the Union was standing as a shield to let his
comrades and himself through, and the people of the state were related
so closely that in the flare of the battle he saw among these new men at
least a half dozen faces that he knew.

It was this Kentucky regiment, led by its colonel, Shepherd, that now
formed itself in the very apex of the battle. The remains of the
Winchester regiment, forming behind it, saw a terrible sight. Some of
the regiments crushed earlier in the action had entirely disbanded.
The woods and the bushes were filled with fugitives, soldiers seeking the
rear. Vast clouds of smoke drifted everywhere, the air was filled with
the odors of exploded gunpowder, cannon were piled in inextricable heaps
in the road, and horses, killed by shells or bullets, lay on the guns or
between the wheels.

Dick had never beheld a more terrible sight. Their army was defeated so
far, the dead and the wounded were heaped everywhere, terrified fugitives
were pouring to the rear, and the enemy, wild with triumph, and shouting
his terrible battle yell, was coming on with an onset that seemed
invincible.

Colonel Winchester darted among the fugitives and with stinging words and
the flat of his sword beat many of them back into line. Dick, Warner,
Pennington and other young officers did likewise. More Kentucky troops
bringing artillery came up and joined those who were standing so sternly.
It became obvious to all that they must hold the ground here or the
battle indeed was lost once and for all.

Thomas, the silent and resolute Virginian, had arrived also, and had
joined Rosecrans. Dick observed them both. Rosecrans, tremendously
excited, and reckless of death from the flying shells and bullets,
galloped from point to point, urging on his soldiers, telling them to die
rather than yield. Thomas, cool, and showing no trace of excitement also
directed the troops. Both by their courage and resolution inspired the
men. The beaten became the unbeaten. Dick felt rather than saw the
stiffening of the lines, and the return of a great courage.

The new line of battle was formed directly under the fire of a victorious
and charging enemy. Three batteries were gathered on a height
overlooking a railroad cut, where they could sweep the front of the foe.

Just as they were in battle order Dick saw the faces of the Southerners
coming through the woods, led by Hardee in person. Then he saw, too,
the value of presence of mind and of a courage that would not yield.
The three batteries planted by the Kentuckian, Rousseau, on the railway
embankment suddenly opened a terrible enfilading fire upon the Southern
advance. The Kentucky regiment standing so firmly in the breach also
opened with every rifle firing directly into the ranks of their brother
Kentuckians, who were advancing in the vanguard of the South. Here again
people of the same state and even of the same county fought one another.

The Confederates pursuing a defeated and apparently disorganized enemy
were astounded by such a sudden and fierce fire. One of their generals
was killed almost instantly, and a part of their line was hurled back
with great violence. Thomas pushed forward with a portion of the troops,
and after a desperate assault the Southern line reeled and then stopped
in the wood. Courage and presence of mind had saved a battle for the
time being, at least.

At that point the combat sank for a while, and Dick, unwounded but
exhausted, dropped upon the ground. Around him lay his friends, and they,
too, were unwounded. It was with a sort of grim humor that he remembered
a conversation they had held before the battle.

"Well, Frank," he said, "you've escaped."

"So far only," said Warner. "The hurricane has softened down a lot here,
but not everywhere else. Listen!"

He pointed through the woods toward the left where another battle was
swelling with a mighty uproar. Bragg having driven in the Union right
was now seeking to shatter the Union left, but at this point there was
a Northern commander, Hazen, who was no less indomitable than Sheridan.
Sheltering themselves along the railway embankment his men, always
encouraged by their commander, and his officers, resisted every effort to
drive them back. Noon came and found them still holding tenaciously to
their positions. For a while now the whole battle sank through sheer
exhaustion on both sides. Each commander reformed his line, disentangled
his guns, brought forward fresh ammunition and prepared for the great
combat which he knew was coming. Bragg, as he noticed the advance of the
short winter day, resolved upon the utmost effort to crush his enemy.
Victory had seemed wholly in his grasp in the morning, but he had been
checked at the last moment. He would make good the defeat in the
afternoon.

Copyright (c) 2007. topbookz.net. All rights reserved.