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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sword of Antietam, by Joseph A. Altsheler
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sword of Antietam
+
+Author: Joseph A. Altsheler
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7862]
+Posting Date: July 23, 2009
+Last Updated: March 10, 2018
+
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Ken Reeder
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM
+
+A STORY OF THE NATION'S CRISIS
+
+By Joseph A. Altsheler
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+“The Sword of Antietam” tells a complete story, but it is one in
+the chain of Civil War romances, begun in “The Guns of Bull Run” and
+continued through “The Guns of Shiloh” and “The Scouts of Stonewall.”
+ The young Northern hero, Dick Mason, and his friends are in the
+forefront of the tale.
+
+
+THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
+
+
+ VOLUMES IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
+
+  THE GUNS OF BULL RUN.
+  THE GUNS OF SHILOH.
+  THE SCOUTS OF STONEWALL.
+  THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM.
+  THE STAR OF GETTYSBURG.
+  THE ROCK OF CHICKAMAUGA.
+  THE SHADES OF THE WILDERNESS.
+  THE TREE OF APPOMATTOX.
+
+
+ PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
+
+  HARRY KENTON, A Lad Who Fights on the Southern Side.
+  DICK MASON, Cousin of Harry Kenton, Who Fights on the Northern Side.
+  COLONEL GEORGE KENTON, Father of Harry Kenton.
+  MRS. MASON, Mother of Dick Mason.
+  JULIANA, Mrs. Mason's Devoted Colored Servant.
+  COLONEL ARTHUR WINCHESTER, Dick Mason's Regimental Commander.
+  COLONEL LEONIDAS TALBOT, Commander of the Invincibles,
+   a Southern Regiment.
+  LIEUTENANT COLONEL HECTOR ST. HILAIRE, Second in Command of the
+   Invincibles.
+  ALAN HERTFORD, A Northern Cavalry Leader.
+  PHILIP SHERBURNE, A Southern Cavalry Leader.
+  WILLIAM J. SHEPARD, A Northern Spy.
+  DANIEL WHITLEY, A Northern Sergeant and Veteran of the Plains.
+  GEORGE WARNER, A Vermont Youth Who Loves Mathematics.
+  FRANK PENNINGTON, A Nebraska Youth, Friend of Dick Mason.
+  ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, A Native of Charleston, Friend of Harry Kenton.
+  TOM LANGDON, Friend of Harry Kenton.
+  GEORGE DALTON, Friend of Harry Kenton.
+  BILL SKELLY, Mountaineer and Guerrilla.
+  TOM SLADE, A Guerrilla Chief.
+  SAM JARVIS, The Singing Mountaineer.
+  IKE SIMMONS, Jarvis' Nephew.
+  AUNT “SUSE,” A Centenarian and Prophetess.
+  BILL PETTY, A Mountaineer and Guide.
+  JULIEN DE LANGEAIS, A Musician and Soldier from Louisiana.
+  JOHN CARRINGTON, Famous Northern Artillery Officer.
+  DR. RUSSELL, Principal of the Pendleton School.
+  ARTHUR TRAVERS, A Lawyer.
+  JAMES BERTRAND, A Messenger from the South.
+  JOHN NEWCOMB, A Pennsylvania Colonel.
+  JOHN MARKHAM, A Northern Officer.
+  JOHN WATSON, A Northern Contractor.
+  WILLIAM CURTIS, A Southern Merchant and Blockade Runner.
+  MRS. CURTIS, Wife of William Curtis.
+  HENRIETTA CARDEN, A Seamstress in Richmond.
+  DICK JONES, A North Carolina Mountaineer.
+  VICTOR WOODVILLE, A Young Mississippi Officer.
+  JOHN WOODVILLE, Father of Victor Woodville.
+  CHARLES WOODVILLE, Uncle of Victor Woodville.
+  COLONEL BEDFORD, A Northern Officer.
+  CHARLES GORDON, A Southern Staff Officer.
+  JOHN LANHAM, An Editor.
+  JUDGE KENDRICK, A Lawyer.
+  MR. CULVER, A State Senator.
+  MR. BRACKEN, A Tobacco Grower.
+  ARTHUR WHITRIDGE, A State Senator.
+
+
+ HISTORICAL CHARACTERS
+
+  ABRAHAM LINCOLN, President of the United States.
+  JEFFERSON DAVIS, President of the Southern Confederacy.
+  JUDAH P. BENJAMIN, Member of the Confederate Cabinet.
+  U. S. GRANT, Northern Commander.
+  ROBERT E. LEE, Southern Commander.
+  STONEWALL JACKSON, Southern General.
+  PHILIP H. SHERIDAN, Northern General.
+  GEORGE H. THOMAS, “The Rock of Chickamauga.”
+   ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON, Southern General.
+  A. P. HILL, Southern General.
+  W. S. HANCOCK, Northern General.
+  GEORGE B. McCLELLAN, Northern General.
+  AMBROSE E. BURNSIDE, Northern General.
+  TURNER ASHBY, Southern Cavalry Leader.
+  J. E. B. STUART, Southern Cavalry Leader.
+  JOSEPH HOOKER, Northern General.
+  RICHARD S. EWELL, Southern General.
+  JUBAL EARLY, Southern General.
+  WILLIAM S. ROSECRANS, Northern General.
+  SIMON BOLIVAR BUCKNER, Southern General.
+  LEONIDAS POLK, Southern General and Bishop.
+  BRAXTON BRAGG, Southern General.
+  NATHAN BEDFORD FORREST, Southern Cavalry Leader.
+  JOHN MORGAN, Southern Cavalry Leader.
+  GEORGE J. MEADE, Northern General.
+  DON CARLOS BUELL, Northern General.
+  W. T. SHERMAN, Northern General.
+  JAMES LONGSTREET, Southern General.
+  P. G. T. BEAUREGARD, Southern General.
+  WILLIAM L. YANCEY, Alabama Orator.
+  JAMES A. GARFIELD, Northern General, afterwards President of
+   the United States.
+
+  And many others
+
+
+ IMPORTANT BATTLES DESCRIBED IN THE CIVIL WAR SERIES
+
+  BULL RUN
+  KERNSTOWN
+  CROSS KEYS
+  WINCHESTER
+  PORT REPUBLIC
+  THE SEVEN DAYS
+  MILL SPRING
+  FORT DONELSON
+  SHILOH
+  PERRYVILLE
+  STONE RIVER
+  THE SECOND MANASSAS
+  ANTIETAM
+  FREDERICKSBURG
+  CHANCELLORSVILLE
+  GETTYSBURG
+  CHAMPION HILL
+  VICKSBURG
+  CHICKAMAUGA
+  MISSIONARY RIDGE
+  THE WILDERNESS
+  SPOTTSYLVANIA
+  COLD HARBOR
+  FISHER'S HILL
+  CEDAR CREEK
+  APPOMATTOX
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+    I.  CEDAR MOUNTAIN
+
+   II.  AT THE CAPITAL
+
+  III.  BESIDE THE RIVER
+
+   IV.  SPRINGING THE TRAP
+
+    V.  THE SECOND MANASSAS
+
+   VI.  THE MOURNFUL FOREST
+
+  VII.  ORDERS NO. 191
+
+ VIII.  THE DUEL IN THE PASS
+
+   IX.  ACROSS THE STREAM
+
+    X.  ANTIETAM
+
+   XI.  A FAMILY AFFAIR
+
+  XII.  THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS
+
+ XIII.  PERRYVILLE
+
+  XIV.  SEEKING BRAGG
+
+   XV.  STONE RIVER
+
+
+
+
+THE SWORD OF ANTIETAM
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. CEDAR MOUNTAIN
+
+
+The first youth rode to the crest of the hill, and, still sitting on his
+horse, examined the country in the south with minute care through a pair
+of powerful glasses. The other two dismounted and waited patiently. All
+three were thin and their faces were darkened by sun and wind. But they
+were strong alike of body and soul. Beneath the faded blue uniforms
+brave hearts beat and powerful muscles responded at once to every
+command of the will.
+
+“What do you see, Dick?” asked Warner, who leaned easily against his
+horse, with one arm over the pommel of his saddle.
+
+“Hills, valleys, mountains, the August heat shimmering over all, but no
+human being.”
+
+“A fine country,” said young Pennington, “and I like to look at it, but
+just now my Nebraska prairie would be better for us. We could at least
+see the advance of Stonewall Jackson before he was right on top of us.”
+
+Dick took another long look, searching every point in the half circle
+of the south with his glasses. Although burned by summer the country
+was beautiful, and neither heat nor cold could take away its
+picturesqueness. He saw valleys in which the grass grew thick and
+strong, clusters of hills dotted with trees, and then the blue loom of
+mountains clothed heavily with foliage. Over everything bent a dazzling
+sky of blue and gold.
+
+The light was so intense that with his glasses he could pick out
+individual trees and rocks on the far slopes. He saw an occasional roof,
+but nowhere did he see man. He knew the reason, but he had become so
+used to his trade that at the moment, he felt no sadness. All this
+region had been swept by great armies. Here the tide of battle in
+the mightiest of all wars had rolled back and forth, and here it was
+destined to surge again in a volume increasing always.
+
+“I don't find anything,” repeated Dick, “but three pairs of eyes are
+better than none. George, you take the glasses and see what you can see
+and Frank will follow.”
+
+He dismounted and stood holding the reins of his horse while the young
+Vermonter looked. He noticed that the mathematical turn of Warner's
+mind showed in every emergency. He swept the glasses back and forth in
+a regular curve, not looking here and now there, but taking his time and
+missing nothing. It occurred to Dick that he was a type of his region,
+slow but thorough, and sure to win after defeat.
+
+“What's the result of your examination?” asked Dick as Warner passed the
+glasses in turn to Pennington.
+
+“Let x equal what I saw, which is nothing. Let y equal the result I
+draw, which is nothing. Hence we have x + y which still equals nothing.”
+
+Pennington was swifter in his examination. The blood in his veins flowed
+a little faster than Warner's.
+
+“I find nothing but land and water,” he said without waiting to be
+asked, “and I'm disappointed. I had a hope, Dick, that I'd see Stonewall
+Jackson himself riding along a slope.”
+
+“Even if you saw him, how would you know it was Stonewall?”
+
+“I hadn't thought of that. We've heard so much of him that it just
+seemed to me I'd know him anywhere.”
+
+“Same here,” said Warner. “Remember all the tales we've heard about his
+whiskers, his old slouch hat and his sorrel horse.”
+
+“I'd like to see him myself,” confessed Dick. “From all we hear he's
+the man who kept McClellan from taking Richmond. He certainly played
+hob with the plans of our generals. You know, I've got a cousin, Harry
+Kenton, with him. I had a letter from him a week ago--passing through
+the lines, and coming in a round-about way. Writes as if he thought
+Stonewall Jackson was a demigod. Says we'd better quit and go home, as
+we haven't any earthly chance to win this war.”
+
+“He fights best who wins last,” said Warner. “I'm thinking I won't see
+the green hills of Vermont for a long time yet, because I mean to pay
+a visit to Richmond first. Have you got your cousin's letter with you,
+Dick?”
+
+“No, I destroyed it. I didn't want it bobbing up some time or other to
+cause either of us trouble. A man I know at home says he's kept out of a
+lot of trouble by 'never writin' nothin' to nobody.' And if you do write
+a letter the next best thing is to burn it as quick as you can.”
+
+“If my eyes tell the truth, and they do,” said Pennington, “here comes
+a short, thick man riding a long, thick horse and he--the man, not the
+horse--bears a startling resemblance to our friend, ally, guide and
+sometime mentor, Sergeant Daniel Whitley.”
+
+“Yes, it's the sergeant,” said Dick, looking down into the valley, “and
+I'm glad he's joining us. Do you know, boys, I often think these veteran
+sergeants know more than some of our generals.”
+
+“It's not an opinion. It's a fact,” said Warner. “Hi, there, sergeant!
+Here are your friends! Come up and make the same empty report that we've
+got ready for the colonel.”
+
+Sergeant Daniel Whitley looked at the three lads, and his face
+brightened. He had a good intellect under his thatch of hair, and a warm
+heart within his strong body. The boys, although lieutenants, and he
+only a sergeant in the ranks, treated him usually as an equal and often
+as a superior.
+
+Colonel Winchester's regiment and the remains of Colonel Newcomb's
+Pennsylvanians had been sent east after the defeat of the Union army at
+the Seven Days, and were now with Pope's Army of Virginia, which was to
+hold the valley and also protect Washington. Grant's success at
+Shiloh had been offset by McClellan's failure before Richmond, and the
+President and his Cabinet at Washington were filled with justifiable
+alarm. Pope was a western man, a Kentuckian, and he had insisted upon
+having some of the western troops with him.
+
+The sergeant rode his horse slowly up the slope, and joined the lads
+over whom he watched like a father.
+
+“And what have the hundred eyes of Argus beheld?” asked Warner.
+
+“Argus?” said the sergeant. “I don't know any such man. Name sounds
+queer, too.”
+
+“He belongs to a distant and mythical past, sergeant, but he'd be mighty
+useful if we had him here. If even a single one of his hundred eyes were
+to light on Stonewall Jackson, it would be a great service.”
+
+The sergeant shook his head and looked reprovingly at Warner.
+
+“It ain't no time for jokin',” he said.
+
+“I was never further from it. It seems to me that we need a lot of
+Arguses more than anything else. This is the enemy's country, and we
+hear that Stonewall Jackson is advancing. Advancing where, from what and
+when? There is no Argus to tell. The country supports a fairly numerous
+population, but it hasn't a single kind or informing word for us. Is
+Stonewall Jackson going to drop from the sky, which rumor says is his
+favorite method of approach?”
+
+“He's usin' the solid ground this time, anyway,” said Sergeant Daniel
+Whitley. “I've been eight miles farther south, an' if I didn't see
+cavalry comin' along the skirt of a ridge, then my eyes ain't any
+friends of mine. Then I came through a little place of not more'n five
+houses. No men there, just women an' children, but when I looked back I
+saw them women an' children, too, grinnin' at me. That means somethin',
+as shore as we're livin' an' breathin'. I'm bettin' that we new fellows
+from the west will get acquainted with Stonewall Jackson inside of
+twenty-four hours.”
+
+“You don't mean that? It's not possible!” exclaimed Dick, startled.
+“Why, when we last heard of Jackson he was so far south we can't expect
+him in a week!”
+
+“You've heard that they call his men the foot cavalry,” said the
+sergeant gravely, “an' I reckon from all I've learned since I come east
+that they've won the name fair an' true. See them woods off to the south
+there. See the black line they make ag'inst the sky. I know, the same
+as if I had seen him, that Stonewall Jackson is down in them forests,
+comin' an' comin' fast.”
+
+The sergeant's tone was ominous, and Dick felt a tingling at the roots
+of his hair. The western troops were eager to meet this new Southern
+phenomenon who had suddenly shot like a burning star across the sky, but
+for the first time there was apprehension in his soul. He had seen but
+little of the new general, Pope, but he had read his proclamations and
+he had thought them bombastic. He talked lightly of the enemy and of the
+grand deeds that he was going to do. Who was Pope to sweep away such men
+as Lee and Jackson with mere words!
+
+Dick longed for Grant, the stern, unyielding, unbeatable Grant whom he
+had known at Shiloh. In the west the Union troops had felt the strong
+hand over them, and confidence had flowed into them, but here they were
+in doubt. They felt that the powerful and directing mind was absent.
+
+Silence fell upon them all for a little space, while the four gazed
+intently into the south, strange fears assailing everyone. Dick never
+doubted that the Union would win. He never doubted it then and he never
+doubted it afterward, through all the vast hecatomb when the flag of the
+Union fell more than once in terrible defeat.
+
+But their ignorance was mystifying and oppressive. They saw before them
+the beautiful country, the hills and valleys, the forest and the blue
+loom of the mountains, so much that appealed to the eye, and yet the
+horizon, looking so peaceful in the distance, was barbed with spears.
+Jackson was there! The sergeant's theory had become conviction with
+them. Distance had been nothing to him. He was at hand with a great
+force, and Lee with another army might fall at any time upon their
+flank, while McClellan was isolated and left useless, far away.
+
+Dick's heart missed a beat or two, as he saw the sinister picture that
+he had created in his own mind. Highly imaginative, he had leaped to the
+conclusion that Lee and Jackson meant to trap the Union army, the hammer
+beating it out on the anvil. He raised the glasses to his eyes, surveyed
+the forests in the South once more, and then his heart missed another
+beat.
+
+He had caught the flash of steel, the sun's rays falling across a
+bayonet or a polished rifle barrel. And then as he looked he saw the
+flash again and again. He handed the glasses to Warner and said quietly:
+
+“George, I see troops on the edge of that far hill to the south and the
+east. Can't you see them, too?”
+
+“Yes, I can make them out clearly now, as they pass across a bit of open
+land. They're Confederate cavalry, two hundred at least, I should say.”
+
+Dick learned long afterward that it was the troop of Sherburne, but, for
+the present, the name of Sherburne was unknown to him. He merely felt
+that this was the vanguard of Jackson riding forward to set the trap.
+The men were now so near that they could be seen with the naked eye, and
+the sergeant said tersely:
+
+“At last we've seen what we were afraid we would see.”
+
+“And look to the left also,” said Warner, who still held the glasses.
+“There's a troop of horse coming up another road, too. By George,
+they're advancing at a trot! We'd better clear out or we may be enclosed
+between the two horns of their cavalry.”
+
+“We'll go back to our force at Cedar Run,” said Harry, “and report what
+we've seen. As you say, George, there's no time to waste.”
+
+The four mounted and rode fast, the dust of the road flying in a cloud
+behind their horses' heels. Dick felt that they had fulfilled their
+errand, but he had his doubts how their news would be received. The
+Northern generals in the east did not seem to him to equal those of the
+west in keenness and resolution, while the case was reversed so far as
+the Southern generals were concerned.
+
+But fast as they went the Southern cavalry was coming with equal speed.
+They continually saw the flash of arms in both east and west. The force
+in the west was the nearer of the two. Not only was Sherburne there, but
+Harry Kenton was with him, and besides their own natural zeal they had
+all the eagerness and daring infused into them by the great spirit and
+brilliant successes of Jackson.
+
+“They won't be able to enclose us between the two horns of their
+horsemen,” said Sergeant Whitley, whose face was very grave, “and the
+battle won't be to-morrow or the next day.”
+
+“Why not? I thought Jackson was swift,” said Warner.
+
+“Cause it will be fought to-day. I thought Jackson was swift, too, but
+he's swifter than I thought. Them feet cavalry of his don't have to
+change their name. Look into the road comin' up that narrow valley.”
+
+The eyes of the three boys followed his pointing finger, and they now
+saw masses of infantry, men in gray pressing forward at full speed. They
+saw also batteries of cannon, and Dick almost fancied he could hear the
+rumble of their wheels.
+
+“Looks as if the sergeant was right,” said Pennington. “Stonewall
+Jackson is here.”
+
+They increased their speed to a gallop, making directly for Cedar Run, a
+cold, clear little stream coming out of the hills. It was now about the
+middle of the morning and the day was burning hot and breathless.
+Their hearts began to pound with excitement, and their breath was drawn
+painfully through throats lined with dust.
+
+A long ridge covered with forest rose on one side of them and now they
+saw the flash of many bayonets and rifle barrels along its lowest slope.
+Another heavy column of infantry was advancing, and presently they heard
+the far note of trumpets calling to one another.
+
+“Their whole army is in touch,” said the sergeant. “The trumpets show
+it. Often on the plains, when we had to divide our little force into
+detachments, they'd have bugle talk with one another. We must go faster
+if we can.”
+
+They got another ounce of strength out of their horses, and now they
+saw Union cavalry in front. In a minute or two they were among the blue
+horsemen, giving the hasty news of Jackson's advance. Other scouts and
+staff officers arrived a little later with like messages, and not long
+afterward they heard shots behind them telling them that the hostile
+pickets were in touch.
+
+They watered their horses in Cedar Run, crossed it and rejoined their
+own regiment under Colonel Arthur Winchester. The colonel was thin,
+bronzed and strong, and he, too, like the other new men from the West,
+was eager for battle with the redoubtable Jackson.
+
+“What have you seen, Dick?” he exclaimed. “Is it a mere scouting force
+of cavalry, or is Jackson really at hand?”
+
+“I think it's Jackson himself. We saw heavy columns coming up. They were
+pressing forward, too, as if they meant to brush aside whatever got in
+their way.”
+
+“Then we'll show them!” exclaimed Colonel Winchester. “We've only seven
+thousand men here on Cedar Run, but Banks, who is in immediate command,
+has been stung deeply by his defeats at the hands of Jackson, and he
+means a fight to the last ditch. So does everybody else.”
+
+Dick, at that moment, the thrill of the gallop gone, was not so
+sanguine. The great weight of Jackson's name hung over him like a
+sinister menace, and the Union troops on Cedar Run were but seven
+thousand. The famous Confederate leader must have at least three times
+that number. Were the Union forces, separated into several armies, to
+be beaten again in detail? Pope himself should be present with at least
+fifty thousand men.
+
+Their horses had been given to an orderly and Dick threw himself upon
+the turf to rest a little. All along the creek the Union army, including
+his own regiment, was forming in line of battle but his colonel had
+not yet called upon him for any duty. Warner and Pennington were also
+resting from their long and exciting ride, but the sergeant, who seemed
+never to know fatigue, was already at work with his men.
+
+“Listen to those skirmishers,” said Dick. “It sounds like the popping of
+corn at home on winter evenings, when I was a little boy.”
+
+“But a lot more deadly,” said Pennington. “I wouldn't like to be a
+skirmisher. I don't mind firing into the smoke and the crowd, but I'd
+hate to sit down behind a stump or in the grass and pick out the spot on
+a man that I meant for my bullet to hit.”
+
+“You won't have to do any such work, Frank,” said Warner. “Hark to it!
+The sergeant was right. We're going to have a battle to-day and a big
+one. The popping of your corn, Dick, has become an unbroken sound.”
+
+Dick, from the crest of the hillock on which they lay, gazed over
+the heads of the men in blue. The skirmishers were showing a hideous
+activity. A continuous line of light ran along the front of both armies,
+and behind the flash of the Southern firing he saw heavy masses of
+infantry emerging from the woods. A deep thrill ran through him.
+Jackson, the famous, the redoubtable, the unbeatable, was at hand with
+his army. Would he remain unbeaten? Dick said to himself, in unspoken
+words, over and over again, “No! No! No! No!” He and his comrades had
+been victors in the west. They must not fail here.
+
+Colonel Winchester now called to them, and mounting their horses they
+gathered around him to await his orders. These officers, though mere
+boys, learned fast. Dick knew enough already of war to see that they
+were in a strong position. Before them flowed the creek. On their flank
+and partly in their front was a great field of Indian corn. A quarter
+of a mile away was a lofty ridge on which were posted Union guns with
+gunners who knew so well how to use them. To right and left ran the long
+files of infantry, their faces white but resolute.
+
+“I think,” said Dick to Warner, “that if Jackson passes over this place
+he will at least know that we've been here.”
+
+“Yes, he'll know it, and besides he'll make quite a halt before passing.
+At least, that's my way of thinking.”
+
+There was a sudden dying of the rifle fire. The Union skirmishers
+were driven in, and they fell back on the main body which was silent,
+awaiting the attack. Dick was no longer compelled to use the glasses.
+He saw with unaided eye the great Southern columns marching forward with
+the utmost confidence, heavy batteries advancing between the regiments,
+ready at command to sweep the Northern ranks with shot and shell.
+
+Dick shivered a little. He could not help it. They were face to face
+with Jackson, and he was all that the heralds of fame had promised.
+He had eye enough to see that the Southern force was much greater than
+their own, and, led by such a man, how could they fail to win another
+triumph? He looked around upon the army in blue, but he did not see
+any sign of fear. Both the beaten and the unbeaten were ready for a new
+battle.
+
+There was a mighty crash from the hill and the Northern batteries poured
+a stream of metal into the advancing ranks of their foe.
+
+The Confederate advance staggered, but, recovering itself, came on
+again. A tremendous cheer burst from the ranks of the lads in blue.
+Stonewall Jackson with all his skill and fame was before them, but they
+meant to stop him. Numbers were against them, and Banks, their leader,
+had been defeated already by Jackson, but they meant to stop him,
+nevertheless.
+
+The Southern guns replied. Posted along the slopes of Slaughter
+Mountain, sinister of name, they sent a sheet of death upon the Union
+ranks. But the regiments, the new and the old, stood firm. Those that
+had been beaten before by Jackson were resolved not to be beaten again
+by him, and the new regiments from the west, one or two of which had
+been at Shiloh, were resolved never to be beaten at all.
+
+“The lads are steady,” said Colonel Winchester. “It's a fine sign. I've
+news, too, that two thousand men have come up. We shall now have nine
+thousand with which to withstand the attack, and I don't believe they
+can drive us away. Oh, why isn't Pope himself here with his whole army?
+Then we could wipe Jackson off the face of the earth!”
+
+But Pope was not there. The commander of a huge force, the man of
+boastful words who was to do such great things, the man who sent such
+grandiloquent dispatches from “Headquarters in the Saddle,” to the
+anxious Lincoln at Washington, had strung his numerous forces along in
+detachments, just as the others had done before him, and the booming
+of Jackson's cannon attacking the Northern vanguard with his whole army
+could not reach ears so far away.
+
+The fire now became heavy along the whole Union front. All the batteries
+on both sides were coming into action, and the earth trembled with the
+rolling crash. The smoke rose and hung in clouds over the hills, the
+valley and the cornfield. The hot air, surcharged with dust, smoke and
+burned gunpowder, was painful and rasping to the throat. The frightful
+screaming of the shells filled the air, and then came the hissing of the
+bullets like a storm of sleet.
+
+Colonel Winchester and his staff dismounted, giving their horses to an
+orderly who led them to the rear. Horses would not be needed for the
+present, at least, and they had learned to avoid needless risk.
+
+The attack was coming closer, and the bullets as they swept through
+their ranks found many victims. Colonel Winchester ordered his regiment
+to kneel and open fire, being held hitherto in reserve. Dick snatched up
+a rifle from a soldier who had fallen almost beside him, and he saw that
+Warner and Pennington had equipped themselves in like fashion.
+
+A strong gust of wind lifted the smoke before them a little. Dick saw
+many splashes of water on the surface of the creek where bullets struck,
+and there were many tiny spurts of dust in the road, where other bullets
+fell. Then he saw beyond the dark masses of the Southern infantry. It
+seemed to him that they were strangely close. He believed that he could
+see their tanned faces, one by one, and their vengeful eyes, but it was
+only fancy.
+
+The next instant the signal was given, and the regiment fired as one.
+There was a long flash of fire, a tremendous roaring in Dick's ears,
+then for an instant or two a vast cloud of smoke hid the advancing gray
+mass. When it was lifted a moment later the men in gray were advancing
+no longer. Their ranks were shattered and broken, the ground was covered
+with the fallen and the others were reeling back.
+
+“We win! We win!” shouted Pennington, wild with enthusiasm.
+
+“For the present, at least,” said Warner, a deep flush blazing in either
+cheek.
+
+There was no return fire just then from that point, and the smoke lifted
+a little more. Above the crash of the battle which raged fiercely on
+either flank, they heard the notes of a trumpet rising, loud, clear, and
+distinct from all other sounds. Dick knew that it was a rallying call,
+and then he heard Pennington utter a wild shout.
+
+“I see him! I see him!” he cried. “It's old Stonewall himself! There on
+the hillock, on the little horse!”
+
+The vision was but for an instant. Dick gazed with all his eyes, and he
+saw several hundred yards away a thickset man on a sorrel horse. He was
+bearded and he stooped a little, seeming to bend an intense gaze upon
+the Northern lines.
+
+There was no time for anyone to fire, because in a few seconds the
+smoke came back, a huge, impenetrable curtain, and hid the man and the
+hillock. But Dick had not the slightest doubt that it was the great
+Southern leader, and he was right. It was Stonewall Jackson on the
+hillock, rallying his men, and Dick's own cousin, Harry Kenton, rode by
+his side.
+
+They reloaded, but a staff officer galloped up and delivered a written
+order to Colonel Winchester. The whole regiment left the line, another
+less seasoned taking its place, and they marched off to one flank, where
+a field of wheat lately cut, and a wood on the extreme end, lay before
+them. Behind them they heard the battle swelling anew, but Dick knew
+that a new force of the foe was coming here, and he felt proud that his
+own regiment had been moved to meet an attack which would certainly be
+made with the greatest violence.
+
+“Who are those men down in the wheat-field?” asked Pennington.
+
+“Our own skirmishers,” replied Warner. “See them running forward, hiding
+behind the shocks of straw and firing!”
+
+The riflemen were busy. They fired from the shelter of every straw stack
+in the field, and they stung the new Southern advance, which was already
+showing its front. Southern guns now began to search the wheat field.
+A shell struck squarely in the center of one of the shocks behind which
+three Northern skirmishers were kneeling. Dick saw the straw fly into
+the air as if picked up by a whirlwind. When it settled back it lay
+in scattered masses and three dark figures lay with it, motionless and
+silent. He shuddered and looked away.
+
+The edge of the wood was now lined with Southern infantry, and on their
+right flank was a numerous body of cavalry. Officers were waving their
+swords aloft, leading the men in person to the charge.
+
+“The attack will be heavy here,” said Colonel Winchester. “Ah, there are
+our guns firing over our heads. We need 'em.”
+
+The Southern cannon were more numerous, but the Northern guns, posted
+well on the hill, refused to be silenced. Some of them were dismounted
+and the gunners about them were killed, but the others, served with
+speed and valor, sprayed the whole Southern front with a deadly shower
+of steel.
+
+It was this welcome metal that Dick and his comrades heard over their
+heads, and then the trumpets rang a shrill note of defiance along the
+whole line. Banks, remembering his bitter defeats and resolved upon
+victory now, was not awaiting the attack. He would make it himself.
+
+The whole wing lifted itself up and rushed through the wheat field,
+firing as they charged. The cannon were pushed forward and poured in
+volleys as fast as the gunners could load and discharge them. Dick
+felt the ground reeling beneath his feet, but he knew that they were
+advancing and that the enemy was giving way again. Stonewall Jackson and
+his generals felt a certain hardening of the Northern resistance that
+day. The recruits in blue were becoming trained now. They did not break
+in a panic, although their lines were raked through and through by the
+Southern shells. New men stepped in the place of the fallen, and the
+lines, filled up, came on again.
+
+The Northern wing charging through the wheat field continued to bear
+back the enemy. Jackson was not yet able to stop the fierce masses in
+blue. A formidable body of men issuing from the Northern side of the
+wood charged with the bayonet, pushing the charge home with a courage
+and a recklessness of death that the war had not yet seen surpassed. The
+Southern rifles and cannon raked them, but they never stopped, bursting
+like a tornado upon their foe.
+
+One of Jackson's Virginia regiments gave way and then another. The men
+in blue from the wood and Colonel Winchester's regiment joined, their
+shouts rising above the smoke while they steadily pushed the enemy
+before them.
+
+Dick as he shouted with the rest felt a wild exultation. They were
+showing Jackson what they could do! They were proving to him that he
+could not win always. His joy was warranted. No such confusion had ever
+before existed in Jackson's army. The Northern charge was driven like a
+wedge of steel into its ranks.
+
+Jackson had able generals, valiant lieutenants, with him, Ewell and
+Early, and A. P. Hill and Winder, and they strove together to stop
+the retreat. The valiant Winder was mortally wounded and died upon the
+field, and Jackson, with his wonderful ability to see what was happening
+and his equal power of decision, swiftly withdrew that wing of his army,
+also carrying with it every gun.
+
+A great shout of triumph rose from the men in blue as they saw the
+Southern retreat.
+
+“We win! We win!” cried Pennington again.
+
+“Yes, we win!” shouted Warner, usually so cool.
+
+And it did seem even to older men that the triumph was complete. The
+blue and the gray were face to face in the smoke, but the gray were
+driven back by the fierce and irresistible charge, and, as their flight
+became swifter, the shells and grape from the Northern batteries plunged
+and tore through their ranks. Nothing stopped the blue wave. It rolled
+on and on, sweeping a mass of fugitives before it, and engulfing others.
+
+Dick had no ordered knowledge of the charge. He was a part of it, and he
+saw only straight in front of him, but he was conscious that all around
+him there was a fiery red mist, and a confused and terrible noise of
+shouting and firing. But they were winning! They were beating Stonewall
+Jackson himself. His pulses throbbed so hard that he thought his
+arteries would burst, and his lips were dry and blackened from smoke,
+burned gunpowder and his own hot breath issuing like steam between them.
+
+Then came a halt so sudden and terrible that it shook Dick as if by
+physical contact. He looked around in wonder. The charge was spent, not
+from its lack of strength but because they had struck an obstacle. They
+had reckoned ill, because they had not reckoned upon all the resources
+of Stonewall Jackson's mind. He had stemmed the rout in person and now
+he was pushing forward the Stonewall Brigade, five regiments, which
+always had but two alternatives, to conquer or to die. Hill and Ewell
+with fresh troops were coming up also on his flanks, and now the blue
+and the gray, face to face again, closed in mortal combat.
+
+“We've stopped! We've stopped! Do you hear it, we've stopped!” exclaimed
+Pennington, his face a ghastly reek of dust and perspiration, his eyes
+showing amazement and wonder how the halt could have happened. Dick
+shared in the terrible surprise. The fire in front of him deepened
+suddenly. Men were struck down all about him. Heavy masses of troops in
+gray showed through the smoke. The Stonewall Brigade was charging, and
+regiments were charging with it on either side.
+
+The column in blue was struck in front and on either flank. It not only
+ceased its victorious advance, but it began to give ground. The men
+could not help it, despite their most desperate efforts. It seemed to
+Dick that the earth slipped under their feet. A tremendous excitement
+seized him at the thought of victory lost just when it seemed won. He
+ran up and down the lines, shouting to the men to stand firm. He saw
+that the senior officers were doing the same, but there was little
+order or method in his own movements. It was the excitement and bitter
+humiliation that drove him on.
+
+He stumbled in the smoke against Sergeant Whitley. The sergeant's
+forehead had been creased by a bullet, but so much dust and burned
+gunpowder had gathered upon it that it was as black as the face of a
+black man.
+
+“Are we to lose after all?” exclaimed Dick.
+
+It seemed strange to him, even at that moment, that he should hear
+his own voice amid such a roar of cannon and rifles. But it was an
+undernote, and he heard with equal ease the sergeant's reply:
+
+“It ain't decided yet, Mr. Mason, but we've got to fight as we never
+fought before.”
+
+The Union men, both those who had faced Jackson before and those who
+were now meeting him for the first time, fought with unsurpassed valor,
+but, unequal in numbers, they saw the victory wrenched from their grasp.
+Jackson now had his forces in the hollow of his hand. He saw everything
+that was passing, and with the mind of a master he read the meaning of
+it. He strengthened his own weak points and increased the attack upon
+those of the North.
+
+Dick remained beside the sergeant. He had lost sight of Colonel
+Winchester, Warner and Pennington in the smoke and the dreadful
+confusion, but he saw well enough that his fears were coming true.
+
+The attack in front increased in violence, and the Northern army was
+also attacked with fiery energy on both flanks. The men had the actual
+physical feeling that they were enclosed in the jaws of a vise, and,
+forced to abandon all hope of victory, they fought now to escape. Two
+small squadrons of cavalry, scarce two hundred in number, sent forward
+from a wood, charged the whole Southern army under a storm of cannon and
+rifle fire. They equalled the ride of the Six Hundred at Balaklava, but
+with no poet to celebrate it, it remained like so many other charges in
+this war, an obscure and forgotten incident.
+
+Dick saw the charge of the horsemen, and the return of the few. Then
+he lost hope. Above the roar of the battle the rebel yell continually
+swelled afresh. The setting sun, no longer golden but red, cast a
+sinister light over the trampled wheat field, the slopes and the woods
+torn by cannon balls. The dead and the wounded lay in thousands, and
+Banks, brave and tenacious, but with bitter despair in his heart, was
+seeking to drag the remains of his army from that merciless vise which
+continued to close down harder and harder.
+
+Dick's excitement and tension seemed to abate. He had been keyed to so
+high a pitch that his pulses grew gentler through very lack of force,
+and with the relaxation came a clearer view. He saw the sinking red
+sun through the banks of smoke, and in fancy he already felt the cool
+darkness upon his face after the hot and terrible August day. He knew
+that night might save them, and he prayed deeply and fervently for its
+swift coming.
+
+He and the sergeant came suddenly to Colonel Winchester, whose hat had
+been shot from his head, but who was otherwise unharmed. Warner and
+Pennington were near, Warner slightly wounded but apparently unaware of
+the fact. The colonel, by shout and by gesture, was gathering around him
+the remains of his regiment. Other regiments on either side were trying
+to do the same, and eventually they formed a compact mass which, driving
+with all its force back toward its old position, reached the hills and
+the woods just as the jaws of Stonewall Jackson's vise shut down, but
+not upon the main body.
+
+Victory, won for a little while, had been lost. Night protected their
+retreat, and they fought with a valor that made Jackson and all his
+generals cautious. But this knowledge was little compensation to the
+Northern troops. They knew that behind them was a great army, that Pope
+might have been present with fifty thousand men, sufficient to overwhelm
+Jackson. Instead of the odds being more than two to one in their favor,
+they had been two to one against them.
+
+It was a sullen army that lay in the woods in the first hour or two of
+the night, gasping for breath. These men had boasted that they were
+a match for those of Jackson, and they were, if they could only have
+traded generals. Dick and his comrades from the west began to share in
+the awe that the name of Stonewall Jackson inspired.
+
+“He comes up to his advertisements. There ain't no doubt of it,” said
+Sergeant Whitley. “I never saw anybody fight better than our men did,
+an' that charge of the little troop of cavalry was never beat anywhere
+in the world. But here we are licked, and thirty or forty thousand men
+of ours not many miles away!”
+
+He spoke the last words with a bitterness that Dick had never heard in
+his voice before.
+
+“It's simple,” said Warner, who was binding up his little wound with his
+own hand. “It's just a question in mathematics. I see now how Stonewall
+Jackson won so many triumphs in the Valley of Virginia. Give Jackson,
+say, fifteen thousand men. We have fifty thousand, but we divide them
+into five armies of ten thousand apiece. Jackson fights them in detail,
+which is five battles, of course. His fifteen thousand defeat the ten
+thousand every time. Hence Jackson with fifteen thousand men has beaten
+our side. It's simple but painful. In time our leaders will learn.”
+
+“After we're all killed,” said Pennington sadly.
+
+“And the country is ripped apart so that it will take half a century to
+put the pieces back together again and put 'em back right,” said Dick,
+with equal sadness.
+
+“Never mind,” said Sergeant Whitley with returning cheerfulness. “Other
+countries have survived great wars and so will ours.”
+
+Some food was obtained for the exhausted men and they ate it nervously,
+paying little attention to the crackling fire of the skirmishers which
+was still going on in the darkness along their front. Dick saw the pink
+flashes along the edges of the woods and the wheat field, but his mind,
+deadened for the time, took no further impressions. Skirmishers were
+unpleasant people, anyway. Let them fight down there. It did not matter
+what they might do to one another. A minute or two later he was ashamed
+of such thoughts.
+
+Colonel Winchester, who had been to see General Banks, returned
+presently and told them that they would march again in half an hour.
+
+“General Banks,” he said with bitter irony, “is afraid that a powerful
+force of the rebels will gain his rear and that we shall be surrounded.
+He ought to know. He has had enough dealings with Jackson. Outmaneuvered
+and outflanked again! Why can't we learn something?”
+
+But he said this to the young officers only. He forced a cheerfulness
+of tone when he spoke to the men, and they dragged themselves wearily
+to their feet in order to begin the retreat. But though the muscles
+were tired the spirit was not unwilling. All the omens were sinister,
+pointing to the need of withdrawal. The vicious skirmishers were still
+busy and a crackling fire came from many points in the woods. The
+occasional rolling thunder of a cannon deepened the somberness of the
+scene.
+
+All the officers of the regiment had lost their horses and they walked
+now with the men. A full moon threw a silvery light over the marching
+troops, who strode on in silence, the wounded suppressing their groans.
+A full moon cast a silvery light over the pallid faces.
+
+“Do you know where we are going?” Dick asked of the Vermonter.
+
+“I heard that we're bound for a place called Culpeper Court House,
+six or seven miles away. I suppose we'll get there in the morning, if
+Stonewall Jackson doesn't insist on another interview with us.”
+
+“There's enough time in the day for fighting,” said Pennington, “without
+borrowing of the night. Hear that big gun over there on our right! Why
+do they want to be firing cannon balls at such a time?”
+
+They trudged gloomily on, following other regiments ghostly in the
+moonlight, and followed by others as ghostly. But the sinister omens,
+the flash of rifle firing and the far boom of a cannon, were always on
+their flanks. The impression of Jackson's skill and power which Dick had
+gained so quickly was deepening already. He did not have the slightest
+doubt now that the Southern leader was pressing forward through the
+woods to cut them off. As the sergeant had said truly, he came up to
+his advertisements and more. Dick shivered and it was a shiver of
+apprehension for the army, and not for himself.
+
+In accordance with human nature he and the boy officers who were his
+good comrades talked together, but their sentences were short and
+broken.
+
+“Marching toward a court house,” said Pennington. “What'll we do when we
+get there? Lawyers won't help us.”
+
+“Not so much marching toward a court house as marching away from
+Jackson,” said the Vermonter.
+
+“We'll march back again,” said Dick hopefully.
+
+“But when?” said Pennington. “Look through the trees there on our right.
+Aren't those rebel troops?”
+
+Dick's startled gaze beheld a long line of horsemen in gray on their
+flank and only a few hundred yards away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. AT THE CAPITAL
+
+
+The Southern cavalry was seen almost at the same time by many men in the
+regiments, and nervous and hasty, as was natural at such a time, they
+opened a scattering fire. The horsemen did not return the fire, but
+seemed to melt away in the darkness.
+
+But the shrewdest of the officers, among whom was Colonel Winchester,
+took alarm at this sudden appearance and disappearance. Dick would have
+divined from their manner, even without their talk, that they believed
+Jackson was at hand. Action followed quickly. The army stopped and
+began to seek a strong position in the wood. Cannon were drawn up, their
+mouths turned to the side on which the horsemen had appeared, and the
+worn regiments assumed the attitude of defense. Dick's heart throbbed
+with pride when he saw that they were as ready as ever to fight,
+although they had suffered great losses and the bitterest of
+disappointments.
+
+“What I said I've got to say over again,” said Pennington ruefully: “the
+night's no time for fighting. It's heathenish in Stonewall Jackson to
+follow us, and annoy us in such a way.”
+
+“Such a way! Such a way!” said Dick impatiently. “We've got to learn to
+fight as he does. Good God, Frank, think of all the sacrifices we are
+making to save our Union, the great republic! Think how the hateful old
+monarchies will sneer and rejoice if we fall, and here in the East our
+generals just throw our men away! They divide and scatter our armies in
+such a manner that we simply ask to be beaten.”
+
+“Sh! sh!” said Warner, as he listened to the violent outbreak, so
+unusual on the part of the reserved and self-contained lad. “Here come
+two generals.”
+
+“Two too many,” muttered Dick. A moment or two later he was ashamed of
+himself, not because of what he had said, but because he had said it.
+Then Warner seized him by the arm and pointed.
+
+“A new general, bigger than all the rest, has come,” he said, “and
+although I've never seen him before I know with mathematical certainty
+that it's General John Pope, commander-in-chief of the Army of
+Virginia.”
+
+Both Dick and Pennington knew instinctively that Warner was right.
+General Pope, a strongly built man in early middle years, surrounded by
+a brilliant staff, rode into a little glade in the midst of the troops,
+and summoned to him the leading officers who had taken part in the
+battle.
+
+Dick and his two comrades stood on one side, but they could not keep
+from hearing what was said and done. In truth they did not seek to
+avoid hearing, nor did many of the young privates who stood near and who
+considered themselves quite as good as their officers.
+
+Pope, florid and full-faced, was in a fine humor. He complimented the
+officers on their valor, spoke as if they had won a victory--which would
+have been a fact had others done their duty--and talked slightingly of
+Jackson. The men of the west would show this man his match in the art of
+war.
+
+Dick listened to it all with bitterness in his heart. He had no doubt
+that Pope was brave, and he could see that he was confident. Yet it took
+something more than confidence to defeat an able enemy. What had become
+of those gray horsemen in the bush? They had appeared once and they
+could appear again. He had believed that Jackson himself was at hand,
+and he still believed it. His eyes shifted from Pope to the dark woods,
+which, with their thick foliage, turned back the moonlight.
+
+“George,” he whispered to Warner, “do you think you can see anything
+among those trees?”
+
+“I can make out dimly one or two figures, which no doubt are our scouts.
+Ah-h!”
+
+The long “Ah-h!” was drawn by a flash and the report of a rifle. A
+second and a third report came, and then the crash of a heavy fire. The
+scouts and sentinels came running in, reporting that a great force with
+batteries, presumably the whole army of Jackson, was at hand.
+
+A deep murmur ran through the Union army, but there was no confusion.
+The long hours of fighting had habituated them to danger. They were
+also too tired to become excited, and in addition, they were of as stern
+stuff at night as they had been in the morning. They were ready to fight
+again.
+
+Formidable columns of troops appeared through the woods, their bayonets
+glistening in the moonlight. The heavy rifle fire began once more,
+although it was nearly midnight, and then came the deep thunder of
+cannon, sending round shot and shells among the Union troops. But the
+men in blue, harried beyond endurance, fought back fiercely. They shared
+the feelings of Pennington. They felt that they had been persecuted,
+that this thing had grown inhuman, and they used rifles and cannon with
+astonishing vigor and energy.
+
+Two heavy Union batteries replied to the Southern cannon, raking the
+woods with shell, round shot and grape, and Dick concluded that in the
+face of so much resolution Jackson would not press an attack at night,
+when every kind of disaster might happen in the darkness. His own
+regiment had lain down among the leaves, and the men were firing at the
+flashes on their right. Dick looked for General Pope and his brilliant
+staff, but he did not see them.
+
+“Gone to bring up the reserves,” whispered Warner, who saw Dick's
+inquiring look.
+
+But the Vermonter's slur was not wholly true. Pope was on his way to his
+main force, doubtless not really believing that Jackson himself was
+at hand. But the little army that he left behind fighting with renewed
+energy and valor broke away from the Southern grasp and continued its
+march toward that court house, in which the boys could see no merit.
+Jackson himself, knowing what great numbers were ahead, was content to
+swing away and seek for prey elsewhere.
+
+They emerged from the wood toward morning and saw ahead of them great
+masses of troops in blue. They would have shouted with joy, but they
+were too tired. Besides, nearly two thousand of their men were killed or
+wounded, and they had no victory to celebrate.
+
+Dick ate breakfast with his comrades. The Northern armies nearly always
+had an abundance of provisions, and now they were served in plenty. For
+the moment, the physical overcame the mental in Dick. It was enough to
+eat and to rest and to feel secure. Thousands of friendly faces were
+around them, and they would not have to fight in either day or dark for
+their lives. Their bones ceased to ache, and the good food and the good
+coffee began to rebuild the worn tissues. What did the rest matter?
+
+After breakfast these men who had marched and fought for nearly twenty
+hours were told to sleep. Only one command was needed. It was August,
+and the dry grass and the soft earth were good enough for anybody. The
+three lads, each with an arm under his head, slept side by side. At noon
+they were still sleeping, and Colonel Winchester, as he was passing,
+looked at the three, but longest at Dick. His gaze was half affection,
+half protection, but it was not the boy alone whom he saw. He saw also
+his fair-haired young mother in that little town on the other side of
+the mountains.
+
+While Dick still slept, the minds of men were at work. Pope's army,
+hitherto separated, was now called together by a battle. Troops from
+every direction were pouring upon the common center. The little army
+which had fought so gallantly the day before now amounted to only
+one-fourth of the whole. McDowell, Sigel and many other generals joined
+Pope, who, with the strange faculty of always seeing his enemy too
+small, while McClellan always saw him too large, began to feed upon his
+own sanguine anticipations, and to regard as won the great victory that
+he intended to win. He sent telegrams to Washington announcing that his
+triumph at Cedar Run was only the first of a series that his army would
+soon achieve.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when Dick awoke, and he was amazed to see
+that the sun was far down the western sky. But he rubbed his eyes and,
+remembering, knew that he had slept at least ten hours. He looked down
+at the relaxed figures of Warner and Pennington on either side of him.
+They still slumbered soundly, but he decided that they had slept long
+enough.
+
+“Here, you,” he exclaimed, seizing Warner by the collar and dragging him
+to a sitting position, “look at the sun! Do you realize that you've lost
+a day out of your bright young life?”
+
+Then he seized Pennington by the collar also and dragged him up. Both
+Warner and Pennington yawned prodigiously.
+
+“If I've lost a day, and it would seem that I have, then I'm glad of
+it,” replied Warner. “I could afford to lose several in such a pleasant
+manner. I suppose a lot of Stonewall Jackson's men were shooting at me
+while I slept, but I was lucky and didn't know about it.”
+
+“You talk too long,” said Pennington. “That comes of your having taught
+school. You could talk all day to boys younger than yourself, and they
+were afraid to answer back.”
+
+“Shut up, both of you,” said Dick. “Here comes the sergeant, and I think
+from his look he has something to say worth hearing.”
+
+Sergeant Whitley had cleansed the blood and dust from his face, and
+a handkerchief tied neatly around his head covered up the small
+wound there. He looked trim and entirely restored, both mentally and
+physically.
+
+“Well, sergeant,” said Dick ingratiatingly, “if any thing has happened
+in this army you're sure to know of it. We'd have known it ourselves,
+but we had an important engagement with Morpheus, a world away, and we
+had to keep it. Now what is the news?”
+
+“I don't know who Morpheus is,” replied the sergeant, laughing, “but
+I'd guess from your looks that he is another name for sleep. There is no
+news of anything big happenin'. We've got a great army here, and Jackson
+remains near our battlefield of yesterday. I should say that we number
+at least fifty thousand men, or about twice the rebels.”
+
+“Then why don't we march against 'em at once?”
+
+The sergeant shrugged his shoulders. It was not for him to tell why
+generals did not do things.
+
+“I think,” he said, “that we're likely to stay here a day or two.”
+
+“Which means,” said Dick, his alert mind interpreting at once, “that
+our generals don't know what to do. Why is it that they always seem
+paralyzed when they get in front of Stonewall Jackson? He's only a man
+like the rest of them!”
+
+He spoke with perfect freedom in the presence of Sergeant Whitley,
+knowing that he would repeat nothing.
+
+“A man, yes,” said Warner, in his precise manner, “but not exactly like
+the others. He seems to have more of the lightning flash about him. What
+a pity such a leader should be on the wrong side! Perhaps we'll have his
+equal in time.”
+
+“Is Jackson's army just sitting still?” asked Dick.
+
+“So far as scouts can gather, an' I've been one of them,” replied
+Sergeant Whitley, “it seems to be just campin'. But I wish I knew which
+way it was goin' to jump. I don't trust Jackson when he seems to be
+nappin'.”
+
+But the good sergeant's doubts were to remain for two days at least. The
+two armies sat still, only two miles apart, and sentinels, as was common
+throughout the great war, became friendly with one another. Often they
+met in the woods and exchanged news and abundant criticism of generals.
+At last there was a truce to bury the dead who still lay upon the
+sanguinary field of Cedar Run.
+
+Dick was in charge of one of these burial parties, and toward the close
+of the day he saw a familiar figure, also in command of a burial party,
+although it was in a gray uniform. His heart began to thump, and
+he uttered a cry of joy. The unexpected, but not the unnatural, had
+happened.
+
+“Oh, Harry! Harry!” he shouted.
+
+The strong young figure in the uniform of a lieutenant in the Southern
+army turned in surprise at the sound of a familiar voice, and stood,
+staring.
+
+“Dick! Dick Mason!” he cried. Then the two sprang forward and grasped
+the hands of each other. There was no display of emotion--they were of
+the stern American stock, taught not to show its feelings--but their
+eyes showed their gladness.
+
+“Harry,” said Dick, “I knew that you had been with Jackson, but I had no
+way of knowing until a moment ago that you were yet alive.”
+
+“Nor I you, Dick. I thought you were in the west.”
+
+“I was, but after Shiloh, some of us came east to help. It seemed after
+the Seven Days that we were needed more here than in the west.”
+
+“You never said truer words, Dick. They'll need you and many more
+thousands like you. Why, Dick, we're not led here by a man, we're led
+by a thunderbolt. I'm on his staff, I see him every day. He talks to
+me, and I talk to him. I tell you, Dick, it's a wonderful thing to serve
+such a genius. You can't beat him! His kind appears only a few times in
+the ages. He always knows what's to be done and he does it. Even if your
+generals knew what ought to be done, most likely they'd do something
+else.”
+
+Harry's face glowed with enthusiasm as he spoke of his hero, and Dick,
+looking at him, shook his head sadly.
+
+“I'm afraid that what you say is true for the present at least, Harry,”
+ he said. “You beat us now here in the east, but don't forget that we're
+winning in the west. And don't forget that here in the east even, you
+can never wear us out. We'll be coming, always coming.”
+
+“All right, old Sober Sides, we won't quarrel about it. We'll let time
+settle it. Here come some friends of mine whom I want you to know.
+Curious that you should meet them at such a time.”
+
+Two other young lieutenants in gray uniforms at the head of burial
+parties came near in the course of their work, and Harry called to them.
+
+“Tom! Arthur! A moment, please! This is my cousin, Dick Mason, a Yankee,
+though I think he's honest in his folly. Dick, this is Arthur St. Clair,
+and this is Tom Langdon, both friends of mine from South Carolina.”
+
+They shook hands warmly. There was no animosity between them. Dick
+liked the looks and manners of Harry's friends. He could have been their
+friend, too.
+
+“Harry has talked about you often,” said Happy Tom Langdon. “Says you're
+a great scholar, and a good fellow, all right every way, except the
+crack in your head that makes you a Yankee. I hope you won't get hurt in
+this unpleasantness, and when our victorious army comes into Washington
+we'll take good care of you and release you soon.”
+
+Dick smiled. He liked this youth who could keep up the spirit of fun
+among such scenes.
+
+“Don't you pay any attention to Langdon, Mr. Mason,” said St. Clair. “If
+he'd only fight as well and fast as he talks there'd be no need for the
+rest of us.”
+
+“You know you couldn't win the war without me,” said Langdon.
+
+They talked a little more together, then trumpets blew, the work was
+done and they must withdraw to their own armies. They had been engaged
+in a grewsome task, but Dick was glad to the bottom of his heart to have
+been sent upon it. He had learned that Harry still lived, and he had met
+him. He did not understand until then how dear his cousin was to him.
+They were more like brothers than cousins. It was like the affection
+their great-grandfathers, Henry Ware and Paul Cotter, had felt for each
+other, although those famous heroes of the border had always fought
+side by side, while their descendants were compelled to face each other
+across a gulf.
+
+They shook hands and withdrew slowly. At the edge of the field, Dick
+turned to wave another farewell, and he found that Harry, actuated
+by the same motive at the same time, had also turned to make a like
+gesture. Each waved twice, instead of once, and then they disappeared
+among the woods. Dick returned to Colonel Winchester.
+
+“While we were under the flag of truce I met my cousin, Harry Kenton,”
+ he said.
+
+“One of the lucky fortunes of war.”
+
+“Yes, sir, I was very glad to see him. I did not know how glad I was
+until I came away. He says that we can never beat Jackson, that nothing
+but death can ever stop him.”
+
+“Youth often deceives itself, nor is age any exception. Never lose hope,
+Dick.”
+
+“I don't mean to do so, sir.”
+
+The next morning, when Dick was with one of the outposts, a man of
+powerful build, wonderfully quick and alert in his movements, appeared.
+His coming was so quick and silent that he seemed to rise from the
+earth, and Dick was startled. The man's face was uncommon. His features
+were of great strength, the eyes being singularly vivid and penetrating.
+He was in civilian's dress, but he promptly showed a pass from General
+Pope, and Dick volunteered to take him to headquarters, where he said he
+wished to go.
+
+Dick became conscious as they walked along that the man was examining
+him minutely with those searching eyes of his which seemed to look one
+through and through.
+
+“You are Lieutenant Richard Mason,” said the stranger presently, “and
+you have a cousin, Harry Kenton, also a lieutenant, but in the army of
+Stonewall Jackson.”
+
+Dick stared at him in amazement.
+
+“Everything you say is true,” he said, “but how did you know it?”
+
+“It's my business to know. Knowledge is my sole pursuit in this great
+war, and a most engrossing and dangerous task I find it. Yet, I would
+not leave it. My name is Shepard, and I am a spy. You needn't shrink.
+I'm not ashamed of my occupation. Why should I be? I don't kill. I don't
+commit any violence. I'm a guide and educator. I and my kind are the
+eyes of an army. We show the generals where the enemy is, and we
+tell them his plans. An able and daring spy is worth more than many
+a general. Besides, he takes the risk of execution, and he can win no
+glory, for he must always remain obscure, if not wholly unknown. Which,
+then, makes the greater sacrifice for his country, the spy or the
+general?”
+
+“You give me a new point of view. I had not thought before how spies
+risked so much for so little reward.”
+
+Shepard smiled. He saw that in spite of his logic Dick yet retained
+that slight feeling of aversion. The boy left him, when they arrived at
+headquarters, but the news that Shepard brought was soon known to the
+whole army.
+
+Jackson had left his camp. He was gone again, disappeared into the
+ether. “Retreated” was the word that Pope at once seized upon, and he
+sent forth happy bulletins. Shepard and other scouts and spies reported
+a day or two later that Jackson's army was on the Rapidan, one of the
+numerous Virginia rivers. Then Dick accompanied Colonel Winchester, who
+was sent by rail to Washington with dispatches.
+
+He did not find in the capital the optimism that reigned in the mind of
+Pope. McClellan was withdrawing his army from Virginia, but the eyes of
+the nation were turned toward Pope. Many who had taken deep thought of
+the times and of men, were more alarmed about Pope than he was about
+himself. They did not like those jubilant dispatches from “Headquarters
+in the Saddle.” There was ominous news that Lee himself was marching
+north, and that he and Jackson would soon be together. Anxious eyes
+scanned the hills about Washington. The enemy had been very near once
+before, and he might soon be near again.
+
+Dick had an hour of leisure, and he wandered into an old hotel, at which
+many great men had lived. They would point to Henry Clay's famous chair
+in the lobby, and the whole place was thick with memories of Webster,
+Calhoun and others who had seemed almost demigods to their own
+generation.
+
+But a different crowd was there now. They were mostly paunchy men who
+talked of contracts and profits. One, to whom the others paid deference,
+was fat, heavy and of middle age, with a fat, heavy face and pouches
+under his eyes. His small eyes were set close together, but they
+sparkled with shrewdness and cunning.
+
+The big man presently noticed the lad who was sitting quietly in one
+of the chairs against the wall. Dick's was an alien presence there, and
+doubtless this fact had attracted his attention.
+
+“Good day to you,” said the stranger in a bluff, deep voice. “I take
+it from your uniform, your tan and your thinness that you've come from
+active service.”
+
+“In both the west and the east,” replied Dick politely. “I was at
+Shiloh, but soon afterward I was transferred with my regiment to the
+east.”
+
+“Ah, then, of course, you know what is going on in Virginia?”
+
+“No more than the general public does. I was at Cedar Run, which both we
+and the rebels claim as a victory.”
+
+The man instantly showed a great increase of interest.
+
+“Were you?” he said. “My own information says that Banks and Pope were
+surprised by Jackson and that the rebel general has merely drawn off to
+make a bigger jump. Did you get that impression?”
+
+“Will you tell me why you ask me these questions?” said Dick in the same
+polite tone.
+
+“Because I've a big stake in the results out there. My name is John
+Watson, and I'm supplying vast quantities of shoes and clothing to our
+troops.”
+
+Dick turned up the sole of one of his shoes and picked thoughtfully at a
+hole half way through the sole. Little pieces of paper came out.
+
+“I bought these, Mr. Watson, from a sutler in General Pope's army,” he
+said. “I wonder if they came from you?”
+
+A deeper tint flushed the contractor's cheeks, but in a moment he threw
+off anger.
+
+“A good joke,” he said jovially. “I see that you're ready of wit,
+despite your youth. No, those are not my shoes. I know dishonest men are
+making great sums out of supplies that are defective or short. A great
+war gives such people many opportunities, but I scorn them. I'll not
+deny that I seek a fair profit, but my chief object is to serve my
+country. Do you ever reflect, my young friend, that the men who clothe
+and feed an army have almost as much to do with winning the victory as
+the men who fight?”
+
+“I've thought of it,” said Dick, wondering what the contractor had in
+mind.
+
+“What regiment do you belong to, if I may ask? My motive in asking these
+questions is wholly good.”
+
+“One commanded by Colonel Winchester, recently sent from the west. We've
+been in only one battle in the east, that fought at Cedar Run against
+Jackson.”
+
+Watson again looked at Dick intently. The boy felt that he was being
+measured and weighed by a man of uncommon perceptions. Whatever might be
+his moral quality there could be no question of his ability.
+
+“I am, as I told you before,” said Watson, “a servant of my country. A
+man who feeds and clothes the soldiers well is a patriot, while he who
+feeds and clothes them badly is a mere money grubber.”
+
+He paused, as if he expected Dick to say something, but the boy was
+silent and he went on:
+
+“It is to the interest of the country that it be served well in all
+departments, particularly in the tremendous crisis that we now face. Yet
+the best patriot cannot always get a chance to serve. He needs
+friends at court, as they say. Now this colonel of yours, Colonel
+Winchester--I've observed both him and you, although I approached you
+as if I'd never heard of either of you before--is a man of character and
+influence. Certain words from him at the right time would be of great
+value, nor would his favorite aide suffer through bringing the matter to
+his attention.”
+
+Dick saw clearly now, but he was not impulsive. Experience was teaching
+him, while yet a boy, to speak softly.
+
+“The young aide of whom you speak,” he said, “would never think of
+mentioning such a matter to the colonel, of whom you also speak, and
+even if he should, the colonel wouldn't listen to him for a moment.”
+
+Watson shrugged his shoulders slightly, but made no other gesture of
+displeasure.
+
+“Doubtless you are well informed about this aide and this colonel,” he
+said, “but it's a pity. If more food is thrown to the sparrows than they
+can eat, is it any harm for other birds to eat the remainder?”
+
+“I scarcely regard it as a study in ornithology.”
+
+“Ornithology? That's a big word, but I suppose it will serve. We'll
+drop the matter, and if at any time my words here should be quoted I'll
+promptly deny them. It's a bad thing for a boy to have his statements
+disputed by a man of years who can command wealth and other powerful
+influences. Unless he had witnesses nobody would believe the boy. I tell
+you this, my lad, partly for your own good, because I'm inclined to like
+you.”
+
+Dick stared. There was nothing insulting in the man's tone. He seemed
+to be thoroughly in earnest. Perhaps he regarded his point of view as
+right, and Dick, a boy of thought and resource, saw that it was not
+worth while to make a quarrel. But he resolved to remember Watson,
+feeling that the course of events might bring them together again.
+
+“I suppose it's as you say,” he said. “You're a man of affairs and you
+ought to know.”
+
+Watson smiled at him. Dick felt that the contractor had been telling
+the truth when he said that he was inclined to like him. Perhaps he was
+honest and supplied good materials, when others supplied bad.
+
+“You will shake hands with me, Mr. Mason,” he said. “You think that
+I will be hostile to you, but maybe some day I can prove myself your
+friend. Young soldiers often need friends.”
+
+His eyes twinkled and his smile widened. In spite of his appearance and
+his proposition, something winning had suddenly appeared in the manner
+of this man. Dick found himself shaking hands with him.
+
+“Good-bye, Mr. Mason,” said Watson. “It may be that we shall meet on the
+field, although I shall not be within range of the guns.”
+
+He left the lobby of the hotel, and Dick was rather puzzled. It was
+his first thought to tell Colonel Winchester about him, but he finally
+decided that Watson's own advice to him to keep silent was best. He and
+Colonel Winchester took the train from Washington the next day, and on
+the day after were with Pope's army on the Rapidan.
+
+Dick detected at once a feeling of excitement or tension in this army,
+at least among the young officers with whom he associated most. They
+felt that a storm of some kind was gathering, either in front or on
+their flank. McClellan's army was now on the transports, leaving behind
+the Virginia that he had failed to conquer, and Pope's, with a new
+commander, was not yet in shape. The moment was propitious for Lee and
+Jackson to strike, and the elusive Jackson was lost again.
+
+“Our scouts discover nothing,” said Warner to Dick. “The country is
+chockfull of hostility to us. Not a soul will tell us a word. We have to
+see a thing with our own eyes before we know it's there, but the people,
+the little children even, take news to the rebels. A veil is hung before
+us, but there is none before them.”
+
+“There is one man who is sure to find out about Jackson.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+Dick's only answer was a shake of the head. But he was thinking of
+Shepard. He did not see him about the camp, and he had no doubt that he
+was gone on another of his dangerous missions. Meanwhile newspapers from
+New York and other great cities reflected the doubts of the North. They
+spoke of Pope's grandiloquent dispatches, and they wondered what had
+become of Lee and Jackson.
+
+Dick, an intense patriot, passed many bitter moments. He, like others,
+felt that the hand upon the reins was not sure. Instead of finding the
+enemy and assailing him with all their strength, they were waiting in
+doubt and alarm to fend off a stroke that would come from some unknown
+point out of the dark.
+
+The army now lay in one of the finest parts of Virginia, a region of
+picturesque mountains, wide and fertile valleys, and of many clear
+creeks and rivers coming down from the peaks and ridges. To one side lay
+a great forest, known as the Wilderness, destined, with the country near
+it, to become the greatest battlefield of the world. Here, the terrible
+battles of the Second Manassas, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville,
+the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, and others less sanguinary, but great
+struggles, nevertheless, were to be fought.
+
+But these were yet in the future, and Dick, much as his eyes had been
+opened, did not yet dream how tremendous the epic combat was to be. He
+only knew that to-day it was the middle of August, the valleys were very
+hot, but it was shady and cool on the hills and mountains. He knew, too,
+that he was young, and that pessimism and gloom could not abide long
+with him.
+
+He and Warner and Pennington had good horses, in place of those that
+they had lost at Cedar Run, and often they rode to the front to see
+what might be seen of the enemy, which at present was nothing. Their
+battlefield at Cedar Run had been reoccupied by Northern troops and Pope
+was now confirmed in his belief that his men had won a victory there.
+And this victory was to be merely a prelude to another and far greater
+one.
+
+As they rode here and there in search of the enemy, Dick came upon
+familiar ground. Once more he saw the field of Manassas which had been
+lost so hardly the year before. He remembered every hill and brook and
+curve of the little river, because they had been etched into his brain
+with steel and fire. How could anyone forget that day?
+
+“Looks as if we might fight our battle of last year over again, but on a
+much bigger scale,” he said to Warner.
+
+“Here or hereabouts,” said the Vermonter, “and I think we ought to win.
+They've got the better generals, but we've got more men. Besides, our
+troops are becoming experienced and they've shown their mettle. Dick,
+here's a farmer gathering corn. Let's ask him some questions, but I'll
+wager you a hundred to one before we begin that he knows absolutely
+nothing about the rebel army. In fact, I doubt that he will know of its
+existence.”
+
+“I won't take your bet,” said Dick.
+
+They called to the man, a typical Virginia farmer in his shirt sleeves,
+tall and spare, short whiskers growing under his chin. There was not
+much difference between him and his brother farmer in New England.
+
+“Good-day,” said Warner.
+
+“Good-day.”
+
+“You seem to be working hard.”
+
+“I've need to do it. Farm hands are scarce these days.”
+
+“Farming is hard work.”
+
+“Yes; but it's a lot safer than some other kinds men are doin'
+nowadays.”
+
+“True, no doubt, but have you seen anything of the army?”
+
+“What army?”
+
+“The one under Lee and Jackson, the rebel army.”
+
+“I ain't heard of no rebel army, mister. I don't know of any such people
+as rebels.”
+
+“You call it the Confederate army. Can you tell us anything about the
+Confederate army?”
+
+“What Confederate army, mister? I heard last month when I went in to the
+court house that there was more than one of them.”
+
+“I mean the one under Lee and Jackson.”
+
+“That's cur'us. A man come ridin' 'long here three or four weeks ago.
+Mebbe he was a lightnin' rod agent an' mebbe he had patent medicines to
+sell, he didn't say, but he did tell me that General Jackson was in one
+place an General Lee was in another. Now which army do you mean?”
+
+“That was nearly a month ago. They are together now.”
+
+“Then, mister, if you know so much more about it than I do, what are you
+askin' me questions for?”
+
+“But I want to know about Lee and Jackson. Have you seen them?”
+
+“Lord bless you, mister, them big generals don't come visitin' the likes
+o' me. You kin see my house over thar among the trees. You kin search it
+if you want to, but you won't find nothin'.”
+
+“I don't want to search your house. You can't hide a great army in a
+house. I want to know if you've seen the Southern Army. I want to know
+if you've heard anything about it.”
+
+“I ain't seed it. My sight's none too good, mister. Sometimes the
+blazin' sun gits in my eyes and kinder blinds me for a long time. Then,
+too, I'm bad of hearin'; but I'm a powerful good sleeper. When I sleep I
+don't hear nothin', of course, an' nothin' wakes me up. I just sleep on,
+sometimes dreamin' beautiful dreams. A million men wouldn't wake me, an'
+mebbe a dozen armies or so have passed in the night while I was sleepin'
+so good. I'd tell you anything I know, but them that knows nothin' has
+nothin' to tell.”
+
+Warner's temper, although he had always practiced self-control, had
+begun to rise, but he checked it, seeing that it would be a mere foolish
+display of weakness in the face of the blank wall that confronted him.
+
+“My friend,” he said with gravity, “I judge from the extreme ignorance
+you display concerning great affairs that you sleep a large part of the
+time.”
+
+“Mebbe so, an' mebbe not. I most gen'ally sleep when I'm sleepy. I've
+heard tell there was a big war goin' on in these parts, but this is my
+land, an' I'm goin' to stay on it.”
+
+“A good farmer, if not a good patriot. Good day.”
+
+“Good day.”
+
+They rode on and, in spite of themselves, laughed.
+
+“I'm willing to wager that he knows a lot about Lee and Jackson,” said
+Warner, “but the days of the rack and the thumbscrew passed long ago,
+and there is no way to make him tell.”
+
+“No,” said Dick, “but we ought to find out for ourselves.”
+
+Nevertheless, they discovered nothing. They saw no trace of a Southern
+soldier, nor did they hear news of any, and toward nightfall they rode
+back toward the army, much disappointed. The sunset was of uncommon
+beauty. The hot day was growing cool. Pleasant shadows were creeping
+up in the east. In the west a round mountain shouldered its black bulk
+against the sky. Dick looked at it vaguely. He had heard it called
+Clark's Mountain, and it was about seven miles away from the Union army
+which lay behind the Rapidan River.
+
+Dick liked mountains, and the peak looked beautiful against the red and
+yellow bars of the western horizon.
+
+“Have you ever been over there?” he said to Pennington and Warner.
+
+“No; but a lot of our scouts have,” replied Pennington. “It's just a
+mountain and nothing more. Funny how all those peaks and ridges crop
+up suddenly around here out of what seems meant to have been a level
+country.”
+
+“I like it better because it isn't level,” said Dick. “I'm afraid George
+and I wouldn't care much for your prairie country which just rolls on
+forever, almost without trees and clear running streams.”
+
+“You would care for it,” said Pennington stoutly. “You'd miss at first
+the clear rivers and creeks, but then the spell of it would take hold of
+you. The air you breathe isn't like the air you breathe anywhere else.”
+
+“We've got some air of our own in Vermont that we could brag about, if
+we wanted to,” said Warner, defiantly.
+
+“It's good, but not as good as ours. And then the vast distances, the
+great spaces take hold of you. And there's the sky so high and so clear.
+When you come away from the great plains you feel cooped up anywhere
+else.”
+
+Pennington spoke with enthusiasm, his nostrils dilating and his eyes
+flashing. Dick was impressed.
+
+“When the war's over I'm going out there to see your plains,” he said.
+
+“Then you're coming to see me!” exclaimed Pennington, with all the
+impulsive warmth of youth. “And George here is coming with you. I won't
+show you any mountains like the one over there, but boys, west of the
+Platte River, when I was with my father and some other men I watched for
+three days a buffalo herd passing. The herd was going north and all
+the time it stretched so far from east to west that it sank under each
+horizon. There must have been millions of them. Don't you think that was
+something worth seeing?”
+
+“We're surely coming,” said Dick, “and you be equally sure to have your
+buffalo herd ready for us when we come.”
+
+“It'll be there.”
+
+“Meanwhile, here we are at the Rapidan,” said the practical Warner, “and
+beyond it is our army. Look at that long line of fires, boys. Aren't
+they cheering? A fine big army like ours ought to beat off anything. We
+almost held our own with Jackson himself at Cedar Run, and he had two to
+one.”
+
+“We will win! We're bound to win!” said Dick, with sudden access of
+hope. “We'll crush Lee and Jackson, and next summer you and I, George,
+will be out on the western plains with Frank, watching the buffalo
+millions go thundering by!”
+
+They forded the Rapidan and rejoined their regiment with nothing to
+tell. But it was cheerful about the fires. Optimism reigned once more in
+the Army of Virginia. McClellan had sent word to Pope that he would have
+plenty of soldiers to face the attack that now seemed to be threatened
+by the South. Brigades from the Army of the Potomac would make the Army
+of Virginia invincible.
+
+Dick having nothing particular to do, sat late with his comrades before
+one of the finest of the fires, and he read only cheerful omens in the
+flames. It was a beautiful night. The moon seemed large and near, and
+the sky was full of dancing stars. In the clear night Dick saw the black
+bulk of Clark's Mountain off there against the horizon, but he could not
+see what was behind it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. BESIDE THE RIVER
+
+
+Dick was on duty early in the morning when he saw a horseman coming at
+a gallop toward the Rapidan. The man was in civilian clothing, but his
+figure seemed familiar. The boy raised his glasses, and he saw at once
+that it was Shepard. He saw, too, that he was urging his horse to its
+utmost speed.
+
+The boy's heart suddenly began to throb, and there was a cold, prickling
+sensation at the roots of his hair. Shepard had made an extraordinary
+impression upon him and he did not believe that the man would be coming
+at such a pace unless he came with great news.
+
+He saw Shepard stop, give the pass word to the pickets, then gallop on,
+ford the river and come straight toward the heart of the army. Dick ran
+forward and met him.
+
+“What is it?” he cried.
+
+“General Pope's tent! Where it is! I can't wait a minute.”
+
+Dick pointed toward a big marquee, standing in an open space, and
+Shepard leaping from his horse and abandoning it entirely, ran toward
+the marquee. A word or two to the sentinels, and he disappeared inside.
+
+Dick, devoured with curiosity and anxiety, went to Colonel Winchester
+with the story of what he had seen.
+
+“I know of Shepard,” said the colonel. “He is the best and most daring
+spy in the whole service of the North. I think you're right in inferring
+that he rides so fast for good cause.”
+
+Shepard remained with the commander-in-chief a quarter of an hour. When
+he came forth from the tent he regained his horse and rode away without
+a word, going in the direction of Clark's Mountain. But his news was
+quickly known, because it was of a kind that could not be concealed.
+Pennington came running with it to the regiment, his face flushed and
+his eyes big.
+
+“Look! Look at the mountain!” he exclaimed.
+
+“I see it,” said Warner. “I saw it there yesterday, too, in exactly the
+same place.”
+
+“So did I, but there's something behind it. Lee and Jackson are there
+with sixty or eighty thousand men! The whole Southern army is only six
+or seven miles away.”
+
+Even Warner's face changed.
+
+“How do you know this?” he asked.
+
+“A spy has seen their army. They say he is a man whose reports are never
+false. At any rate orders have already been issued for us to retreat
+and I hear that we're going back until we reach the Rappahannock, behind
+which we will camp.”
+
+Dick knew very well now that it was Shepard who brought the news, and
+Pennington's report about the retreat was also soon verified. The
+whole army was soon in motion and a feeling of depression replaced
+the optimism of the night before. The advance had been turned into a
+retreat. Were they to go back and forth in this manner forever? But
+Colonel Winchester spoke hopefully to his young aides and said that the
+retreat was right.
+
+“We're drawing out of a trap,” he said, “and time is always on our side.
+The South to win has to hit hard and fast, and in this case the Army of
+the Potomac and the Army of Virginia may join before Lee and Jackson can
+come up.”
+
+The lads tried to reconcile themselves, but nevertheless they did not
+like retreat. Dick with his powerful glasses often looked back toward
+the dark bulk of Clark's Mountain. He saw nothing there, nor anything in
+the low country between, save the rear ranks of the Union army marching
+on.
+
+But Shepard had been right. Lee and Jackson, advancing silently and with
+every avenue of news guarded, were there behind the mountain with sixty
+thousand men, flushed with victories, and putting a supreme faith in
+their great commanders who so well deserved their trust. The men of
+the valley and the Seven Days, wholly confident, asked only to be led
+against Pope and his army, and most of them expected a battle that very
+day, while the Northern commander was slipping from the well-laid trap.
+
+Pope's judgment in this case was good and fortune, too, favored him.
+Before the last of his men had left the Rapidan Lee himself, with his
+staff officers, climbed to the summit of Clark's Mountain. They were
+armed with the best of glasses, but drifting fogs coming down from
+the north spread along the whole side of the mountain and hung like a
+curtain between it and the retreating army. None of their glasses could
+pierce the veil, and it was not until nearly night that rising winds
+caught the fog and took it away. Then Lee and his generals saw a vast
+cloud of dust in the northwest and they knew that under it marched
+Pope's retreating army.
+
+The Southern army was at once ordered forward in pursuit and in the
+night the vanguard, wading the Rapidan, followed eagerly. Dick and his
+comrades did not know then that they were followed so closely, but
+they were destined to know it before morning. The regiment of Colonel
+Winchester, one of the best and bravest in the whole service, formed a
+part of the rearguard, and Dick, Warner and Pennington rode with their
+chief.
+
+The country was broken and they crossed small streams. Sometimes they
+were in open fields, and again they passed through long stretches of
+forest. There was a strong force of cavalry with the regiment, and the
+beat of the horses' hoofs made a steady rolling sound which was not
+unpleasant.
+
+But Dick found the night full of sinister omens. They had left the
+Rapidan in such haste that there was still a certain confusion of
+impressions. The gigantic scale of everything took hold of him. One
+hundred and fifty thousand men, or near it, were marching northward in
+two armies which could not be many miles apart. The darkness and the
+feeling of tragedy soon to come oppressed him.
+
+He listened eagerly for the sounds of pursuit, but the long hours passed
+and he heard nothing. The rear guard did not talk. The men wasted no
+strength that way, but marched stolidly on in the moonlight. Midnight
+passed and after a while it grew darker. Colonel Winchester and his
+young officers rode at the very rear, and Pennington suddenly held up
+his hand.
+
+“What is it?” asked Colonel Winchester.
+
+“Somebody following us, sir. I was trained out on the plains to take
+notice of such things. May I get down and put my ear to the ground? I
+may look ridiculous, sir, but I can make sure.”
+
+“Certainly. Go ahead.”
+
+Pennington sprang down and put his ear to the road. He did not listen
+long, but when he stood up again he said:
+
+“Horsemen are coming. I can't tell how many, but several hundreds at
+least.”
+
+“As we're the very last of our own army, they must be Southern cavalry,”
+ said Colonel Winchester. “If they want to attack, I dare say our boys
+are willing.”
+
+Very soon they heard clearly the gallop of the cavalry, and the men
+heard it also. They looked up and turned their faces toward those who
+must be foes. Despite the dimness Dick saw their eyes brighten. Colonel
+Winchester had judged rightly. The boys were willing.
+
+The rear guard turned back and waited, and in a few minutes the Southern
+horsemen came in sight, opening fire at once. Their infantry, too, soon
+appeared in the woods and fields and the dark hours before the dawn were
+filled with the crackle of small arms.
+
+Dick kept close to Colonel Winchester who anxiously watched the pursuit,
+throwing his own regiment across the road, and keeping up a heavy fire
+on the enemy. The Union loss was not great as most of the firing in the
+dusk, of necessity, was at random, and Dick heard bullets whistling all
+about him. Some times the bark flew from trees and now and then there
+was a rain of twigs, shorn from the branches by the showers of missiles.
+
+It was arduous work. The men were worn by the darkness, the uncertainty
+and the incessant pursuit. The Northern rear guard presented a strong
+front, retreating slowly with its face to the enemy, and always
+disputing the road. Dick meanwhile could hear through the crash of
+the firing the deep rumble of Pope's great army with its artillery and
+thousands of wagons continually marching toward the Rappahannock. His
+mind became absorbed in a vital question. Would Lee and Jackson come up
+before they could reach the bigger river? Would a battle be forced the
+next day while the Union army was in retreat? He confided his anxieties
+to Warner who rode by his side.
+
+“I take it that it's only a vanguard that's pursuing us,” said the
+Vermonter. “If they were in great force they'd have been pushing harder
+and harder. We must have got a good start before Lee and Jackson found
+us out. We know our Jackson, Dick, and he'd have been right on top of us
+without delay.”
+
+“That's right, George. It must be their cavalry mostly. I suppose Jeb
+Stuart is there leading them. At any rate we'll soon know better what's
+doing. Look there toward the east. Don't you see a ray of light behind
+that hill?”
+
+“I see it, Dick.”
+
+“Is it the first ray of the morning, or is it just a low star?”
+
+“It's the dawn, Dick, and mighty glad I am to see it. Look how fast it
+comes!”
+
+The sun shot up, over the hill. The sky turning to silver soon gave way
+to gold, and the clear August light poured in a flood over the rolling
+country.
+
+Dick saw ahead of him a vast cloud of dust extending miles from east
+to west, marking where the army of Pope pushed on its retreat to the
+Rappahannock. There was no need to search for the Northern force. The
+newest recruit would know that it was here.
+
+The Southern vanguard was behind them and not many hundred yards away.
+Dick distinctly saw the cavalry, riding along the road, and hundreds
+of skirmishers pushing through the woods and fields. He judged that
+the force did not number many thousands and that it could not think of
+assailing the whole Union army. But with the coming of day the vigor of
+the attack increased. The skirmishers fired from the shelter of every
+tree stump, fence or hillock and the bullets pattered about Dick and his
+comrades.
+
+The Union rear guard maintained its answering fire, but as it was
+retreating it was at a disadvantage. The regiments began to suffer. Many
+men were wounded. The fire became most galling. A sudden charge by the
+rearguard was ordered and it was made with spirit. The Southern van was
+driven back, but when the retreat was resumed the skirmishers and the
+cavalry came forward again, always firing at their retreating foe.
+
+“I judge that it's going to be a very hot morning,” said Colonel
+Winchester, wiping away a few drops of blood, where a bullet had barely
+touched his face. “I think the wind of that bullet hurt me more than its
+kiss. There will be no great battle to-day. We can see now that they
+are not yet in strong enough force, but we'll never know a minute's rest
+until we're behind the Rappahannock. Oh, Dick, if McClellan's army
+were only here also! This business of retreating is as bitter as death
+itself!”
+
+Dick saw the pain on his colonel's face and it was reflected on his own.
+
+“I feel it, sir, in the same way. Our men are just as eager as the
+Johnnies to fight and they are as brave and tenacious. What do you think
+will happen, sir?”
+
+“We'll reach the Rappahannock and take refuge behind it. We command the
+railroad bridge there, and can cross and destroy it afterward. But the
+river is broad and deep with high banks and the army of the enemy cannot
+possibly force the passage in any way while we defend it.”
+
+“And after that, sir?”
+
+“God alone knows. Look out, Dick, those men are aiming at us!”
+
+Colonel Winchester seized the bridle of Dick's horse and pulled him
+violently to one side, pulling his own horse in the same direction
+in the same manner. The bullets of half a dozen Southern skirmishers,
+standing under the boughs of a beech tree less than two hundred yards
+away, hissed angrily by them.
+
+“A close call,” said the colonel. “There, they've been scattered by our
+own riflemen and one of them remains to pay the toll.”
+
+The reply of the Northern skirmishers had been quick, and the gray
+figure lying prone by the trunk of the tree told Dick that the colonel
+had been right. He was shaken by a momentary shudder, but he could not
+long remember one among so many. They rode on, leaving the prone figure
+out of sight, and the Southern cavalry and skirmishers pressed forward
+afresh.
+
+Many of the Union men had food in their saddle bags, and supplies were
+sent back for those who did not have it. Colonel Winchester who was
+now thoroughly cool, advised his officers to eat, even if they felt no
+hunger.
+
+“I'm hungry enough,” said Pennington to Dick. “Out on the plains, where
+the air is so fresh and so full of life I was always hungry, and I
+suppose I brought my appetite here with me. Dick, I've opened a can of
+cove oysters, and that's a great deal for a fellow on horseback to
+do. Here, take your share, and they'll help out that dry bread you're
+munching.”
+
+Dick accepted with thanks. He learned that he, too, could eat with a
+good appetite while bullets were knocking up dust only twenty yards
+away. Meanwhile there was a steady flash of firing from every wood and
+cornfield behind them.
+
+As he ate he watched and he saw an amazing panorama. Miles in front
+the great cloud of dust, cutting across from horizon to horizon swelled
+slowly on toward the Rappahannock. Behind them rode the Southern cavalry
+and masses of infantry were pressing forward, too. Far off on either
+flank rolled the pleasant country, its beauty heightened by the loom of
+blue mountains.
+
+Colonel Winchester had predicted truly. The fighting between the
+Northern rearguard, and the Southern vanguard never ceased. Every moment
+the bullets were whistling, and occasionally a cannon lent its deep roar
+to the crackling fire of the rifles. Daring detachments of the Southern
+cavalry often galloped up and charged lagging regiments. And they were
+driven off with equal courage and daring.
+
+The three boys took especial notice of those cavalry bands and began
+to believe at last that they could identify the very men in them. Dick
+looked for his cousin, Harry Kenton. He was sure that he would be there
+in the front--but he did not see him. Instead he saw after a while an
+extraordinary figure on a large black horse, a large man in magnificent
+uniform, with a great plume in his hat. He was nearer to them than any
+other Southern horseman, and he seemed to be indifferent to danger.
+
+“Look! look! There's Jeb Stuart!” exclaimed Dick. He had heard so
+much about the famous Stuart and his gorgeous uniform that he knew him
+instinctively, and, Warner and Pennington, as their eyes followed his
+pointing finger felt the same conviction.
+
+Three of the Northern riflemen fired at once at the conspicuous target,
+and Dick breathed a little sigh of relief when all their bullets missed.
+Then the brilliant figure turned to one side and was lost in the smoke.
+
+“Well,” said Pennington. “We've seen Stonewall Jackson and Jeb Stuart
+both in battle against us. I wonder who will come next.”
+
+“Lee is due,” said Warner, “but I doubt whether his men will let him
+expose himself in such a way. We'll have to slip under cover to get a
+chance of seeing him.”
+
+The hours went on, and the fight between rear guard and vanguard never
+ceased. That column of dust miles long was at the same distance in
+front, continuing in its slow course for the river, but the foes in
+contact were having plenty of dust showers of their own. Dick's throat
+and mouth burned with the dust and heat of the pitiless August day, and
+his bones ached with the tension and the long hours in the saddle. But
+his spirit was high. They were holding off the Southern cavalry and he
+felt that they would continue to do so.
+
+About noon he ate more cold food, and then rode on, while the sun blazed
+and blazed and the dust whirled in clouds like the “dust devils” of the
+desert, continually spitting forth bullets instead of sand. Late in
+the afternoon he heard the sound of many trumpets, and saw the Southern
+cavalry getting together in a great mass. A warning ran instantly
+among the Union troops and the horsemen in blue and one or two infantry
+regiments drew closer together.
+
+“They're going to charge in force,” said Colonel Winchester to Dick.
+“See, our rearguard has lost touch with our main army, leaving a side
+opening between. They see this chance and intend to make the most of
+it.”
+
+“But our men are willing and anxious to meet them,” said Dick. “You can
+see it in their faces.”
+
+He had made no mistake, as the fire in their rear deepened, and they
+saw the gathering squadrons of gray cavalry, a fierce anger seized the
+retreating Union rearguard. Those wasps had been buzzing and stinging
+them all day long and they had had enough of it. They could fight, and
+they would, if their officers would let them. Now it seemed that the
+officers were willing.
+
+A deep and menacing mutter of satisfaction ran along the whole line.
+They would show the Southerners what kind of men they were. Colonel
+Winchester drew his infantry regiment into a small wood which at that
+point skirted the road.
+
+“There is no doubt that we've found it at the right time,” said Warner.
+
+Both knew that the forest would protect the infantry from the fierce
+charges of the Southern cavalry, while proving no obstacle to the
+Northern defense. His own cavalry was gathering in the road ready to
+meet Jeb Stuart and his squadrons.
+
+The three boys sat on their horses within the covering of the trees,
+and watched eagerly, while the hostile forces massed for battle. The
+Southern cavalry was supported by infantry also on its flanks, and once
+again Dick caught sight of Jeb Stuart with his floating plume. But that
+time he was too far away for any of the Northern riflemen to reach him
+with a bullet, and as before he disappeared quickly in the clouds of
+dust and smoke which never ceased to float over both forces.
+
+“Look out! The charge!” suddenly exclaimed Colonel Winchester.
+
+They heard the thunder of the galloping horses, and also the flash of
+many rifles and carbines. Cavalry met cavalry but the men in gray reeled
+back, and as they retreated the Northern infantry in the wood sent a
+deadly fire into the flank of the attacking force. The Southern infantry
+replied, and a fierce battle raged along the road and through the woods.
+Dick heard once more the rattling of bullets on bark, and felt the twigs
+falling upon his face as they were shorn off by the missiles.
+
+“We hold the road and we'll hold it for a while,” exclaimed Colonel
+Winchester, exultation showing in his tone.
+
+“Why can't we hold it all the time?” Dick could not refrain from asking.
+
+“Because we are retreating and the Southerners are continually coming
+up, while our army wishes to go away.”
+
+Dick glanced through the trees and saw that great clouds of dust still
+were rolling toward the northwest. It must be almost at the Rappahannock
+now, and he began to appreciate what this desperate combat in the woods
+meant. They were holding back the Southern army, while their men could
+cross the river and reform behind it.
+
+The battle swayed back and forth, and it was most desperate between
+the cavalry. The bugles again and again called the gray horsemen to the
+charge, and although the blue infantry supported their own horsemen with
+a heavy rifle fire, and held the wood undaunted, the Northern rear
+guard was forced to give way at last before the pressure of numbers and
+attacks that would not cease.
+
+Their own bugles sounded the retreat and they began to retire slowly.
+
+“Do we run again?” exclaimed Pennington, a tear ploughing its way
+through the smoky grime on his cheek.
+
+“No, we don't run,” replied Warner calmly, “We're forced back, and the
+rebels will claim a victory but we haven't fought for nothing. Lee and
+Jackson will never get up in time to attack our army before it's over
+the river.”
+
+The regiment began its slow retreat. It had not suffered much, owing to
+the shelter of the forest, and, full of courage and resolution, it was a
+formidable support on the flank of the slowly retreating cavalry.
+
+The evening was now at hand. The sun was setting once more over the
+Virginia hills destined to be scarred so deeply by battle, but attack
+and defense went on. As night came the thudding of cannon added to the
+tumult, and then the three boys saw the Rappahannock, a deep and wide
+stream flowing between high banks crested with timber. Ahead of them
+Pope's army was crossing on the bridge and in boats, and masses
+of infantry supported by heavy batteries had turned to protect the
+crossing. The Southern vanguard could not assail such a powerful
+force, and before the night was over the whole Union army passed to the
+Northern side of the Rappahannock.
+
+Dick felt a mixture of chagrin and satisfaction as he crossed the river,
+chagrin that this great army should draw back, as McClellan's had been
+forced to draw back at the Seven Days, and satisfaction that they were
+safe for the time being and could prepare for a new start.
+
+But the feeling of exultation soon passed and gave way wholly to
+chagrin. They were retreating before an army not exceeding their own,
+in numbers, perhaps less. They had another great force, the Army of the
+Potomac, which should have been there, and then they could have bade
+defiance to Lee and Jackson. The North with its great numbers, its fine
+courage and its splendid patriotism should never be retreating. He felt
+once more as thousands of others felt that the hand on the reins was
+neither strong nor sure, and that the great trouble lay there. They
+ought not to be hiding behind a river. Lee and Jackson did not do it.
+Dick remembered that grim commander in the West, the silent Grant, and
+he did not believe he would be retreating.
+
+Long after darkness came the firing continued between skirmishers across
+the stream, but finally it, too, waned and Dick was permitted to throw
+himself upon the ground and sleep with the sleeping thousands. Warner
+and Pennington slept near him and not far away was the brave sergeant.
+Even he was overpowered by fatigue and he slept like one dead, never
+stirring.
+
+Dick was awakened next morning by the booming of cannon. He had become
+so much used to such sounds that he would have slept on had not the
+crashes been so irregular. He stood up, rubbed his eyes and then looked
+in the direction whence came the cannonade. He saw from the crest of a
+hill great numbers of Confederate troops on the other side of the river,
+the August sun glittering over thousands of bayonets and rifle barrels,
+and along the somber batteries of great guns. The firing, so far as he
+could determine, was merely to feel out or annoy the Northern army.
+
+It was a strange sight to Dick, one that is not looked upon often, two
+great armies gazing across a river at each other, and, sure to meet,
+sooner or later, in mortal combat. It was thrilling, awe-inspiring, but
+it made his heart miss a beat or two at the thought of the wounds and
+death to come, all the more terrible because those who fought together
+were of the same blood, and the same nation.
+
+Warner and Pennington joined him on the height where he stood, and they
+saw that in the early hours before dawn the Northern generals had not
+been idle. The whole army of Pope was massed along the left bank of
+the river and every high point was crowned with heavy batteries of
+artillery. There had been a long drought, and at some points the
+Rappahannock could be forded, but not in the face of such a defence as
+the North here offered.
+
+Colonel Winchester himself came a moment or two later and joined them as
+they gazed at the two armies and the river between. Both he and the boys
+used their glasses and they distinctly saw the Southern masses.
+
+“Will they try to cross, sir?” asked Dick of the colonel.
+
+“I don't think so, but if they do we ought to beat them back. Meanwhile,
+Dick, my boy, every day's delay is a fresh card in our hand. McClellan
+is landing his army at Aquia Creek, whence it can march in two days to
+a junction with us, when we would become overwhelming and irresistible.
+But I wish it didn't take so long to disembark an army!”
+
+The note of anxiety in his voice did not escape Dick. “You wish then to
+be sure of the junction between our two armies before Lee and Jackson
+strike?”
+
+“Yes, Dick. That is what is on my mind. The retreat of this army,
+although it may have caused us chagrin, was most opportune. It gave
+us two chances, when we had but one before. But, Dick, I'm afraid. I
+wouldn't say this to anybody but you and you must not repeat me. I wish
+I could divine what is in the mind of those two men, Lee and Jackson.
+They surely have a plan of some kind, but what is it?”
+
+“Have we any definite news from the other side, sir?”
+
+“Shepard came in this morning. But little ever escapes him, and he says
+that the whole Southern army is up. All their best leaders are there.
+Lee and Jackson and Longstreet and the Hills and Early and Lawton and
+the others. He says that they are all flushed with confidence in their
+own courage and fighting powers and the ability of their leaders. Oh,
+if only the Army of the Potomac would come! If we could only stave off
+battle long enough for it to reach us!”
+
+“Don't you think we could do it, sir? Couldn't General Pope retreat on
+Washington then, and, as they continued to follow us, we could turn and
+spring on them with both armies.”
+
+But Colonel Winchester shook his head.
+
+“It would never do,” he said. “All Europe, eager to see the Union
+split, would then help the Confederacy in every possible manner. The old
+monarchies would say that despite our superior numbers we're not able to
+maintain ourselves outside the defenses of Washington. And these things
+would injure us in ways that we cannot afford. Remember, Dick, my boy,
+that this republic is the hope of the world, and that we must save it.”
+
+“It will be done, sir,” said Dick, almost in the tone of a young
+prophet. “I know the spirit of the men. No matter how many defeats are
+inflicted upon us by our own brethren we'll triumph in the end.”
+
+“It's my own feeling, Dick. It cannot, it must not be any other way!”
+
+Dick remained upborne by a confidence in the future rather than in the
+present, and throughout the morning he remained with his comrades, under
+arms, but doing little, save to hear the fitful firing which ran along
+a front of several miles. But later in the day a heavy crash came from a
+ford further up the stream.
+
+Under cover of a great artillery fire Stuart's cavalry dashed into the
+ford, and drove off the infantry and a battery posted to defend it. Then
+they triumphantly placed heavy lines of pickets about the ford on the
+Union side.
+
+It was more than the Union lads could stand. A heavy mass of infantry,
+Colonel Winchester's regiment in the very front of it, marched forward
+to drive back these impertinent horsemen. They charged with so much
+impetuosity that Stuart's cavalry abandoned such dangerous ground. All
+the pickets were drawn in and they retreated in haste across the stream,
+the water foaming up in spurts about them beneath the pursuing bullets.
+
+Then came a silence and a great looking back and forth. The threatening
+armies stared at each other across the water, but throughout the
+afternoon they lay idle. The pitiless August sun burned on and the dust
+that had been trodden up by the scores of thousands hung in clouds low,
+but almost motionless.
+
+Dick went down into a little creek, emptying into the Rappahannock, and
+bathed his face and hands. Hundreds of others were doing the same. The
+water brought a great relief. Then he went back to Colonel Winchester
+and his comrades, and waited patiently with them until evening.
+
+He remembered Colonel Winchester's words earlier in the day, and, as the
+darkness came, he began to wonder what Lee and Jackson were thinking. He
+believed that two such redoubtable commanders must have formed a plan by
+this time, and, perhaps in the end, it would be worth a hundred thousand
+men to know it. But he could only stare into the darkness and guess and
+guess. And one guess was as good as another.
+
+The night seemed portentous to him. It was full of sinister omens. He
+strove to pierce the darkness on the other shore with his eyes, and see
+what was going on there, but he distinguished only a black background
+and the dim light of fires.
+
+Dick was not wrong. The Confederate commanders did have a plan and the
+omens which seemed sinister to him were sinister in fact. Jackson with
+his forces was marching up his side of the Rappahannock and the great
+brain under the old slouch hat was working hard.
+
+When Lee and Jackson found that the Union army on the Rapidan
+had slipped away from them they felt that they had wasted a great
+opportunity to strike the retreating force before it reached the
+Rappahannock, and that, as they followed, the situation of the
+Confederacy would become most critical. They would leave McClellan and
+the Army of the Potomac nearer to Richmond, their own capital, than they
+were. Nevertheless Lee, full of daring despite his years, followed, and
+the dangers were growing thicker every hour around Pope.
+
+Dick, with his regiment, moved the next morning up the river. The enemy
+was in plain view beyond the stream, and Shepard and the other spies
+reported that the Southern army showed no signs of retiring. But Shepard
+had said also that he would not be able to cross the river again. The
+hostile scouts and sharpshooters had become too vigilant. Yet he was
+sure that Lee and Jackson would attempt to force a passage higher up,
+where the drought had made good fords.
+
+“It's well that we're showing vigilance,” said Colonel Winchester to
+Dick. He had fallen into the habit of talking much and confidentially to
+the boy, because he liked and trusted him, and for another reason which
+to Dick was yet in the background.
+
+“Do you feel sure that the rebels will attempt the crossing?” asked
+Dick.
+
+“Beyond a doubt. They have every reason to strike before the Army of the
+Potomac can come. Besides, it is in accord with the character of their
+generals. Both Lee and Jackson are always for the swift offensive, and
+Early, Longstreet and the Hills are the same way. Hear that booming
+ahead! They're attacking one of the fords now!”
+
+At a ford a mile above and also at another a mile or two further on, the
+Southern troops had begun a heavy fire, and gathered in strong masses
+were threatening every moment to attempt the passage. But the Union
+guns posted on hills made a vigorous reply and the time passed in heavy
+cannonades. Colonel Winchester, his brows knitted and anxious, watched
+the fire of the cannon. He confided at last to his favorite aide his
+belief that what lay behind the cannonade was more important than the
+cannonade itself.
+
+“It must be a feint or a blind,” he said. “They fire a great deal,
+but they don't make any dash for the stream. Now, the rebels haven't
+ammunition to waste.”
+
+“Then what do you think they're up to, sir?”
+
+“They must be sending a heavy force higher up the river to cross where
+there is no resistance. And we must meet them there, with my regiment
+only, if we can obtain no other men.”
+
+The colonel obtained leave to go up the Rappahannock until nightfall,
+but only his own regiment, now reduced to less than four hundred men,
+was allotted to him. In truth his division commander thought his purpose
+useless, but yielded to the insistence of Winchester who was known to
+be an officer of great merit. It seemed to the Union generals that they
+must defend the fords where the Southern army lay massed before them.
+
+Dick learned that there was a little place called Sulphur Springs some
+miles ahead, and that the river there was spanned by a bridge which
+the Union cavalry had wrecked the day before. He divined at once that
+Colonel Winchester had that ford in mind, and he was glad to be with him
+on the march to it.
+
+They left behind them the sound of the cannonade which they learned
+afterward was being carried on by Longstreet, and followed the course of
+the stream as fast as they could over the hills and through the woods.
+But with so many obstacles they made slow progress, and, in the close
+heat, the men soon grew breathless. It was also late in the afternoon
+and Dick was quite sure that they would not reach Sulphur Springs before
+nightfall.
+
+“I've felt exactly this same air on the great plains,” said Pennington,
+as they stopped on the crest of a hill for the troops to rest a little.
+“It's heavy and close as if it were being all crowded together. It makes
+your lungs work twice as hard as usual, and it's also a sign.”
+
+“Tell your sign, old weather sharp,” said Warner.
+
+“It's simple enough. The sign may not be so strong here, but it applies
+just as it does on the great plains. It means that a storm is coming.
+Anybody could tell that. Look there, in the southwest. See that cloud
+edging itself over the horizon. Things will turn loose to-night. Don't
+you say the same, sergeant? You've been out in my country.”
+
+Sergeant Whitley was standing near them regarding the cloud attentively.
+
+“Yes, Mr. Pennington,” he replied. “I was out there a long time and I'd
+rather be there now fighting the Indians, instead of fighting our own
+people, although no other choice was left me. I've seen some terrible
+hurricanes on the plains, winds that would cut the earth as if it was
+done with a ploughshare, and these armies are going to be rained on
+mighty hard to-night.”
+
+Dick smiled a little at the sergeant's solemn tone, and formal words,
+but he saw that he was very much in earnest. Nor was he one to underrate
+weather effects upon movements in war.
+
+“What will it mean to the two armies, sergeant?” he asked.
+
+“Depends upon what happens before she busts. If a rebel force is then
+across it's bad for us, but if it ain't the more water between us an'
+them the better. This, I take it, is the end of the drought, and a flood
+will come tumbling down from the mountains.”
+
+The sun now darkened and the clouds gathered heavily on the Western
+horizon. Colonel Winchester's anxiety increased fast. It became evident
+that the regiment could not reach Sulphur Springs until far into
+the night, and, still full of alarms, he resolved to take a small
+detachment, chiefly of his staff, and ride forward at the utmost speed.
+
+He chose about twenty men, including Dick, Warner, Pennington, Sergeant
+Whitley, and another veteran who were mounted on the horses of junior
+officers left behind, and pressed forward with speed. A West Virginian
+named Shattuck knew something of the country, and led them.
+
+“What is this place, Sulphur Springs?” asked Colonel Winchester of
+Shattuck.
+
+“Some big sulphur springs spout out of the bank and run down to the
+river. They are fine and healthy to drink an' there's a lot of cottages
+built up by people who come there to stay a while. But I guess them
+people have gone away. It ain't no place for health just at this time.”
+
+“That's a certainty,” said Colonel Winchester.
+
+“An' then there's the bridge, which, as we know, the cavalry has broke
+down.”
+
+“Fortunately. But can't we go a little faster, boys?”
+
+There was a well defined road and Shattuck now led them at a gallop.
+As they approached the springs they checked their speed, owing to the
+increasing darkness. But Dick's good ears soon told him that something
+was happening at the springs. He heard faintly the sound of voices, and
+the clank and rattle which many men with weapons cannot keep from making
+now and then.
+
+“I'm afraid, sir,” he said to Colonel Winchester, “that they're already
+across.”
+
+The little troop stopped at the command of its leader and all listened
+intently. It was very dark now and the wood was moaning, but the columns
+of air came directly from the wood, bearing clearly upon their crest the
+noises made by regiments.
+
+“You're right, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester, bitter mortification
+showing in his tone. “They're there, and they're on our side of the
+river. Oh, we might have known it! They say that Stonewall Jackson
+never sleeps, and they make no mistake, when they call his infantry foot
+cavalry!”
+
+Dick was silent. He shared his leader's intense disappointment, but he
+knew that it was not for him to speak at this moment.
+
+“Mr. Shattuck,” said Colonel Winchester, “how near do you think we can
+approach without being seen?”
+
+“I know a neck of woods leading within a hundred yards of the cottages.
+If we was to leave our horses here with a couple of men we could slip
+down among the trees and bushes, and there ain't one chance in ten that
+we'd be seen on so dark a night.”
+
+“Then you lead us. Pawley, you and Woodfall hold the horses. Now follow
+softly, lads! All of you have hunted the 'coon and 'possum at night, and
+you should know how to step without making noise.”
+
+Shattuck advanced with certainty, and the others, true to their
+training, came behind him in single file, and without noise. But as they
+advanced the sounds of an army ahead of them increased, and when they
+reached the edge of the covert they saw a great Confederate division
+on their side of the stream, in full possession of the cottages and
+occupying all the ground about them. Many men were at work, restoring
+the wrecked bridge, but the others were eating their suppers or were at
+rest.
+
+“There must be seven or eight thousand men here,” said Dick, who did not
+miss the full significance of the fact.
+
+“So it seems,” said Warner, “and I'm afraid it bodes ill for General
+Pope.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. SPRINGING THE TRAP
+
+
+Lying close in the bushes the little party watched the Southerners
+making themselves ready for the night. The cottages were prepared for
+the higher officers, but the men stacked arms in the open ground all
+about. As well as they could judge by the light of the low fires,
+soldiers were still crossing the river to strengthen the force already
+on the Union side.
+
+Colonel Winchester suppressed a groan. Dick noticed that his face was
+pallid in the uncertain shadows, and he understood the agony of spirit
+that the brave man must suffer when he saw that they had been outflanked
+by their enemy.
+
+Sergeant Whitley, moving forward a little, touched the colonel on the
+arm.
+
+“All the clouds that we saw a little further back,” he said, “have
+gathered together, an' the storm is about to bust. See, sir, how fast
+the Johnnies are spreadin' their tents an' runnin' to shelter.”
+
+“It's so, sergeant,” said Colonel Winchester. “I was so much absorbed in
+watching those men that I thank you for reminding me. We've seen enough
+anyway and we'd better get back as fast as we can.”
+
+They hurried through the trees and bushes toward their horses, taking
+no particular pains now to deaden their footsteps, since the Southerners
+themselves were making a good deal of noise as they took refuge.
+
+But the storm was upon them before they could reach their horses. The
+last star was gone and the somber clouds covered the whole heavens. The
+wind ceased to moan and the air was heavy with apprehension. Deep and
+sullen thunder began to mutter on the southwestern horizon. Then came
+a mighty crash and a great blaze of lightning seemed to cleave the sky
+straight down the center.
+
+The lightning and thunder made Dick jump, and for a few moments he
+was blinded by the electric glare. He heard a heavy sound of something
+falling, and exclaimed:
+
+“Are any of you hurt?”
+
+“No,” said Warner, who alone heard him, “but we're scared half to
+death. When a drought breaks up I wish it wouldn't break up with such a
+terrible fuss. Listen to that thunder again, won't you!”
+
+There was another terrible crash of thunder and the whole sky blazed
+with lightning. Despite himself Dick shrank again. The first bolt had
+struck a tree which had fallen within thirty feet of them, but the
+second left this bit of the woods unscathed.
+
+A third and a fourth bolt struck somewhere, and then came the rush and
+roar of the rain, driven on by a fierce wind out of the southwest. The
+close, dense heat was swept away, and the first blasts of the rain were
+as cold as ice. The little party was drenched in an instant, and every
+one was shivering through and through with combined wet and cold.
+
+The cessation of the lightning was succeeded by pitchy darkness, and the
+roaring of the wind and rain was so great that they called loudly to one
+another lest they lose touch in the blackness. Dick heard Warner on his
+right, and he followed the sound of his voice. But before he went much
+further his foot struck a trailing vine, and he fell so hard, his head
+striking the trunk of a tree, that he lay unconscious.
+
+The cold rain drove so fiercely on the fallen boy's face and body that
+he revived in two or three minutes, and stood up. He clapped his hand to
+the left side of his head, and felt there a big bump and a sharp ache.
+His weapons were still in his belt and he knew that his injuries were
+not serious, but he heard nothing save the drive and roar of the wind
+and rain. There was no calling of voices and no beat of footsteps.
+
+He divined at once that his comrades, wholly unaware of his fall, when
+no one could either see or hear it, had gone on without missing him.
+They might also mount their horses and gallop away wholly ignorant that
+he was not among them.
+
+Although he was a little dazed, Dick had a good idea of direction and
+he plunged through the mud which was now growing deep toward the little
+ravine in which they had hitched their horses. All were gone, including
+his own mount, and he had no doubt that the horse had broken or slipped
+the bridle in the darkness and followed the others.
+
+He stood a while behind the trunk of a great tree, trying to shelter
+himself a little from the rain, and listened. But he could hear neither
+his friends leaving nor any foes approaching. The storm was of uncommon
+fury. He had never seen one fiercer, and knowing that he had little to
+dread from the Southerners while it raged he knew also that he must make
+his way on foot, and as best he could, to his own people.
+
+Making a calculation of the direction and remembering that one might
+wander in a curve in the darkness, he set off down the stream. He meant
+to keep close to the banks of the Rappahannock, and if he persisted he
+would surely come in time to Pope's army. The rain did not abate. Both
+armies were flooded that night, but they could find some measure of
+protection. To the scouts and skirmishers and to Dick, wandering through
+the forest, nature was an unmitigated foe.
+
+But nothing could stop the boy. He was resolved to get back to the army
+with the news that a heavy Southern force was across the Rappahannock.
+Others might get there first with the fact, but one never knew. A
+hundred might fall by the wayside, leaving it to him alone to bear the
+message.
+
+He stumbled on. He was able to keep his cartridges dry in his pouch, but
+that was all. His wet, cold clothes flapped around him and he shivered
+to the bone. He could see only the loom of the black forest before him,
+and sometimes he slipped to the waist in swollen brooks. Then the wind
+shifted and drove the sheets of rain, sprinkled with hail, directly in
+his face. He was compelled to stop a while and take refuge behind a big
+oak. While he shivered in the shelter of the tree the only things that
+he thought of spontaneously were dry clothes, hot food, a fire and a
+warm bed. The Union and its fate, gigantic as they were, slipped away
+from his mind, and it took an effort of the will to bring them back.
+
+But his will made the effort, and recalling his mission he struggled
+on again. He had the river on his right, and it now became an unfailing
+guide. It had probably been raining much earlier in the mountains along
+the headwaters and the flood was already pouring down. The river swished
+high against its banks and once or twice, when he caught dim glimpses
+of it through the trees, he saw a yellow torrent bearing much brushwood
+upon its bosom.
+
+He had very little idea of his progress. It was impossible to judge of
+pace under such circumstances. The army might be ten miles further on
+or it might be only two. Then he found himself sliding down a muddy and
+slippery bank. He grasped at weeds and bushes, but they slipped through
+his hands. Then he shot into a creek, swollen by the flood, and went
+over his head.
+
+He came up, gasping, struck out and reached the further shore. Here he
+found bushes more friendly than the others and pulled himself upon the
+bank. But he had lost everything. His belt had broken in his struggles,
+and pistols, small sword and ammunition were gone. He would be helpless
+against an enemy. Then he laughed at the idea. Surely enemies would not
+be in search of him at such a time and such a place.
+
+Nevertheless when he saw an open space in front of him he paused at
+its edge. He could see well enough here to notice a file of dim figures
+riding slowly by. At first his heart leaped up with the belief that they
+were Colonel Winchester and his own people, but they were going in the
+wrong direction, and then he was able to discern the bedraggled and
+faded Confederate gray.
+
+The horsemen were about fifty in number and most of them rode with the
+reins hanging loose on their horses' necks. They were wrapped in cloaks,
+but cloaks and uniforms alike were sodden. A stream of water ran from
+every stirrup to the ground.
+
+Dick looked at them attentively. Near the head of the column but on
+one side rode a soldierly figure, apparently that of a young man of
+twenty-three or four. Just behind came three youths, and Dick's heart
+fairly leaped when he saw the last of the three. He could not mistake
+the figure, and a turning of the head caused him to catch a faint
+glimpse of the face. Then he knew beyond all shadow of doubt. It was
+Harry and he surmised that the other two were his comrades, St. Clair
+and Langdon, whom he had met when they were burying the dead.
+
+Dick was so sodden and cold and wretched that he was tempted to call out
+to them--the sight of Harry was like a light in the darkness--but the
+temptation was gone in an instant. His way lay in another direction.
+What they wished he did not wish, and while they fought for the triumph
+of the South it was his business to endure and struggle on that he might
+do his own little part for the Union.
+
+But despite the storm and his sufferings, he drew courage from nature
+itself. While a portion of the Southern army was across it must be a
+minor portion, and certainly the major part could not span such a flood
+and attack. The storm and time allied were now fighting for Pope.
+
+He wandered away a little into the open fields in order to find easier
+going, but he came back presently to the forest lining the bank of the
+river, for fear he should lose his direction. The yellow torrent of the
+Rappahannock was now his only sure guide and he stuck to it. He wondered
+why the rain and wind did not die down. It was not usual for a storm so
+furious to last so long, but he could not see any abatement of either.
+
+He became conscious after a while of a growing weakness, but he had
+recalled all the powers of his will and it was triumphant over his body.
+He trudged on on feet that were unconscious of sensation, and his face
+as if the flesh were paralyzed no longer felt the beat of the rain.
+
+A mile or two further and in the swish of the storm he heard hoofbeats
+again. Looking forth from the bushes he saw another line of horsemen,
+but now they were going in the direction of Pope's army. Dick recognized
+these figures. Shapeless as he might appear on his horse that was
+Colonel Winchester, and there were the broad shoulders of Sergeant
+Whitley and the figures of the others.
+
+He rushed through the dripping forest and shouted in a tone that
+could be heard above the shriek of wind and rain. Colonel Winchester
+recognized the voice, but the light was so dim that he did not recognize
+him from whom it came. Certainly the figure that emerged from the forest
+did not look human.
+
+“Colonel,” cried Dick, “it is I, Richard Mason, whom you left behind!”
+
+“So it is,” said Sergeant Whitley, keener of eye than the others.
+
+The whole troop set up a shout as Dick came forward, taking off his
+dripping cap.
+
+“Why, Dick, it is you!” exclaimed Colonel Winchester in a tone of
+immeasurable relief. “We missed you and your horse and hoped that you
+were somewhere ahead. Your horse must have broken loose in the storm.
+But here, you look as if you were nearly dead! Jump up behind me!”
+
+Dick made an effort, but his strength failed and he slipped back to
+the ground. He had not realized that he was walking on his spirit and
+courage and that his strength was gone, so powerful had been the buffets
+of the wind and rain.
+
+The colonel reached down, gave him a hand and a strong pull, and with
+a second effort Dick landed astride the horse behind the rider. Then
+Colonel Winchester gave the word and the sodden file wound on again.
+
+“Dick,” said the colonel, looking back over his shoulder, “you come as
+near being a wreck as anything that I've seen in a long time. It's lucky
+we found you.”
+
+“It is, sir, and I not only look like a wreck but I feel like one. But
+I had made up my mind to reach General Pope's camp, with the news of the
+Confederates crossing, and I think I'd have done it.”
+
+“I know you would. But what a night! What a night! Not many men can be
+abroad at such a time. We have seen nothing.”
+
+“But I have, sir.”
+
+“You have! What did you see?”
+
+“A mile or two back I passed a line of Southern horsemen, just as wet
+and bedraggled as ours.”
+
+“Might they not have been our own men? It would be hard to tell blue and
+gray apart on such a night.”
+
+“One could make such a mistake, but in this case it was not possible.
+I saw my own cousin, Harry Kenton, riding with them. I recognized them
+perfectly.”
+
+“Then that settles it. The Confederate scouts and cavalry are abroad
+to-night also, and on our side of the river. But they must be few who
+dare to ride in such a storm.”
+
+“That's surely true, sir.”
+
+But both Dick and his commanding officer were mistaken. They still
+underrated the daring and resolution of the Confederate leaders,
+the extraordinary group of men who were the very bloom and flower of
+Virginia's military glory, the equal of whom--two at least being in the
+very first rank in the world's history--no other country with so small a
+population has produced in so short a time.
+
+Earlier in the day Stuart, full of enterprise, and almost insensible to
+fatigue, had crossed the Rappahannock much higher up and at the head
+of a formidable body of his horsemen, unseen by scouts and spies, was
+riding around the Union right. They galloped into Warrenton where the
+people, red hot as usual for the South, crowded around them cheering and
+laughing and many of the women crying with joy. It was like Jackson and
+Stuart to drop from the clouds this way and to tell them, although the
+land had been occupied by the enemy, that their brave soldiers would
+come in time.
+
+News, where a Northern force could not have obtained a word, was poured
+out for the South. They told Stuart that none of the Northern cavalry
+was about, and that Pope's vast supply train was gathered at a little
+point only ten miles to the southeast. Stuart shook his plumed head
+until his long golden hair flew about his neck. Then he laughed aloud
+and calling to his equally fiery young officers, told them of the great
+spoil that waited upon quickness and daring.
+
+The whole force galloped away for the supply train, but before it
+reached it the storm fell in all its violence upon Stuart and his men.
+Despite rain and darkness Stuart pushed on. He said afterward that it
+was the darkest night he had ever seen. A captured negro guided them on
+the final stage of the gallop and just when Dick was riding back to
+camp behind Colonel Winchester, Stuart fell like a thunderbolt upon the
+supply train and its guard.
+
+Stuart could not drive wholly away the Northern guard, which though
+surprised, fought with great courage, but he burned the supply train,
+then galloped off with prisoners, and Pope's own uniform, horses,
+treasure chest and dispatch book. He found in the dispatch book minute
+information about the movements of all the Union troops, and Pope's
+belief that he ought to retreat from the river on Washington. Doubtless
+the Confederate horseman shook his head again and again and laughed
+aloud, when he put this book, more precious than jewels, inside his gold
+braided tunic, to be taken to Lee and Jackson.
+
+But these things were all hidden from the little group of weary men
+who rode into Pope's camp. Colonel Winchester carried the news of the
+crossing--Early had made it--to the commander, and the rest sought the
+best shelter to be found. Dick was lucky enough to be taken into a tent
+that was thoroughly dry, and the sergeant who had followed him managed
+to obtain a supply of dry clothing which would be ready for him when he
+awoke.
+
+Dick did not revive as usual. He threw all of his clothing aside and
+water flew where it fell, put on dry undergarments and crept between
+warm blankets. Nevertheless he still felt cold, and he was amazed at his
+own lack of interest in everything. He might have perished out there in
+the stream, but what did it matter? He would probably be killed in some
+battle anyway. Besides, their information about the crossing of the
+rebels was of no importance either. The rebels might stay on their side
+of the Rappahannock, or they might go back. It was all the same either
+way. All things seemed, for the moment, useless to him.
+
+He began to shiver, but after a while he became so hot that he wanted to
+throw off all the cover. But he retained enough knowledge and will
+not to do so, and he sank soon into a feverish doze from which he was
+awakened by the light of a lantern shining in his face.
+
+He saw Colonel Winchester and another man, a stranger, who held a small
+leather case in his hand. But Dick was in such a dull and apathetic
+state that he had no curiosity about them and he shut his eyes to keep
+out the light of the lantern.
+
+“What is it, doctor?” he heard Colonel Winchester asking.
+
+“Chill and a little fever, brought on by exposure and exhaustion. But
+he's a hardy youth. Look what a chest and shoulders! With the aid of
+these little white pills of mine he'll be all right in the morning.
+Colonel, Napoleon said that an army fights on its stomach, which I
+suppose is true, but in our heavily watered and but partly settled
+country, it must fight sometimes on a stomach charged with quinine.”
+
+“I was afraid it might be worse. A dose or two then will bring him
+around?”
+
+“Wish I could be so sure of a quick cure in every case. Here, my lad,
+take two of these. A big start is often a good one.”
+
+Dick raised his head obediently and took the two quinine pills. Soon he
+sank into a condition which was as near stupor as sleep. But before he
+passed into unconsciousness he heard the doctor say:
+
+“Wake him soon enough in the morning, Colonel, to take two more. What a
+wonderful thing for our armies that we can get all the quinine we want!
+The rebel supply, I know, is exhausted. With General Quinine on our side
+we're bound to win.”
+
+“But that isn't the only reason, doctor. Now--” Their voices trailed
+away as Dick sank into oblivion. He had a dim memory of being awakened
+the next morning and of swallowing two more pills, but in a minute or
+two he sank back into a sleep which was neither feverish nor troubled.
+When he awoke the dark had come a second time. The fever was wholly
+gone, and his head had ceased to ache.
+
+Dick felt weak, but angry at himself for having broken down at such
+a time, he sat up and began to put on the dry uniform that lay in the
+tent. Then he was astonished to find how great his weakness really was,
+but he persevered, and as he slipped on the tunic Warner came into the
+tent.
+
+“You've been asleep a long time,” he said, looking at Dick critically.
+
+“I know it. I suppose I slept all through the night as well as the day.”
+
+“And the great battle was fought without you.”
+
+Dick started, and looked at his comrade, but Warner's eyes were
+twinkling.
+
+“There's been no battle, and you know it,” Dick said.
+
+“No, there hasn't been any; there won't be any for several days at
+least. That whopping big rain last night did us a service after all. It
+was Early who crossed the river, and now he is in a way cut off from the
+rest of the Southern army. We hear that he'll go back to the other side.
+But Stuart has curved about us, raided our supply train and destroyed
+it. And he's done more than that. He's captured General Pope's important
+papers.”
+
+“What does it mean for us?”
+
+“A delay, but I don't know anything more. I suppose that whatever is
+going to happen will happen in its own good time. You feel like a man
+again, don't you Dick? And you can have the consolation of knowing that
+nothing has happened all day long when you slept.”
+
+Dick finished his dressing, rejoined his regiment and ate supper with
+the other officers around a fine camp fire. He found that he had a good
+appetite, and as he ate strength flowed rapidly back into his veins. He
+gathered from the talk of the older officers that they were still hoping
+for a junction with McClellan before Lee and Jackson could attack. They
+expected at the very least to have one hundred and fifty thousand men in
+line, most of them veterans.
+
+But Dick saw Shepard again that evening. He had come from a long journey
+and he reported great activity in the Southern camp. When Dick said
+that Lee and Jackson would have to fight both Pope and McClellan the spy
+merely replied:
+
+“Yes, if Pope and McClellan hurry.”
+
+But Dick learned that night that Pope was not discouraged. He had an
+army full of fighting power, and eager to meet its enemy. He began the
+next day to move up the river in order that he might face Lee's whole
+force as it attempted to cross at the upper fords. Their spirits
+increased as they learned that Early, through fear of being cut off, was
+going back to join the main Southern army.
+
+The ground had now dried up after the great storm, but the refreshed
+earth took on a greener tinge, and the air was full of sparkle and life.
+Dick had not seen such elasticity among the troops in a long time. As
+they marched they spoke confidently of victory. One regiment took up a
+song which had appeared in print just after the fall of Sumter:
+
+
+          “Men of the North and West,
+              Wake in your might.
+           Prepare as the rebels have done
+              For the fight.
+           You cannot shrink from the test;
+           Rise!  Men of the North and West.”
+
+
+Another regiment took up the song, and soon many thousands were singing
+it; those who did not know the words following the others. Dick felt
+his heart beat and his courage mount high, as he sang with Warner and
+Pennington the last verse:
+
+
+          “Not with words; they laugh them to scorn,
+              And tears they despise.
+           But with swords in your hands
+              And death in your eyes!
+           Strike home!  Leave to God all the rest;
+           Strike!  Men of the North and West!”
+
+
+The song sung by so many men rolled off across the fields, and the woods
+and the hills gave back the echo.
+
+“We will strike home!” exclaimed Dick, putting great emphasis on the
+“will.” “Our time for victory is at hand.”
+
+“The other side may think they're striking home; too,” said Warner,
+speaking according to the directness of his dry mathematical mind. “Then
+I suppose it will be a case of victory for the one that strikes the
+harder for home.”
+
+“That's a fine old mind of yours. Don't you ever feel any enthusiasm?”
+
+“I do, when the figures warrant it. But I must reckon everything with
+care before I permit myself to feel joy.”
+
+“I'm glad I'm not like you, Mr. Arithmetic, Mr. Algebra, Mr. Geometry
+and Mr. Trigonometry.”
+
+“You mustn't make fun of such serious matters, Dick. It would be a noble
+thing to be the greatest professor of mathematics in the world.”
+
+“Of course, George, but we wouldn't need him at this minute. But here
+we are back at those cottages in which I saw the Southern officers
+sheltering themselves. Well, they're ours again and I take it as a good
+omen.”
+
+“Yes, here we rest, as the French general said, but I don't know that I
+care about resting much more. I've had about all I want of it.”
+
+Nevertheless they spent the day quietly at the Sulphur Springs, and lay
+down in peace that night. But the storm cloud, the blackest storm cloud
+of the whole war so far, was gathering.
+
+Lee, knowing the danger of the junction between Pope and McClellan had
+resolved to hazard all on a single stroke. He would divide his army.
+Jackson, so well called “the striking arm,” would pass far around
+through the maze of hills and mountains and fall like a thunderbolt
+upon Pope's flank. At the sound of his guns Lee himself would attack in
+front.
+
+As Dick and his young comrades lay down to sleep this march, the
+greatest of Stonewall Jackson's famous turning movements, had begun
+already. Jackson was on his horse, Little Sorrel, his old slouch hat
+drawn down over his eyes, his head bent forward a little, and the great
+brain thinking, always thinking. His face was turned to the North.
+
+Just a little behind Jackson rode one of his most trusted aides, Harry
+Kenton, a mere youth in years, but already a veteran in service. Not
+far away was the gallant young Sherburne at the head of his troop of
+cavalry, and in the first brigade was the regiment of the Invincibles
+led by Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant Colonel Hector St.
+Hilaire. Never had the two colonels seemed more prim and precise, and
+not even in youth had the fire of battle ever burned more brightly in
+their bosoms.
+
+Jackson meant to pass around his enemy's right, crossing the Bull Run
+Mountain at Thoroughfare Gap, then strike the railway in Pope's rear.
+Longstreet, one of the heaviest hitters of the South, meanwhile was
+to worry Pope incessantly along the line of the Rappahannock, and when
+Jackson attacked they were to drive him toward the northeast and away
+from McClellan.
+
+The hot August night was one of the most momentous in American history,
+and the next few days were to see the Union in greater danger than it
+has ever stood either before or since. Perhaps it was not given to the
+actors in the drama to know it then, but the retrospect shows it now.
+The North had not attained its full fighting strength, and the genius of
+the two great Southern commanders was at the zenith, while behind them
+stood a group of generals, full of talent and fearless of death.
+
+Jackson had been directly before Sulphur Springs where Dick lay with the
+division to which he belonged. But Jackson, under cover of the darkness,
+had slipped away and the division of Longstreet had taken its place so
+quietly that the Union scouts and spies, including Shepard himself, did
+not know the difference.
+
+Jackson's army marched swiftly and silently, while that of Pope slept.
+The plan of Lee was complicated and delicate to the last degree, but
+Jackson, the mainspring in this organism, never doubted that he could
+carry it out. His division soon left the rest of the army far behind, as
+they marched steadily on over the hills, the fate of the nation almost
+in the hollow of their hands.
+
+The foot cavalry of Jackson were proud of their ability that night. They
+carried only three days' rations, expecting to feed off the enemy at
+the end of that time. Near midnight they lay down and slept a while,
+but long before dawn they were in line again marching over the hills and
+across the mountains. There were skirmishers in advance on either side,
+but they met no Union scouts. The march of Jackson's great fighting
+column was still unseen and unsuspected. A single Union scout or a
+message carried by a woman or child might destroy the whole plan, as a
+grain of dust stops all the wheels and levers of a watch, but neither
+the scout, the woman nor the child appeared.
+
+Toward dawn the marching Southerners heard far behind them the thunder
+of guns along the Rappahannock. They knew that Longstreet had opened
+with his batteries across the river, and that those of Pope were
+replying. The men looked at one another. There was a deep feeling of
+excitement and suspense among them. They did not know what all this
+marching meant, but they had learned to trust the man who led them. He
+had led them only to victory, and they did not doubt that he was doing
+so again.
+
+The march never paused for an instant. On they went, and the sound of
+the great guns behind them grew fainter and fainter until it faded away.
+Where were they going? Was it a raid on Washington? Were they to hurl
+themselves upon Pope's rear, or was there some new army that they were
+to destroy?
+
+Up swept the sun and the coolness left by the storm disappeared. The
+August day began to blaze again with fierce burning heat, but there was
+no complaint among Jackson's men. They knew now that they were on one of
+his great turning movements, on a far greater scale than any hitherto,
+and full of confidence, they followed in the wake of Little Sorrel.
+
+In the daylight now Jackson had scouts and skirmishers far in front and
+on either flank. They were to blaze the way for the army and they made
+a far out-flung line, through which no hostile scout could pass and
+see the marching army within. At the close of the day they were still
+marching, and when the sun was setting Jackson stood by the dusty
+roadside and watched his men as they passed. For the first time in that
+long march they broke through restraint and thundering cheers swept
+along the whole line as they took off their caps to the man whom they
+deemed at once their friend and a very god of war. The stern Jackson
+giving way so seldom to emotion was heard to say to himself:
+
+“Who can fail to win battles with such men as these?”
+
+Jackson's column did not stop until midnight. They had been more than
+twenty-four hours on the march, and they had not seen a hostile soldier.
+Harry Kenton himself did not know where they were going. But he lay down
+and gratefully, like the others, took the rest that was allowed to him.
+But a few hours only and they were marching again under a starry sky.
+Morning showed the forest lining the slopes of the mountains and then
+all the men seemed to realize suddenly which way they were going.
+
+This was the road that led to Pope. It was not Washington, or
+Winchester, or some unknown army, but their foe on the Rappahannock that
+they were going to strike. A deep murmur of joy ran through the ranks,
+and the men who had now been marching thirty hours, with but little
+rest, suddenly increased their speed. Knowledge had brought them new
+strength.
+
+They entered the forest and passed into Thoroughfare Gap, which leads
+through Bull Run Mountain. The files narrowed now and stretched out in a
+longer line. This was a deep gorge, pines and bushes lining the summits
+and crests. The confined air here was closer and hotter than ever, but
+the men pressed on with undiminished speed.
+
+Harry Kenton felt a certain awe as he rode behind Jackson, and looked
+up at the lofty cliffs that enclosed them. The pines along the summit on
+either side were like long, green ribbons, and he half feared to see
+men in blue appear there and open fire on those in the gorge below. But
+reason told him that there was no such danger. No Northern force could
+be on Bull Run Mountain.
+
+Harry had not asked a question during all that march. He had not
+known where they were going, but like all the soldiers he had supreme
+confidence in Jackson. He might be going to any of a number of places,
+but the place to which he was going was sure to be the right place.
+Now as he rode in the pass he knew that they were bound for the rear of
+Pope's army. Well, that would be bad for Pope! Harry had no doubt of it.
+
+They passed out of the gap, leaving the mountain behind them, and swept
+on through two little villages, and over the famous plateau of Manassas
+Junction which many of them had seen before in the fire and smoke of the
+war's first terrible day. Here were the fields and hills over which
+they had fought and won the victory. Harry recognized at once the places
+which had been burned so vividly into his memory, and he considered it a
+good omen.
+
+Not so far away was Washington, and so strongly was Harry's imagination
+impressed that he believed he could have seen through powerful glasses
+and from the crest of some tall hill that they passed, the dome of the
+Capitol shining in the August sun. He wondered why there was no attack,
+nor even any alarm. The cloud of dust that so many thousands of marching
+men made could be seen for miles. He did not know that Sherburne and the
+fastest of the rough riders were now far in front, seizing every Union
+scout or sentinel, and enabling Jackson's army to march on its great
+turning movement wholly unknown to any officer or soldier of the North.
+Soon he would stand squarely between Pope and Washington.
+
+Before noon, Stuart and his wild horsemen joined them and their spirits
+surged yet higher. All through the afternoon the march continued, and
+at night Jackson fell upon Pope's vast store of supplies, surprising and
+routing the guard. Taking what he could use he set fire to the rest and
+the vast conflagration filled the sky.
+
+Night came with Jackson standing directly in the rear of Pope. The trap
+had been shut down, and it was to be seen whether Pope was strong enough
+to break from it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE SECOND MANASSAS
+
+
+The sunbeams seemed fairly to dance over the dusty earth. The dust was
+not only over the earth, but over everything, men, animals, wagons and
+tents. Dick Mason who had struggled so hard through a storm but a few
+nights ago now longed for another like it. Anything to get away from
+this blinding blaze.
+
+But he soon forgot heat and dust. He was conscious of a great quiver
+and thrill running through the whole army. Something was happening.
+Something had happened, but nobody knew what. Warner and Pennington felt
+the same quiver and thrill, because they looked at him as if in inquiry.
+Colonel Winchester showed it, too. He said nothing, but gazed uneasily
+toward the Northern horizon. Dick found himself looking that way also.
+Along the Rappahannock there was but little firing now, and he began to
+forget the river which had loomed so large in the affairs of the armies.
+Perhaps the importance of the Rappahannock had passed.
+
+It was said that Pope himself with his staff had ridden away toward
+Washington, but Dick did not know. Far off toward the capital he
+saw dust clouds, but he concluded that they must be made by marching
+reinforcements.
+
+The long hot hours dragged and then came a messenger. It was Shepard who
+had reported to headquarters and who afterwards came over to the shade
+of a tree where Colonel Winchester and his little staff were gathered.
+He was on the verge of exhaustion. He was black under the eyes and the
+veins of his neck were distended. Dust covered him from head to foot.
+He threw himself on the ground and drank deeply from a canteen of cool
+water that Dick handed to him. All saw that Shepard, the spy, the man
+whose life was a continual danger, who had never before shown emotion,
+was in a state of excitement, and if they waited a little he would speak
+of his own accord.
+
+Shepard took the canteen from his lips, drew several long deep breaths
+of relief and said:
+
+“Do you know what I have seen?”
+
+“I don't, but I infer from your manner, Shepard, that it must be of
+great importance,” said Colonel Winchester.
+
+“I've seen Stonewall Jackson at the head of half of Lee's army behind
+us! Standing between us and Washington!”
+
+“What! Impossible! How could he get there?”
+
+“It's possible, because it's been done--I've seen the rebel army behind
+us. In these civilian clothes of mine, I've been in their ranks, and
+I've talked with their men. While they were amusing us here on the
+Rappahannock with their cannon, Jackson with the best of the army
+crossed the river higher up, passed through Thoroughfare Gap, marching
+two or three days before a soul of ours knew it, and then struck our
+great camp at Bristoe Station.”
+
+“Shepard, you must be sunstruck!”
+
+“My mind was never clearer. What I saw at close range General Pope
+himself saw at long range. He and his staff and a detachment came near
+enough to see the looting and burning of all our stores--I don't suppose
+so many were ever gathered together before. But I was right there. You
+ought to have seen the sight, Colonel, when those ragged rebels who
+had been living on green corn burst into our camp. I've heard about the
+Goths and Vandals coming down on Rome and it must have been something
+like it. They ate as I never saw anybody eat before, and then throwing
+away their rags they put on our new uniforms which were stored there in
+thousands. At least half the rebel army must now be wearing the Union
+blue. And the way they danced about and sang was enough to make a loyal
+man's heart sick.”
+
+“You told all this to General Pope?”
+
+“I did, sir, but I could not make him believe the half of it. He insists
+that it can only be a raiding detachment, that it is impossible for a
+great army to have come to such a place. But, sir, I was among them. I
+know Stonewall Jackson, and I saw him with my own eyes. He was there
+at the head of thirty thousand men, and we've already lost stores worth
+millions and millions. Jeb Stuart was there, too. I saw him. And I saw
+Munford, who leads Jackson's cavalry since the death of Turner Ashby.
+Oh, they'll find out soon enough that it's Jackson. We're trapped, sir!
+I tell you we're trapped, and our own commander-in-chief won't believe
+it. Good God, Colonel, the trap has shut down on us and if we get out of
+it we've got to be up and doing! This is no time for waiting!”
+
+Colonel Winchester saw from the rapidity and emphasis with which Shepard
+spoke that his excitement had increased, but knowing the man's great
+devotion to the Union he had no rebuke for his plain speech.
+
+“You have done splendid work, Mr. Shepard,” he said, “and the
+commander-in-chief will recognize what great risks you have run for
+the cause. I've no doubt that the accuracy of your reports will soon be
+proved.”
+
+Colonel Winchester in truth believed every word that Shepard had said,
+sinister though they were. He said that Jackson was behind them, that
+he had done the great destruction at Bristoe Station and he had not the
+slightest doubt that Jackson was there.
+
+Shepard flushing a little with gratification at Colonel Winchester's
+praise quickly recovered his customary self possession. Once more he was
+the iron-willed, self-contained man who daily dared everything for the
+cause he served.
+
+“Thank you, Colonel,” he said, “I've got to go out and get a little food
+now. All I say will be proved soon enough.”
+
+The three boys, like Colonel Winchester, did not doubt the truth of
+Shepard's news, and they looked northeast for the dust clouds which
+should mark the approach of Jackson.
+
+“We've been outmaneuvered,” said Warner to Dick, “but it's no reason why
+we should be outfought.”
+
+“No, George, it isn't. We've eighty thousand men as brave as any in the
+world, and, from what we hear they haven't as many. We ought to smash
+their old trap all to pieces.”
+
+“If our generals will only give us a chance.”
+
+Shepard's prediction that his news would soon prove true was verified
+almost at once. General Pope himself returned to his army and dispatch
+after dispatch arrived stating that Jackson and his whole force had been
+at Bristoe Station while the Union stores were burning.
+
+“Now is our chance,” said Dick to his comrades, “why doesn't the general
+move on Jackson at once, and destroy him before Lee can come to his
+help?”
+
+“I'm praying for it,” said Warner.
+
+“From what I hear it's going to be done,” said Pennington.
+
+Their hopes came true. Pope at once took the bold course, and marched on
+Jackson, but the elusive Stonewall was gone. They tramped about in
+the heat and dust in search of him. One portion of the army including
+Colonel Winchester's regiment turned off in the afternoon toward a place
+of a few houses called Warrenton. It lay over toward the Gap through
+which Jackson had gone and while the division ten thousand strong did
+not expect to find anything there it was nevertheless ordered to look.
+
+Dick rode by the side of his colonel ready for any command, but the
+mystery, and uncertainty had begun to weigh upon him again. It seemed
+when they had the first news that Jackson was behind them, that they had
+a splendid opportunity to turn upon him and annihilate him before Lee
+could come. But he was gone. They had looked upon the smoldering ruins
+of their great supply camp, but they had found there no trace of a
+Confederate soldier. Was Harry Kenton right, when he told them they
+could not beat Jackson? He asked himself angrily why the man would not
+stay and fight. He believed, too, that he must be off there somewhere to
+the right, and he listened eagerly but vainly for the distant throb of
+guns in the east.
+
+A cloud of dust hovered over the ten thousand as they marched on in the
+blazing sunshine. The country was well peopled, but all the inhabitants
+had disappeared save a few, and from not one of these could they obtain
+a scrap of information.
+
+Dick noticed through the dusty veil a heavy wood on their left extending
+for a long distance. Then as in a flash, he saw that the whole forest
+was filled with troops, and he saw also two batteries galloping from it
+toward the crest of a ridge. It occurred to him instantly that here was
+the army of Jackson, and others who saw had the same instinctive belief.
+
+There was a flash and roar from the batteries. Shot and shell cut
+through the clouds of dust and among the ranks of the men in blue. Now
+came from the forest a vast shout, the defiant rebel yell and nobody in
+the column doubted that Jackson was there. He had swung away toward the
+Gap, where Lee could come to him more readily, and he would fight the
+whole Union army until Lee came up.
+
+As the roar of the first discharge from the batteries was dying swarms
+of skirmishers sprang up from ambush and poured a storm of bullets upon
+the Union front and flanks. A cry as of anguish arose from the column
+and it reeled back, but the men, many of them hardy young farmers from
+the West, men of staunch stuff, were eager to get at the enemy and the
+terrible surprise could not daunt them. Uttering a tremendous shout they
+charged directly upon the Southern force.
+
+It was a case largely of vanguards, the main forces not yet having come
+up, but the two detachments charged into each other with a courage and
+fierceness that was astounding. In a minute the woods and fields were
+filled with fire and smoke, and hissing shells and bullets. Men fell by
+hundreds, but neither side yielded. The South could not drive away the
+North and the North could not hurl back the South.
+
+The field of battle became a terrible and deadly vortex. The fire of the
+opposing lines blazed in the faces of each other. Often they were
+only three or four score yards apart. Ewell, Jackson's ablest and most
+trusted lieutenant, fell wounded almost to death, and lay long upon the
+field. Other Southern generals fell also, and despite their superior
+numbers they could not drive back the North.
+
+Dick never had much recollection of the combat, save a reek of fire
+and smoke in which men fought. He saw Colonel Winchester's horse
+pitch forward on his head and springing from his own he pulled the
+half-stunned colonel to his feet. Both leaped aside just in time to
+avoid Dick's own falling horse, which had been slain by a shell. Then
+the colonel ran up and down the lines of his men, waving his sword and
+encouraging them to stand fast.
+
+The Southern lines spread out and endeavored to overlap the Union men,
+but they were held back by a deep railroad cut and masses of felled
+timber. The combat redoubled in fury. Cannon and rifles together made
+a continuous roar. Both sides seemed to have gone mad with the rage of
+battle.
+
+The Southern generals astonished at such a resistance by a smaller
+force, ordered up more men and cannon. The Union troops were slowly
+pushed back by the weight of numbers, but then the night, the coming
+of which neither had noticed, swept down suddenly upon them, leaving
+fifteen hundred men, nearly a third of those engaged, fallen upon the
+small area within which the two vanguards had fought.
+
+But the Union men did not retreat far. Practically, they were holding
+their ground, when the darkness put an end to the battle, and they were
+full of elation at having fought a draw with superior numbers of the
+formidable Jackson. Dick, although exultant, was so much exhausted that
+he threw himself upon the ground and panted for breath. When he was able
+to rise he looked for Warner and Pennington and found them uninjured.
+So was Sergeant Whitley, but the sergeant, contrary to his custom, was
+gloomy.
+
+“What's the matter, sergeant?” exclaimed Dick in surprise. “Didn't we
+give 'em a great fight?”
+
+“Splendid, Mr. Mason, I don't believe that troops ever fought better
+than ours did. But we're not many here. Where's all the rest of our
+army? Scattered, while I'm certain that Jackson with twenty-five or
+thirty thousand men is in front of us, with more coming. We'll fall
+back. We'll have to do it before morning.”
+
+The sergeant on this occasion had the power of divination. An hour
+after midnight the whole force which had fought with so much heroism
+was withdrawn. It was a strange night to the whole Union army, full of
+sinister omens.
+
+Pope, in his quest for Jackson, had heard about sunset the booming of
+guns in the west, but he could not believe that the Southern general
+was there. Many of his dispatches had been captured by the hard-riding
+cavalry of Stuart. His own division commanders had lost touch with him.
+It was not possible for him to know what to do until morning, and no
+one could tell him. Meanwhile Longstreet was advancing in the darkness
+through the Gap to reinforce Jackson.
+
+Dick had found another horse belonging to a slain owner, and, in the
+darkness, his heart full of bitterness, he rode back beside Colonel
+Winchester toward Manassas. Could they never win a big victory in the
+east? The men were brave and tenacious. They had proved it over and over
+again, but they were always mismanaged. It seemed to him that they were
+never sent to the right place at the right time.
+
+Nevertheless, many of the Northern generals, able and patriotic,
+achieved great deeds before the dawn of that momentous morning.
+Messengers were riding in the darkness in a zealous attempt to gather
+the forces together. There was yet abundant hope that they could crush
+Jackson before Lee came, and in the darkness brigade after brigade
+marched toward Warrenton.
+
+Dick, after tasting all the bitterness of retreat, felt his hopes rise
+again. They had not really been beaten. They had fought a superior force
+of Jackson's own men to a standstill. He could never forget that. He
+cherished it and rolled it under his tongue. It was an omen of what was
+to come. If they could only get leaders of the first rank they would
+soon end the war.
+
+He found himself laughing aloud in the anticipation of what Pope's Army
+of Virginia would do in the coming day to the rebels. It might even
+happen that McClellan with the Army of the Potomac would also come upon
+the field. And then! Lee and Jackson thought they had Pope in a trap!
+Pope and McClellan would have them between the hammer and the anvil, and
+they would be pounded to pieces!
+
+“Here, stop that foolishness, Dick! Quit, I say, quit it at once!”
+
+It was Warner who was speaking, and he gripped Dick's arm hard, while he
+peered anxiously into his face.
+
+“What's the matter with you?” he continued. “What do you find to laugh
+at? Besides, I don't like the way you laugh.”
+
+Dick shook himself, and then rubbed his hand across his brow.
+
+“Thanks, George,” he said. “I'm glad you called me back to myself. I was
+thinking what would happen to the enemy if McClellan and the Army of the
+Potomac came up also, and I was laughing over it.”
+
+“Well, the next time, don't you laugh at a thing until it happens. You
+may have to take your laugh back.”
+
+Dick shook himself again, and the nervous excitement passed.
+
+“You always give good advice, George,” he said. “Do you know where we
+are?”
+
+“I couldn't name the place, but we're not so far from Warrenton that we
+can't get back there in a short time and tackle Jackson again. Dick, see
+all those moving lights to right and left of us. They're the brigades
+coming up in the night. Isn't it a weird and tremendous scene? You and I
+and Pennington will see this night over and over again, many and many a
+time.”
+
+“It's so, George,” said Dick, “I feel the truth of what you say all
+through me. Listen to the rumble of the cannon wheels! I hear 'em on
+both sides of us, and behind us, and I've no doubt, too, that it's going
+on before us, where the Southerners are massing their batteries. How the
+lights move! It's the field of Manassas again, and we're going to win
+this time!”
+
+All of Dick's senses were excited once more, and everything he saw was
+vivid and highly colored. Warner, cool of blood as he habitually was,
+had no words of rebuke for him now, because he, too, was affected in the
+same way. The fields and plains of Manassas were alive not alone with
+marching armies, but the ghosts of those who had fallen there the year
+before rose and walked again.
+
+Despite the darkness everything swelled into life again for Dick. Off
+there was the little river of Manassas, Young's Branch, the railway
+station, and the Henry House, around which the battle had raged so
+fiercely. They would have won the victory then if it had not been for
+Stonewall Jackson. If he had not been there the war would have been
+ended on that sanguinary summer day.
+
+But Jackson was in front of them now, and they had him fast. Lee and
+Jackson had thought to trap Pope, but Jackson himself was in the
+trap, and they would destroy him utterly. His admiration for the great
+Southern general had changed for the time into consuming rage. They must
+overwhelm him, annihilate him, sweep him from the face of the earth.
+
+They mounted again and moved back, but did not go far.
+
+“Get down, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester. “Here's food for us, and hot
+coffee. I don't remember myself how long we've been in the saddle and
+how long we've been without food, but we mustn't go into battle until
+we've eaten.”
+
+Dick was the last of the officers to dismount. He, too, did not remember
+how long they had been in the saddle. He could not say at that moment,
+whether it had been one night or two. He ate and drank mechanically, but
+hungrily--the Union army nearly always had plenty of stores--and then he
+felt better and stronger.
+
+A faint bluish tint was appearing under the gray horizon in the east.
+Dick felt the touch of a light wind on his forehead. The dawn was
+coming.
+
+Yes, the dawn was coming, but it was coming heavy with sinister omens
+and the frown of battle. Before the bluish tint in the east had turned
+to silver Dick heard the faint and far thudding of great guns, and
+closer a heavy regular beat which he knew was the gallop of cavalry.
+Surely the North could not fail now. Fierce anger against those who
+would break up the Union surged up in him again.
+
+The gray came at last, driving the bluish tint away, and the sun rose
+hot and bright over the field of Manassas which already had been
+stained with the blood of one fierce battle. But now the armies were far
+greater. Nearly a hundred and fifty thousand men were gathering for the
+combat, and Dick was still hoping that McClellan would come with seventy
+or eighty thousand more. But within the Confederate lines, where they
+must always win and never lose, because losing meant to lose all there
+was a stern determination to shatter Pope and his superior numbers
+before McClellan could come. Never had the genius and resolution of the
+two great Southern leaders burned more brightly.
+
+As the brazen sun swung slowly up Dick felt that the intense nervous
+excitement he had felt the night before was seizing him again. The
+officers of the regiment remained on foot. Colonel Winchester had sent
+their horses away to some cavalrymen who had lost their own. He and his
+staff and other officers, dismounted, could lead the men better into
+battle.
+
+And that it was battle, great and bloody, the youngest of them all could
+see. Never had an August day been brighter and hotter. Every object
+seemed to swell into new size in the vivid and burning sunlight. Plain
+before them lay Jackson's army. Two of his regiments were between them
+and a turnpike that Dick remembered well. Off to the left ran the dark
+masses in gray, until they ended against a thick wood. In the center was
+a huge battery, and Dick from his position could see the mouths of the
+cannon waiting for them.
+
+But he also saw the great line of the Northern Army. It was both deeper
+and longer than that of the South, and he knew that the men were full of
+resolve and courage.
+
+“How many have we got here?” Dick heard himself asking Warner.
+
+“Forty or fifty thousand, I suppose,” he heard Warner replying, “and
+before night there will be eighty thousand. Our line is two miles long
+now. We ought to wrap around Jackson and crush him to death. Listen to
+the bugles! What a mellow note! And how they draw men on to death! And
+listen to the throbbing of the big cannon, too!”
+
+Warner's face was flushed. He had become excited, as the two armies
+stood there, and looked at each other a moment or two like prize
+fighters in the ring before closing in battle. Then they heard the order
+to charge and far up and down the line their own cannon opened with a
+crash so great that Dick and his comrades could not hear one another
+talking.
+
+Then they charged. The whole army lifted itself up and rushed at the
+enemy, animated by patriotism, the fire of battle and the desire for
+revenge. Among the officers were Milroy and Schenck and others who had
+been beaten by Jackson in the valley. There, too, was the brigade
+of Germans whom Jackson had beaten at Cross Keyes. Many of them were
+veterans of the sternest discipline known in Europe and they longed
+fiercely for revenge. And there were more Germans, too, under
+Schurz--hired Germans, fighting nearly a hundred years before to prevent
+the Union--and free Germans now fighting to save it.
+
+Driven forward thus by all the motives that sway men in battle, the
+Union army rushed upon Jackson. Confident from many victories and
+trusting absolutely in their leader the Southern defense received the
+mighty charge without flinching. The wood now swarmed with riflemen
+and they filled the air with their bullets, so many of them that their
+passage was like the continual rush of a hurricane. Along the whole line
+came the same metallic scream, and the great battery in the center was a
+volcano, pouring forth a fiery hurricane of shot and shell.
+
+Dick felt their front lines being shorn. Although he was untouched it
+was an actual physical sensation. He could see but little save that
+fearful blaze in their faces, and the cries of the wounded and dying
+were drowned by the awful roar of so many cannon and rifles.
+
+The cloud of dust and smoke had become immense and overwhelming in an
+instant, but it was pierced always in front by the blaze of fire, and
+by its flaming light Dick saw the long lines of the Southern men, their
+faces gray and fixed, as he knew those of his own comrades were.
+
+But the charge, brave, even reckless, failed. The brigades broke in vain
+on Jackson's iron front. Riddled by the fire of the great battery and of
+the riflemen they could not go on and live. The Germans had longed for
+revenge, but they did not get it. The South Carolinians fell upon them
+at the edge of the wood and hurled them back. They rallied, and charged
+again, but again they were handled terribly, and were forced back by the
+charging masses of the Southerners.
+
+Dick had been at Shiloh. He had seen the men of the west in a great
+battle, and now he saw the men of the east in a battle yet greater.
+There it had been largely in the forest, here it was mostly in the open,
+yet he saw but little more. One of the extraordinary features of this
+battle was dust. Trampled up from the dry fields by fighting men in
+scores of thousands it rose in vast floating clouds that permeated
+everything. It was even more persistent than the smoke. It clogged
+Dick's throat. It stung and burnt him like powder. Often it filled his
+eyes so completely that for a moment or two he could not see the blaze
+of the cannon and rifle fire, almost in his face.
+
+But as they fell back he felt again that sensation of actual physical
+pain, although he was still untouched. Added to it was an intense mental
+anguish. They were failing! They had been driven back! They had not
+crushed Jackson! He forgot all about Colonel Winchester, and his
+comrades Warner and Pennington. He forgot all about his own danger in
+this terrible reversal of his hopes, and he began to shout angrily at
+the men to stand. He did not know by and by that no sound came from his
+mouth, that words could not come from a throat so choked with dust and
+burned gunpowder.
+
+But the charge was made again. The thudding great guns now told all the
+Northern divisions where Jackson was. The eighty thousand men of Pope
+were crowding forward to attack him, and the batteries were galloping
+over the plateau to add to the volume of shot and shell that was poured
+upon the Southern ranks.
+
+Dick was quite unconscious of the passage of time. Hope had sprung anew
+in his breast. He heard a report that ten thousand fresh troops under
+Kearney had arrived and were attacking the Southerners in the wood.
+He knew by the immense volume of fire coming from that point that the
+report was true, and he heard that McDowell, too, would soon be at hand
+with nearly thirty thousand men.
+
+Then he saw Colonel Winchester, his face a mass of grime and his
+clothing flecked with blood. But he did not seem to have suffered any
+wound and he was calmly rallying his men.
+
+“It's hot!” Dick shouted, why he knew not.
+
+“Yes, my boy, and it will soon be hotter! Look at the new brigades
+coming into battle! See them on both right and left! We'll crush Jackson
+yet!”
+
+It was now mid-morning, and neither Colonel Winchester nor any other of
+the Northern officers facing the Southern force knew that Lee and the
+other Southern army was at hand. The front ranks of Longstreet were
+already in battle, and the most difficult and dangerous of all tasks was
+accomplished. Two armies coming from points widely divergent, but acting
+in concert had joined upon the field of battle at the very moment when
+the junction meant the most. Lee had come, but McClellan and the Army of
+the Potomac were far away.
+
+Dick heard the trumpets calling again, and once more they charged,
+hurling heavy masses now upon the wood, which was held by the Southern
+general, A. P. Hill. Rifle fire gave way to bayonet charges by either
+side, and after swaying back and forth the Union men held the wood for
+a while, but at last they were driven out to stay, and as they retreated
+cannon and rifles decimated their ranks.
+
+The regiment had suffered so terribly that after its retreat it was
+compelled to lie down a while and rest. Dick gasped for breath, but he
+was not as much excited as he had been earlier in the day. Perhaps one
+can become hardened to anything. Although he and his immediate comrades
+were resting he could see no diminution of the battle.
+
+As far to left and right as the eye reached, cannon and rifles blazed
+and thundered. In front of their own exhausted regiment hundreds of
+sharpshooters, creeping forward, were now pouring a deadly fire among
+the Southern troops who held the wood. They were men of the west and
+northwest, accustomed all their lives to the use of firearms, and if a
+Confederate officer in the forest showed himself for a moment it was at
+the risk of his life. Captains and lieutenants fell fast beneath the aim
+of the sharpshooters.
+
+The burning sun was at the zenith, pouring fiery rays upon the vast
+conflict which raged along a front of two miles. Pope himself was now
+upon the field and his troops were pouring from every point to his aid.
+So deadly was the fire of the sharpshooters that they regained the wood,
+driving out the Southerners who had exhausted their cartridges. Hill's
+division of the Confederates was almost cut to pieces by the cannon
+and rifles, and the Southern leaders from their posts on the hills saw
+brigades and regiments continually coming to the help of the North.
+
+Dick saw or rather felt the fortunes of the North rising again, and as
+his regiment stood up for action once more he began to shout with the
+others in triumph. The roar of the battle grew so steady that the voices
+of men became audible and articulate beneath it.
+
+“They shut their trap down upon us, but we're breaking that trap all to
+pieces,” he heard Pennington say.
+
+“Looks as if we might win a victory,” said the cooler Warner.
+
+Then he heard no more, as they were once again upon the enemy who
+received them almost hand to hand, and the battle swelled anew. It was
+now long past noon, and in that prodigious canopy of dust and fire and
+smoke it seemed for a while that the Union army in truth had shattered
+the trap. The men in gray were borne back by the courage and weight of
+their opponents. Hooker, Kearney, Reynolds and all the gallant generals
+of the North continually urged on their troops. Confidence in victory at
+last passed through all the army, and incited it to greater efforts.
+
+But Jackson was undaunted. Never was he cooler. Never did his genius
+shine more brilliantly. Never did any man in all the fury and turmoil
+of battle, amid a thousand conflicting reports and appalling confusion,
+have a keener perception, a greater power to sum up what was actually
+passing, and a better knowledge of what to do.
+
+Lee was a mile away, standing on a wooded hill, the bearded Longstreet
+by his side, watching the battle in his immediate front, where
+accumulating masses under Pope's own eye were gathering. On the other
+flank where Jackson stood and the conflict was heaviest he trusted all
+to his great lieutenant and not in vain.
+
+Jackson had formed his plan. There came for a few moments a lull in the
+battle which had now lasted nine hours, and then gathering a powerful
+reserve he sent them charging through the wood with the bayonet. Dick
+saw the massive line of glittering steel coming on at the double
+quick and he felt his regiment giving back. The men could not help it.
+Physically exhausted and with ammunition running low they slowly yielded
+the wood. Many of the youths wept with rage, but although they had lost
+thousands in five desperate charges they were compelled to see all five
+fail.
+
+Dick, aghast, gazed at Warner through the smoke.
+
+“It's true!” gasped Warner, “we didn't break the trap, Dick. But maybe
+they'll succeed off there to the left! Our own commander is there, and
+they say that Lee himself has come to the help of Jackson!”
+
+They had been driven back at all points and their own battle was dying,
+but off to the left it thundered a while longer, and then as night
+suddenly rushed over the field it, too, sank, leaving the hostile forces
+on that wing also still face to face, but with the North pushed back.
+
+The coming of night was as sudden to Dick as if it had been the abrupt
+dropping of a great dark blanket. In the fury of conflict he had not
+noticed the gathering shadows in the west. The dimness around him, if
+he had taken time to think about it, he would have ascribed to the vast
+columns of dust that eddied and surged about.
+
+Again it was the dust that he felt and remembered. The surging back and
+forth of seven score thousand men, the tread of horses and the wheels
+of hundreds of cannon raised it in such quantities that it covered the
+forest and the armies with a vast whitish curtain. Even in the darkness
+it showed dim and ghastly like a funeral veil.
+
+Out of that fatal forest came a dreadful moaning. Dick did not know
+whether it was the wind among the leaves or the dying. Once more the
+ghosts of the year before walked the fatal field, but the ghosts of this
+year would be a far greater company. They had not broken the trap and
+Dick knew that the battle was far from over.
+
+It would be renewed in the morning with greater fierceness than ever,
+but he was grateful for the present darkness and rest. He and his
+comrades had thrown themselves upon the ground, and they felt as if they
+could never move again. Their bones did not ache. They merely felt dead
+within them.
+
+Dick was roused after a long time. The camp cooks were bringing food
+and coffee. He saw a figure lying at his feet as still as death, and he
+shoved it with his foot.
+
+“Get up, Frank,” he said. “You're not dead.”
+
+“No, I'm not, but I'm as good as dead. You just let me finish dying in
+peace.”
+
+Dick shoved him again and Pennington sat up. When he saw the food and
+coffee he suddenly remembered to be hungry. Warner was already eating
+and drinking. Off to the left they still heard cannon and rifles,
+although the sound was sinking. Occasionally flashes from the mouths of
+the great guns illumined the darkness.
+
+Dick did not know what time it was. He had no idea how long he had
+been lying upon the ground panting, the air surcharged with menace and
+suspense. The vast clouds of dust, impregnated with burned gunpowder
+still floated about, and it scorched his mouth and throat as he breathed
+it.
+
+The boys, after eating and drinking lay down again. They still heard the
+firing of pickets, but it was no more than the buzzing of bees to them,
+and after a while they fell into the sleep of nervous and physical
+exhaustion. But while many of the soldiers slept all of the generals
+were awake.
+
+It was a singular fact but in the night that divided the great battle
+of the Second Manassas into two days both sides were full of confidence.
+Jackson's men, who had borne the brunt of the first day, rested upon
+their arms and awaited the dawn with implicit confidence in their
+leader. On the other flank Lee and Longstreet were massing their men for
+a fresh attack.
+
+The losses within the Union lines were replaced by reinforcements. Pope
+rode among them, sanguine, full of hope, telegraphing to Washington that
+the enemy had lost two to his one, and that Lee was retreating toward
+the mountains.
+
+Dick slept uneasily through the night, and rose to another hot August
+sun. Then the two armies looked at each other and it seemed that each
+was waiting for the other to begin, as the morning hours dragged on and
+only the skirmishers were busy. During this comparative peace, the heavy
+clouds of dust were not floating about, and Dick whose body had come to
+life again walked back and forth with his colonel, gazing through their
+glasses at the enemy. He scarcely noticed it, but Colonel Winchester's
+manner toward him had become paternal. The boy merely ascribed it to the
+friendly feeling an officer would feel for a faithful aide, but he knew
+that he had in his colonel one to whom he could speak both as a friend
+and a protector. Walking together they talked freely of the enemy who
+stood before them in such an imposing array.
+
+“Colonel,” said Dick, “do you think General Pope is correct in stating
+that one wing of the Southern army is already retreating through
+Thoroughfare Gap?”
+
+“I don't, Dick. I don't think it is even remotely probable. I'm quite
+sure, too, that we have the whole Confederate army in front of us. We'll
+have to beat both Lee and Jackson, if we can.”
+
+“Where do you think the main attack will be?”
+
+“On Jackson, who is still in front of us. But we have waited a long
+time. It must be full noon now.”
+
+“It is past noon, sir, but I hear the trumpets, calling up our men.”
+
+“They are calling to us, too.”
+
+The regiment shifted a little to the right, where a great column was
+forming for a direct attack upon the Confederate lines. Twenty thousand
+men stood in a vast line and forty thousand were behind them to march in
+support.
+
+Dick had thought that he would be insensible to emotions, but his heart
+began to throb again. The spectacle thrilled and awed him--the great
+army marching to the attack and the resolute army awaiting it. Soon he
+heard behind him the firing of the artillery which sent shot and shell
+over their heads at the enemy. A dozen cannon came into action, then
+twenty, fifty, a hundred and more, and the earth trembled with the
+mighty concussion.
+
+Dick felt the surge of triumph. They had yet met no answering fire.
+Perhaps General Pope and not Colonel Winchester had been right after
+all, and the Confederates were crushed. Awaiting them was only a rear
+guard which would flee at the first flash of the bayonets in the wood.
+
+The great line marched steadily onward, and the cannon thundered and
+roared over the heads of the men raking the wood with steel. Still
+no reply. Surely the sixty thousand Union men would now march over
+everything. They were driving in the swarms of skirmishers. Dick could
+see them retreating everywhere, in the wood over the hills and along an
+embankment.
+
+Warner was on his right and Pennington on his left. Dick glanced at them
+and he saw the belief in speedy victory expressed on the faces of both.
+It seemed to him, too, that nothing could now stop the massive
+columns that Pope was sending forward against the thinned ranks of the
+Confederates.
+
+They were much nearer and he saw gray lines along an embankment and in
+a wood. Then above the crash and thunder of their covering artillery he
+heard another sound. It was the Southern bugles calling with a piercing
+note to their own men just as the Northern trumpets had called.
+
+Dick saw a great gray multitude suddenly pour forward. It looked to him
+in the blur and the smoke like an avalanche, and in truth it was a human
+avalanche, a far greater force of the South than they expected to
+meet there. Directly in front of the Union column stood the Stonewall
+Brigade, and all the chosen veterans of Stonewall Jackson's army.
+
+“It's a fight, face to face,” Dick heard Colonel Winchester say.
+
+Then he saw a Union officer, whose name he did not know suddenly gallop
+out in front of the division, wave his saber over his head and shout
+the charge. A tremendous rolling cry came from the blue ranks and Dick
+physically felt the whole division leap forward and rush at the enemy.
+
+Dick saw the officer who had made himself the leader of the charge
+gallop straight at a breastwork that the Southerners had built, reach
+and stand, horse and rider, a moment at the top, then both fall in
+a limp heap. The next instant the officer, not dead but wounded, was
+dragged a prisoner behind the embankment by generous foes who had
+refused to shoot at him until compelled to do so.
+
+The Union men, with a roar, followed their champion, and Dick felt a
+very storm burst upon them. The Southerners had thrown up earthworks at
+midnight and thousands of riflemen lying behind them sent in a fire at
+short range that caused the first Union line to go down like falling
+grain. Cannon from the wood and elsewhere raked them through and
+through.
+
+It was a vortex of fire and death. The Confederates themselves were
+losing heavily, but taught by the stern Jackson and knowing that his eye
+was upon them they refused to yield. The Northern charge broke on their
+front, but the men did not retreat far. The shrill trumpet called them
+back to the charge, and once more the blue masses hurled themselves upon
+the barrier of fire and steel, to break again, and to come yet a third
+time at the trumpet's call. Often the combatants were within ten yards
+of one another, but strive as they would the Union columns could not
+break through the Confederate defense.
+
+Elsewhere the men of Hill and Longstreet showed a sternness and valor
+equal to that of Jackson's. Their ranks held firm everywhere, and now,
+as the long afternoon drew on, the eye of Lee, watching every rising
+and falling wave of the battle, saw his chance. He drew his batteries
+together in great masses and as the last charge broke on Jackson's lines
+the trumpets sounded the charge for the Southern troops who hitherto had
+stood on the defensive.
+
+Dick heard a tremendous shout, the great rebel yell, that he had heard
+so often before, and that he was destined to hear so often again.
+Through the clouds of smoke and dust he saw the long lines of Southern
+bayonets advancing swiftly. His regiment, which had already lost more
+than half its numbers, was borne back by an appalling weight.
+
+Then hope deserted the boy for the first time. The Union was not to be
+saved here on this field. It was instead another lost Manassas, but far
+greater than the first. The genius of Lee and Jackson which bore up
+the Confederacy was triumphing once again. Dick shut his teeth in grim
+despair. He heard the triumphant shouts of the advancing enemy, and he
+saw that not only his own regiment, but the whole Northern line, was
+being driven back, slowly it is true, but they were going.
+
+Now at the critical moment, Lee was hurling forward every man and gun.
+Although his army was inferior in numbers he was always superior at the
+point of contact, and his exultant veterans pressed harder and harder
+upon their weakening foes. Only the artillery behind them now protected
+Dick and his comrades. But the Confederates still came with a rush.
+
+Jackson was leading on his own men who had stood so long on the
+defensive. The retreating Union line was broken, guns were lost, and
+there was a vast turmoil and confusion. Yet out of it some order finally
+emerged, and although the Union army was now driven back at every point
+it inflicted heavy losses upon its foe, and under the lead of brave
+commanders great masses gathered upon the famous Henry Hill, resolved,
+although they could not prevent defeat, to save the army from
+destruction.
+
+Night was coming down for the second time upon the field of battle, lost
+to the North, although the North was ready to fight again.
+
+Lee and Jackson looked upon the heavy Union masses gathered at the Henry
+Hill, and then looking at the coming darkness they stopped the attack.
+Night heavier than usual came down over the field, covering with
+its friendly veil those who had lost and those who had won, and the
+twenty-five thousand who had fallen.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. THE MOURNFUL FOREST
+
+
+As the night settled down, heavy and dark, and the sounds of firing
+died away along the great line, Dick again sank to the ground exhausted.
+Although the battle itself had ceased, it seemed to him that the drums
+of his ears still reproduced its thunder and roar, or at least the echo
+of it was left upon the brain.
+
+He lay upon the dry grass, and although the night was again hot and
+breathless, surcharged with smoke and dust and fire, he felt a
+chill that went to the bone, and he trembled all over. Then a cold
+perspiration broke out upon him. It was the collapse after two days of
+tremendous exertion, excitement and anxiety. He did not move for eight
+or ten minutes, blind to everything that was going on about him, and
+then through the darkness he saw Colonel Winchester standing by and
+looking down at him.
+
+“Are you all right, Dick, my boy?” the colonel asked.
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied Dick, as his pride made him drag himself to his
+feet. “I'm not wounded at all. I was just clean played out.”
+
+“You're lucky to get off so well,” said the colonel, smiling sadly.
+“We've lost many thousands and we've lost the battle, too. The killed or
+wounded in my regiment number more than two-thirds.”
+
+“Have you seen anything of Warner and Pennington, sir? I lost sight of
+them in that last terrible attack.”
+
+“Pennington is here. He has had a bullet through the fleshy part of his
+left arm, but he's so healthy it won't take him long to get well. I'm
+sorry to say that Warner is missing.”
+
+“Missing, sir? You don't say that George has been killed?”
+
+“I don't say it. I'm hoping instead that he's been captured.”
+
+Dick knew what the colonel meant. In Colonel Winchester's opinion only
+two things, death or capture, could keep Warner from being with them.
+
+“Maybe he will come in yet,” he said. “We were mixed up a good deal when
+the darkness fell, and he may have trouble in finding our position.”
+
+“That's true. There are not so many of us left, and we do not cover any
+great area of ground. Lie still, Dick, and take a little rest. We
+don't know what's going to happen in the night. We may have to do more
+fighting yet, despite the darkness.”
+
+The colonel's figure disappeared in the shadow, and Dick, following his
+advice, lay quiet. All around him were other forms stretched upon the
+earth, motionless. But Dick knew they were not dead, merely sleeping.
+His own nervous system was being restored by youth and the habit
+of courage. Yet he felt a personal grief, and it grew stronger with
+returning physical strength. Warner, his comrade, knitted to him by ties
+of hardship and danger, was missing, dead no doubt in the battle. For
+the moment he forgot about the defeat. All his thoughts were for the
+brave youth who lay out there somewhere, stretched on the dusty field.
+
+Dick strained his eyes into the darkness, as if by straining he might
+see where Warner lay. He saw, indeed, dim fires here and there along a
+long line, marking where the Confederates now stood, or rather lay. Then
+a bitter pang came. It was ground upon which the Union army had stood in
+the morning.
+
+The rifle fire, which had died down, began again in a fitful way. Far
+off, skirmishers, not satisfied with the slaughter of the day, were
+seeing what harm they could do in the dark. Somewhere the plumed and
+unresting Stuart was charging with his horsemen, driving back some
+portion of the Union army that the Confederate forces might be on their
+flank in the morning.
+
+But Dick, as he lay quietly and felt his strength, mental and physical,
+returning, was taking a resolution. Down there in front of them and in
+the darkness was the wood upon which they had made five great assaults,
+all to fail. In front of that mournful forest, and within its edge, more
+than ten thousand men had fallen. He had no doubt that Warner was among
+them.
+
+His sense of direction was good, and, as his blurred faculties regained
+their normal keenness, he could mark the exact line by which they
+had advanced, and the exact line by which they had retreated. Warner
+unquestionably lay near the edge of the wood and he must seek him. Were
+it the other way, Warner would do the same.
+
+Dick stood up. He was no longer dizzy, and every muscle felt steady and
+strong. He did not know what had become of Colonel Winchester, and his
+comrades still lay upon the ground in a deep stupor.
+
+It could not be a night of order and precision, with every man numbered
+and in his place, as if they were going to begin a battle instead of
+just having finished one, and Dick, leaving his comrades, walked calmly
+toward the wood. He passed one sentinel, but a few words satisfied him,
+and he continued to advance. Far to right and left he still heard the
+sound of firing and saw the flash of guns, but these facts did not
+disturb him. In front of him lay darkness and silence, with the horizon
+bounded by that saddest of all woods where the heaped dead lay.
+
+Dick looked back toward the Henry Hill, on the slopes of which were the
+fragments of his own regiment. Lights were moving there, but they were
+so dim they showed nothing. Then he turned his face toward the enemy's
+position and did not look back again.
+
+The character of the night was changing. It had come on dark and heavy.
+Hot and breathless like the one before, he had taken no notice of the
+change save for the increased darkness. Now he felt a sudden damp touch
+on his face, as if a wet finger had been laid there. The faintest of
+winds had blown for a moment or two, and when Dick looked up, he saw
+that the sky was covered with black clouds. The saddest of woods had
+moved far away, but by some sort of optical illusion he could yet see
+it.
+
+Save for the distant flash of random firing, the darkness was intense.
+Every star was gone, and Dick moved without any guide. But he needed
+none. His course was fixed. He could not miss the mournful wood hanging
+there like a pall on the horizon.
+
+His feet struck against something. It was a man, but he was past all
+feeling, and Dick went on, striking by and by against many more. It was
+impossible at the moment to see Warner's face, but he began to feel
+of the figures with his hands. There was none so long and slender as
+Warner's, and he continued his search, moving steadily toward the wood.
+
+He saw presently a lantern moving over the field, and he walked toward
+it. Three men were with the lantern, and the one who carried it held it
+up as he approached. The beams fell directly upon Dick, revealing his
+pale face and torn and dusty uniform.
+
+“What do you want, Yank?” called the man.
+
+“I'm looking for a friend of mine who must have fallen somewhere near
+here.”
+
+The man laughed, but it was not a laugh of joy or irony. It was a laugh
+of pity and sadness.
+
+“You've shorely got a big look comin',” he said. “They're scattered all
+around here, coverin' acres an' acres, just like dead leaves shook by
+a storm from the trees. But j'in us, Yank. You can't do nothin' in the
+darkness all by yourself. We're Johnny Rebs, good and true, and I may
+be shootin' straight at you to-morrow mornin', but I reckon I've got
+nothin' ag'in you now. We're lookin' for a brother o' mine.”
+
+Dick joined them, and the four, the three in gray and the one in blue,
+moved on. A friendly current had passed between him and them, and there
+would be no thought of hostility until the morning, when it would come
+again. It was often so in this war, when men of the same blood met in
+the night between battles.
+
+“What sort of a fellow is it that you're lookin' for?” asked the man
+with the lantern.
+
+“About my age. Very tall and thin. You could mark him by his height.”
+
+“It takes different kinds of people to make the world. My brother ain't
+like him a-tall. Sam's short, an' thick as a buffalo. Weighs two twenty
+with no fat on him. What crowd do you belong to, youngster?”
+
+“The division on our right. We attacked the wood there.”
+
+“Well, you're a bully boy. Give me your hand, if you are a Yank. You
+shorely came right up there and looked us in the eyes. How often did you
+charge us?”
+
+“Five times, I think. But I may be mistaken. You know it wasn't a day
+when a fellow could be very particular about his count.”
+
+“Guess you're right there. I made it five. What do you say, Jim?”
+
+“Five she was.”
+
+“That settles it. Jim kin always count up to five an' never make a
+mistake. What you fellers goin' to do in the mornin'?”
+
+“I don't know.”
+
+“Pope ain't asked you yet what to do. Well, Bobby Lee and Old Stonewall
+ain't been lookin' for me either to get my advice, but, Yank, you
+fellers do just what I tell you.”
+
+“What's that?”
+
+“Pack up your clothes before daylight, say good-bye, and go back
+to Washington. You needn't think you kin ever lick Marse Bobby an'
+Stonewall Jackson.”
+
+“But what if we do think it? We've got a big army back there yet, and
+more are always coming to us. We'll beat you yet.”
+
+“There seems to be a pow'ful wide difference in our opinions, an'
+I can't persuade you an' you can't persuade me. We'll just let the
+question rip. I'm glad, after all, Yank, it's so dark. I don't want to
+see ten thousand dead men stretched out in rows.”
+
+“We're going to get a wettin',” said the man to Jim. “The air's
+already damp on my face. Thar, do you hear that thunder growlin' in the
+southwest? Tremenjously like cannon far away, but it's thunder all the
+same.”
+
+“What do we care 'bout a wettin', Jim? Fur the last few days this young
+Yank here an' his comrades have shot at me 'bout a million cannon balls
+an' shells, an' more 'n a hundred million rifle bullets. Leastways I
+felt as if they was all aimed at me, which is just as bad. After bein'
+drenched fur two days with a storm of steel an' lead an' fire, what do
+you think I care for a summer shower of rain, just drops of rain?”
+
+“But I don't like to get wet after havin' fit so hard. It's unhealthy,
+likely to give me a cold.”
+
+“Never min' 'bout ketchin' cold. You're goin' to get wet, shore.
+Thunder, but I thought fur a second that was the flash of a hull
+battery aimed at me. Fellers, if you wasn't with me I'd be plumb scared,
+prowlin' 'roun' here in a big storm on the biggest graveyard in the
+world. Keep close, Yank, we don't want to lose you in the dark.”
+
+A tremendous flash of lightning had cut the sky down the middle, as if
+it intended to divide the world in two halves, but after its passage the
+darkness closed in thicker and heavier than ever. The sinister sound of
+thunder muttering on the horizon now went on without ceasing.
+
+Dick was awed. Like many another his brain exposed to such tremendous
+pressure for two or three days, was not quite normal. It was quickly
+heated and excited by fancies, and time and place alone were enough to
+weigh down even the coolest and most seasoned. He pressed close to his
+Confederate friends, whose names he never knew, and who never knew his,
+and they, feeling the same influence, never for an instant left the man
+who held the lantern.
+
+The muttering thunder now came closer and broke in terrible crashes. The
+lightning flashed again and again so vividly that Dick, with involuntary
+motion, threw up his hands to shelter his eyes. But he could see before
+him the mournful forest, where so many good men had fallen, and, turned
+red in the gleam of the lightning, it was more terrifying than it had
+been in the mere black of the night. The wind, too, was now blowing,
+and the forest gave forth what Dick's ears turned into a long despairing
+wail.
+
+“She's about to bust,” said the lantern bearer, looking up at the
+menacing sky. “Jim, you'll have to take your wettin' as it comes.”
+
+A moment later the storm burst in fact. The rain rushed down on them,
+soaking them through in an instant, but Dick, so far from caring, liked
+it. It cooled his heated body and brain, and he knew that it was more
+likely to help than hurt the wounded who yet lay on the ground.
+
+The lightning ceased before the sweep of the rain, but the lantern was
+well protected by its glass cover, and they still searched. The lantern
+bearer suddenly uttered a low cry.
+
+“Boys!” he said, “Here's Sam!”
+
+A thick and uncommonly powerful man lay doubled up against a bush. His
+face was white. Dick saw that blood had just been washed from it by
+the rain. But he could see no rising and falling of the chest, and he
+concluded that he was dead.
+
+“Take the lantern, Jim,” said the leader. Then he knelt down and put his
+finger on his brother's wrist.
+
+“He ain't dead,” he said at last. “His pulse is beatin' an' he'll come
+to soon. The rain helped him. Whar was he hit? By gum, here it is! A
+bullet has ploughed all along the side of his head, runnin' 'roun' his
+skull. Here, you Yank, did you think you could kill Sam by shootin' him
+in the head with a bullet? We've stood him up in front of our lines, and
+let you fellows break fifty pound shells on his head. You never done him
+no harm, 'cept once when two solid shot struck him at the same time an'
+he had a headache nigh until sundown. Besides havin' natural thickness
+of the skull Sam trained his head by buttin' with the black boys when he
+was young.”
+
+Dick saw that the man really felt deep emotion and was chattering,
+partly to hide it. He was glad that they had found his brother, and
+he helped them to lift him. Then they rubbed Sam's wrists and poured a
+stimulant down his throat. In a few minutes he stood alone on his feet,
+yawned mightily, and by the light of the dim lantern gazed at them in a
+sort of stupid wonder.
+
+“What's happened?” he asked.
+
+“What's happened?” replied his brother. “You was always late with the
+news, Sam. Of course you've been takin' a nap, but a lot has happened.
+We met the Yankees an' we've been fightin' 'em for two days. Tremenjous
+big battle, an' we've whipped 'em. 'Scuse me, Yank, I forgot you was
+with us. Well, nigh onto a million have been killed, which ought to be
+enough for anybody. I love my country, but I don't care to love another
+at such a price. But resumin' 'bout you pussonally, Sam, you stopped
+so many shells an' solid shot with that thick head of yourn that the
+concussion at last put you to sleep, an' we've found you so we kin take
+you in out of the wet an' let you sleep in a dry place. Kin you walk?”
+
+Sam made an effort, but staggered badly.
+
+“Jim, you an' Dave take him by each shoulder an' walk him back to camp,”
+ said the lantern bearer. “You jest keep straight ahead an' you'll butt
+into Marse Bob or old Stonewall, one or the other.”
+
+“You lead the way with the lantern.”
+
+“Never you mind about me or the lantern.”
+
+“What you goin' to do?”
+
+“Me? I'm goin' to keep this lantern an' help Yank here find his friend.
+Ain't he done stuck with us till we found Sam, an' I reckon I'll stick
+with him till he gits the boy he's lookin for, dead or alive. Now, you
+keep Sam straight, and walk him back to camp. He ain't hurt. Why, that
+bullet didn't dent his skull. It said to itself when it came smack up
+against the bone: 'This is too tough for me, I guess I'll go 'roun'.'
+An' it did go 'roun'. You can see whar it come out of the flesh on
+the other side. Why, by the time Sam was fourteen years old we quit
+splittin' old boards with an axe or a hatchet. We jest let Sam set on a
+log an' we split 'em over his head. Everybody was suited. Sam could make
+himself pow'ful useful without havin' to work.”
+
+Nevertheless, the lantern bearer gave his brother the tenderest care,
+and watched him until he and the men on either side of him were lost in
+the darkness as they walked toward the Southern camp.
+
+“I jest had to come an' find old Sam, dead or alive,” he said. “Now,
+which way, Yank, do you think this friend of yours is layin'?”
+
+“But you're comin' with us,” repeated Jim.
+
+“No, I'm not. Didn't Yank here help us find Sam? An' are we to let the
+Yanks give us lessons in manners? I reckon not. 'Sides, he's only a boy,
+an' I'm goin' to see him through.”
+
+“I thank you,” said Dick, much moved.
+
+“Don't thank me too much, 'cause while I'm walkin' 'roun' with you
+friendly like to-night I may shoot you to-morrow.”
+
+“I thank you, all the same,” said Dick, his gratitude in nowise
+diminished.
+
+“Them that will stir no more are layin' mighty thick 'roun' here, but
+we ought to find your friend pretty soon. By gum, how it rains! W'all,
+it'll wash away some big stains, that wouldn't look nice in the mornin'.
+Say, sonny, what started this rumpus, anyway?”
+
+“I don't know.”
+
+“An' I don't, either, so I guess it's hoss an' hoss with you an' me.
+But, sonny, I'll bet you a cracker ag'in a barrel of beef that none of
+them that did start the rumpus are a-layin' on this field to-night. What
+kind of lookin' feller did you say your young friend was?”
+
+“Very tall, very thin, and about my age or perhaps a year or two older.”
+
+“Take a good look, an' see if this ain't him.”
+
+He held up the lantern and the beams fell upon a long figure half
+raised upon an elbow. The figure was turned toward the light and stared
+unknowing at Dick and the Southerner. There was a great clot of blood
+upon his right breast and shoulder, but it was Warner. Dick swallowed
+hard.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “it's my comrade, but he's hurt badly.”
+
+“So bad that he don't know you or anybody else. He's clean out of his
+head.”
+
+They leaned over him, and Dick called:
+
+“George! George! It's Dick Mason, your comrade, come to help you back to
+camp!”
+
+But Warner merely stared with feverish, unseeing eyes.
+
+“He's out of his head, as I told you, an' he's like to be for many
+hours,” said the lantern bearer. “It's a shore thing that I won't shoot
+him to-morrow, nor he won't shoot me.”
+
+He leaned over Warner and carefully examined the wound.
+
+“He's lucky, after all,” he said, “the bullet went in just under the
+right shoulder, but it curved, as bullets have a way of doin' sometimes,
+an' has come out on the side. There ain't no lead in him now, which is
+good. He was pow'ful lucky, too, in not bein' hit in the head, 'cause he
+ain't got no such skull as Sam has, not within a mile of it. His skull
+wouldn't have turned no bullet. He has lost a power of blood, but if you
+kin get him back to camp, an' use the med'cines which you Yanks have in
+such lots an' which we haven't, he may get well.”
+
+“That's good advice,” said Dick. “Help me up with him.”
+
+“Take him on your back. That's the best way to carry a sick man.”
+
+He set down his lantern, took up Warner bodily and put him on Dick's
+back.
+
+“I guess you can carry him all right,” he said. “I'd light you with the
+lantern a piece of the way, but I've been out here long enough. Marse
+Bob an' old Stonewall will get tired waitin' fur me to tell 'em how to
+end this war in a month.”
+
+Dick, holding Warner in place with one hand, held out the other, and
+said:
+
+“You're a white man, through and through, Johnny Reb. Shake!”
+
+“So are you, Yank. There's nothin' wrong with you 'cept that you
+happened to get on the wrong side, an' I don't hold that ag'in you. I
+guess it was an innercent mistake.”
+
+“Good-bye.”
+
+“Good-bye. Keep straight ahead an' you'll strike that camp of yourn that
+we're goin' to take in the mornin'. Gosh, how it rains!”
+
+Dick retained his idea of direction, and he walked straight through the
+darkness toward the Northern camp. George was a heavy load, but he did
+not struggle. His head sank down against his comrade's and Dick felt
+that it was burning with fever.
+
+“Good old George,” he murmured to himself rather than to his comrade,
+“I'll save you.”
+
+Excitement and resolve had given him a strength twice the normal, a
+strength that would last the fifteen or twenty minutes needed until this
+task was finished. Despite the darkness and the driving rain, he could
+now see the lights in his own camp, and bending forward a little to
+support the dead weight on his back, he walked in a straight course
+toward them.
+
+“Halt! Who are you?”
+
+The form of a sentinel, rifle raised, rose up before him in the darkness
+and the rain.
+
+“Lieutenant Richard Mason of Colonel Winchester's regiment, bringing in
+Lieutenant George Warner of the same regiment, who is badly wounded.”
+
+The sentinel lowered his rifle and looked at them sympathetically.
+
+“Hangs like he's dead, but he ain't,” he said. “You'll find a sort of
+hospital over thar in the big tents among them trees.”
+
+Dick found the improvised hospital, and put George down on a rude cot,
+within the shelter of one of the tents.
+
+“He's my friend,” he said to a young doctor, “and I wish you'd save
+him.”
+
+“There are hundreds of others who have friends also, but I'll do my
+best. Shot just under the right shoulder, but the bullet, luckily, has
+turned and gone out. It's loss of blood that hurt him most. You soldiers
+kill more men than we doctors can save. I'm bound to say that. But your
+friend won't die. I'll see to it.”
+
+“Thank you,” said Dick. He saw that the doctor was kind-hearted, and a
+marvel of endurance and industry. He could not ask for more at such a
+time, and he went out of the tent, leaving George to his care.
+
+It was still raining, but the soldiers managed to keep many fires
+going, despite it, and Dick passed between them as he sought Colonel
+Winchester, and the fragments of his regiment. He found the colonel
+wrapped in a greatcoat, leaning against a tree under a few feet of
+canvas supported on sticks. Pennington, sound asleep, sat on a root of
+the same tree, also under the canvas, but with the rain beating on his
+left arm and shoulder.
+
+Colonel Winchester looked inquiringly at Dick, but said nothing.
+
+“I've been away without leave, sir,” said Dick, “but I think I have
+sufficient excuse.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I've brought in Warner.”
+
+“Ah! Is he dead?”
+
+“No, sir. He's had a bullet through him and he's feverish and
+unconscious, but the doctor says that with care he'll get well.”
+
+“Where did you find him?”
+
+“Over there by the edge of the wood, sir, within what is now the
+Confederate lines.”
+
+“A credit to your courage and to your heart. Sit down here. There's a
+little more shelter under the canvas, and go to sleep. You're too much
+hardened now to be hurt seriously by wet clothes.”
+
+Dick sat down with his back against the tree, and, despite his soaked
+condition, slept as soundly as Pennington. When he awoke in the morning
+the hot sun was shining again, and his clothes soon dried on him. He
+felt a little stiffness and awkwardness at first, but in a few minutes
+it passed away. Then breakfast restored his strength, and he looked
+curiously about him.
+
+Around him was the Northern army, and before him was the vast
+battlefield, now occupied by the foe. He heard sounds of distant rifle
+shots, indicating that the skirmishers were still restless, but it was
+no more now than the buzzing of flies. Pennington, coming back from the
+hospital, hailed him.
+
+“George has come to,” he said. “Great deed of yours last night, Dick.
+Wish I'd done it myself. They let old George talk just a little, but
+he's his real old Vermont self again. Says chances were ninety-nine and
+a half per cent that he would die there on the battlefield, but that the
+half per cent, which was yourself, won. Fancy being only half of one
+per cent, and doing a thing like that. No, you can't see him. Only one
+visitor was allowed, and that's me. His fever is leaving him, and he
+swallowed a little soup. Now, he's going to sleep.”
+
+Dick felt very grateful. Pennington had been up some time, and as they
+sat down in the sun he gave Dick the news.
+
+“It was a bad night,” he said. “After you staggered in with George,
+the rebels, in spite of the rain, harassed us. I was waked up after
+midnight, and the colonel began to believe that we would have to fight
+again before morning, though the need didn't come, so far as we were
+concerned. But we were terribly worried on the flanks. They say it was
+Stuart and his cavalry who were bothering us.”
+
+“What's the outlook for to-day?”
+
+“I don't know. I hear that General Pope has sent a dispatch saying
+that the enemy is badly whipped, and that we'll hold our own here. But
+between you and me, Dick, I don't believe it. We've been driven out of
+all our positions, so we can hardly call it a victory for our side.”
+
+“But we may hold on where we are and win a victory yet. McClellan
+and the Army of the Potomac may come. Anyway, we can get big
+reinforcements.”
+
+Pennington clasped his arms over his knees and sang:
+
+        “The race is not to him that's got
+         The longest legs to run,
+         Nor the battle to those people
+         That shoot the biggest gun.”
+
+“Where did you get that song?” asked Dick. “I'll allow, under the
+circumstances, that there seems to be some sense in it.”
+
+“A Texan that we captured last night sang it to us. He was a funny kind
+of fellow. Didn't seem to be worried a bit because he was taken. Said
+if his own people didn't retake him that he'd escape in a week, anyhow.
+Likely enough he will, too. But he was good company, and he sang us that
+song. Impudent, wasn't he?”
+
+“But true so far, at least in the east. I fancy from what you say,
+Frank, that we'll be here a day longer anyhow. I hope so, I want to
+rest.”
+
+“So do I. I won't fight to-day, unless I'm ordered to do it. But I'm
+thinking with you, Dick, that we'll retreat. We were outmaneuvered by
+Lee and Jackson. That circuit of Jackson's through Thoroughfare Gap and
+the attack from the rear undid us. It comes of being kept in the dark by
+the enemy, instead of your keeping him in the dark. We never knew where
+the blow was going to fall, and when it fell a lot of us weren't there.
+But, Dick, old boy, we're going to win, in the end, aren't we, in spite
+of Lee, in spite of Jackson, and in spite of everybody and everything?”
+
+“As surely as the rising and setting of the sun, Frank.”
+
+Although Dick had little to do that day, events were occurring. It was
+in the minds of Lee and Jackson that they might yet destroy the army
+which they had already defeated, and heavy divisions of the Southern
+army were moving. Dick heard about night that Jackson had marched ten
+miles, through fields deep in mud, and meant to fall on Pope's flank or
+rear again. Stuart and his unresting cavalry were also on their right
+flank and in the rear, doing damage everywhere. Longstreet had sent
+a brigade across Bull Run, and at many points the enemy was pressing
+closer.
+
+The next morning, Pope, alarmed by all the sinister movements on his
+flanks and in his rear, gathered up his army and retreated. It was full
+time or the vise would have shut down on him again. Late that day the
+division under Kearney came into contact with Jackson's flanking force
+in the forest. A short but fierce battle ensued, fought in the night
+and amid new torrents of driving rain. General Kearney was killed by a
+skirmisher, but the night and the rain grew so dense, and they were
+in such a tangle of thickets and forests that both sides drew off, and
+Pope's army passed on.
+
+Dick was not in this battle, but he heard it's crash and roar above the
+sweep of the storm. He and the balance of the regiment were helping to
+guard the long train of the wounded. Now and then, he leaned from his
+horse and looked at Warner who lay in one of the covered wagons.
+
+“I'm getting along all right, Dick, old man,” said Warner. “What's all
+that firing off toward the woods?”
+
+“A battle, but it won't stop us. We retreated in time.”
+
+“And we've been defeated. Well, we can stand it. It takes a good nation
+to stand big defeats. You know I taught school once, Dick, and I learned
+that the biggest nation the world has ever known was the one that
+suffered the biggest defeats. Look at the terrible knocks the Romans
+got! Why the Gauls nearly ate 'em alive two or three times, and for
+years Hannibal whipped 'em every time he could get at 'em. But they
+ended by whipping everybody who had whipped them. They whipped the whole
+world, and they kept it whipped until they played out from old age.”
+
+Dick laughed cheerily.
+
+“Now, you shut up, George,” he said. “You've talked too much. What's
+the use of going back as far as the old Romans for comfort. We can win
+without having to copy a lot of old timers.”
+
+He dropped the flap of canvas and rode on listening to the sounds of the
+combat. A powerful figure stepped out of the bushes and stood beside
+his horse. It was Sergeant Whitley, who had passed through the battle
+without a scratch.
+
+“What has happened, Sergeant?” asked Dick, as he sat in the rain and
+listened to the dying fire.
+
+“There has been a fight, and both are quitting because they can't see
+enough to carry it on any longer. But General Kearney has been killed.”
+
+The retreat continued until they reached the Potomac and were in the
+great fortifications before Washington. Then Pope resigned, and the star
+of McClellan rose again. The command of the armies about Washington
+was entrusted to him, and the North gathered itself anew for the mighty
+struggle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. ORDERS NO. 191
+
+
+When the Union army, defeated at the Second Manassas fell back on
+Washington, Dick was detached for a few days from the regiment by
+Colonel Winchester, partly that he might have a day or two of leave, and
+partly that he might watch over Warner, who was making good progress.
+
+Warner was in a wagon that contained half a dozen other wounded men, or
+rather boys, and they were all silent like stoics as they passed over
+the bridge to a hospital in Washington. His side and shoulder pained
+him, and he had recurrent periods of fever, but he was making fine
+progress.
+
+Dick found his comrade on a small cot among dozens of others in a great
+room. But George's cot was near a window and the pleasant sunshine
+poured in. It was now the opening of September, and the hot days were
+passing. There was a new sparkle and crispness in the air, and Warner,
+wounded as he was, felt it.
+
+“We're back in the capital to enjoy ourselves a while,” he said
+lightly to Dick, “and I'm glad to see that the weather will be fine for
+sight-seeing.”
+
+“Yes, here we are,” said Dick. “The Johnnies beat us this time. They
+didn't outfight us, but they had the best generals. As soon as you're
+well, George, we'll start out again and lick 'em.”
+
+“I'm glad you told 'em to wait for me, Dick. That's what you ought to
+do. I hear that McClellan is at the head of things again.”
+
+“Yes, the Army of the Potomac is to the front once more, and it's
+taken over the Army of Virginia. We hear that Pope is going out to the
+northwest to fight Indians.”
+
+“McClellan is not likely to be trapped as Pope was, but he's so
+tremendously cautious that he'll never trap anything himself. Now, which
+kind of a general would you choose, Dick?”
+
+“As between those two I'll take McClellan. The soldiers at least like
+him and believe in him. And George, our man in the east hasn't come yet.
+The generals we've had don't hammer. They don't concentrate, rush right
+in and rain blows on the enemy.”
+
+“Do you think you know the right man, Dick?”
+
+“I'm making a guess. It's Grant. We saw him at Donelson and Shiloh.
+Surprised at both places, he won anyhow. He wouldn't be beat. That's the
+kind of man we want here in the east.”
+
+“You may be right, Dick, but the politicians in this part of the country
+all run him down. Halleck has been transferred to Washington as a sort
+of general commander and adviser to the President, and they say he
+doesn't like Grant.”
+
+Further talk was cut short by a young army surgeon, and Dick left
+George, saying that he would come back the next day. The streets of
+Washington were full of sunshine, but not of hope and cheerfulness.
+The most terrible suspense reigned there. Never before or since was
+Washington in such alarm. A hostile and victorious army was within a
+day's march. Pope almost to the last had talked of victory. Then came a
+telegram, asking if the capital could be defended in case his army was
+destroyed. Next came the army preceded by thousands of stragglers and
+heralds of disaster.
+
+The people were dropped from the golden clouds of hope to the hard earth
+of despair. They strained their eyes toward Manassas, where the flag of
+the Union had twice gone down in disaster. It was said, and there
+was ample cause for the saying of it, that Lee and Jackson with their
+victorious veterans would appear any moment before the capital.
+There were rumors that the government was packing up in order to flee
+northward to Philadelphia or even New York.
+
+But Dick believed none of these rumors. In fact, he was not greatly
+alarmed by any of them. He was sure that McClellan, although without
+genius, would restore the stamina of the troops, if indeed it were ever
+lost, which he doubted very much. He had seen how splendidly they fought
+at the Second Manassas, and he knew that there was no panic among them.
+Moreover, the North was an inexhaustible storehouse of men and material,
+and whenever one soldier fell two grew in his place.
+
+So he strode through the crowded streets, calm of face and manner, and
+took his way once more to the hotel, where he had sat and listened to
+the talk before the Second Manassas. The lobby was packed with men, and
+there was but one topic, the military situation. Would Lee and Jackson
+advance, hot upon the heels of their victory? Would Washington fall?
+Would McClellan be able to save them? Why weren't the generals of the
+North as good as those of the South?
+
+Dick listened to the talk which was for all who might choose to hear. He
+did not assume any superior frame of mind, merely because he had fought
+in many battles and these men had fought in none. He retained the
+natural modesty of youth, and knowing that one who looked on might
+sometimes be a better judge of what was happening than the one who took
+part, he weighed carefully what they said.
+
+He was in a comfortable chair by the wall, and while he sat there a
+heavy man of middle age, whom he remembered well, approached and stood
+before him, regarding him with a keen and measuring eye.
+
+“Good morning, Mr. Watson,” said Dick politely.
+
+“Ah, it is you, Lieutenant Mason!” said the contractor. “I thought so,
+but I was not sure, as you are thinner than you were when I last saw
+you. I'll just take this seat beside you.”
+
+A man in the next chair had moved and the contractor dropped into it.
+Then he crossed his legs, and smoothed the upper knee with a strong, fat
+hand.
+
+“You've had quite a trip since I last saw you, Mr. Mason,” he said.
+
+“We didn't go so terribly far.”
+
+“It's not length that makes a trip. It's what you see and what happens.”
+
+“I saw a lot, and a hundred times more than what I saw happened.”
+
+The contractor took two fine cigars from his vest pocket and handed one
+to Dick.
+
+“No, thank you,” said the boy, “I've never learned to smoke.”
+
+“I suppose that's because you come from Kentucky, where they raise so
+much tobacco. When you see a thing so thick around you, you don't care
+for it. Well, we'll talk while I light mine and puff it. And so, young
+man, you ran against Lee and Jackson!”
+
+“We did, or they ran against us, which comes to the same thing.”
+
+“And got well thrashed. There's no denying it.”
+
+“I'm not trying to do so.”
+
+“That's right. I thought from the first that you were a young man of
+sense. I'm glad to see that you didn't get yourself killed.”
+
+“A great many good men did.”
+
+“That's so, and a great many more will go the same way. You just listen
+to me. I don't wear any uniform, but I've got eyes to see and ears to
+hear. I suppose that more monumental foolishness has been hidden under
+cocked hats and gold lace than under anything else, since the world
+began. Easy now, I don't say that fools are not more numerous outside
+armies than in them--there are more people outside--but the mistakes of
+generals are more costly.”
+
+“I suppose our generals are doing the best they can. You will let me
+speak plainly, will you, Mr. Watson?”
+
+“Of course, young man. Go ahead.”
+
+“Perhaps you feel badly over a disaster of your own. I saw the smoking
+fires at Bristoe Station. The rebels burned there several million
+dollars worth of stores belonging to us. Maybe a large part of them were
+your own goods.”
+
+The contractor rubbed his huge knee with one hand, took his cigar out
+of his mouth with the other hand, blew several rings of fine blue smoke
+from his nose, and watched them break against the ceiling.
+
+“Young man,” he said, “you're a good guesser, but you don't guess all.
+More than a million dollars worth of material that I supplied was
+burned or looted at Bristoe Station. But it had all been paid for by a
+perfectly solvent Union government. So, if I were to consider it from
+the purely material standpoint, which you imagine to be the only one I
+have, I should rejoice over the raids of the rebels because they make
+trade for contractors. I'm a patriot, even if I do not fight at the
+front. Besides my feelings have been hurt.”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+The contractor drew from his pocket a coarse brown envelope, and he took
+from the envelope a letter, written on paper equally coarse and brown.
+
+“I received this letter last night,” he said. “It was addressed simply
+'John Watson, Washington, D. C.,' and the post office people gave it to
+me at once. It came from somebody within the Confederate lines. You know
+how the Northern and Southern pickets exchange tobacco, newspapers and
+such things, when they're not fighting. I suppose the letter was passed
+on to me in that way. Listen.”
+
+
+
+“John Watson,    Washington, D. C.
+
+“My dear sir: I have never met you, but certain circumstances have made
+me acquainted with your name. Believing therefore that you are a man
+of judgment and fairness I feel justified in making to you a complaint
+which I am sure you will agree with me is well-founded. At a little
+place called Bristoe Station I recently obtained a fine, blue uniform,
+the tint of which wind and rain will soon turn to our own excellent
+Confederate gray. I found your own name as maker stamped upon the neck
+band of both coat and vest.
+
+“I ought to say however that after I had worn the coat only twice the
+seams ripped across both shoulders, I admit that the fit was a little
+tight, but work well done would not yield so quickly. I also picked
+out a pair of beautiful shoes, bearing your name stamped upon them. The
+leather cracked after the first day's use, and good leather will never
+crack so soon.
+
+“Now, my dear Mr. Watson, I feel that you have treated me unfairly. I
+will not use any harsher word. We do not expect you to supply us with
+goods of this quality, and we certainly look for something better from
+you next time.
+
+                  “Your obedient servant,
+                              ARTHUR ST. CLAIR,
+                       Lieutenant 'The Invincibles,'
+                                             C. S. A.”
+
+
+“Now, did you ever hear of another piece of impudence like that?” said
+Watson. “It has its humorous side, I admit, and you're justified in
+laughing, but it's impudence all the same.”
+
+“Yes, it is impudence, and do you know, Mr. Watson, I've met the writer
+of that letter. He is a South Carolinian, and from his standpoint he
+has a real grievance. I never knew anybody else as particular about his
+clothes, and it seems that the uniform and shoes you furnished him are
+not all right. He's a gentleman and he wouldn't lie. I met him at
+Cedar Run, when the burying parties were going over the field. He was
+introduced to me by my cousin, Harry Kenton, who is on the other side.
+Harry wouldn't associate with any fellow who isn't all right.”
+
+“All the same, if I ever catch that young jackanapes of a St.
+Clair--it's an easy name to remember--I'll strip my uniform off him and
+turn him loose for his own comrades to laugh at.”
+
+“But we won't catch either him or his comrades for a long time.”
+
+“That's so, but in the end we'll catch 'em. Now, Mr. Mason, you don't
+agree with me about many things, but you're only a boy and you'll know
+better later on. Anyway, I like you, and if you need help at any time
+and can reach me, come.”
+
+“I'll do so, and I thank you now,” said Dick, who saw that the
+contractor's tone was sincere.
+
+“That's right, good-bye. I see a senator whom I need.”
+
+They shook hands and Watson hurried away with great lightness and
+agility for so large a man.
+
+Dick stayed two days longer in Washington, visiting Warner twice a day
+and seeing with gladness his rapid improvement. When he was with him the
+last time, and told him he was going to join the Army of the Potomac,
+Warner said:
+
+“Dick, old man, I haven't spoken before of the way you brought me in
+from that last battlefield. Pennington has told me about it--but if I
+didn't it was not because I wasn't grateful. Up in Vermont we're not
+much on words--our training I suppose, though I don't say it is the best
+training. It's quite sure that I'd have died if you hadn't found me.”
+
+“Why, George, I looked for you as a matter of course. You'd have done
+exactly the same for me.”
+
+“That's just it, but I didn't get the chance. Now, Dick, there's going
+to be another big battle before long, and I shall be up in time for
+it. You'll be there, too. Couldn't you get yourself shot late in the
+afternoon, lie on the ground, feverish and delirious until far in the
+night, when I'd come for you. Then I could pay you back.”
+
+Dick laughed. He knew that at the bottom of Warner's jest lay a resolve
+to match the score, whenever the chance should come.
+
+“Good-bye, George,” he said. “I'll look for you in two weeks.”
+
+“Make it only ten days. McClellan will need me by that time.”
+
+But it seemed to Dick that McClellan would need him and every other man
+at once. Lee was marching. Passing by the capital he had advanced
+into Maryland, a Southern state, but one that had never seceded. The
+Southerners expected to find many reinforcements here among their
+kindred. The regiments in gray, flushed with victory, advanced singing:
+
+
+          “The despot's heel is on thy shore,
+               Maryland!
+           His torch is at thy temple door,
+               Maryland!
+           Avenge the patriotic gore
+           That flecked the streets of Baltimore
+           And be the battle queen of yore,
+             Maryland, my Maryland!”
+
+
+Dick knew that the South expected much of Maryland. Her people were
+Southerners. Their valor in the Revolution was unsurpassed. People still
+talked of the Maryland line and its great deeds. Many of the Marylanders
+had already come to Lee and Jackson, and now that the Southern army, led
+by its famous leaders and crowned with victories, was on their soil, it
+was expected that they would pour forward in thousands, relieved from
+the fear of Northern armies.
+
+Alarm, deep and intense, spread all through the North. McClellan, as
+usual, doubled Lee's numbers but he organized with all speed to meet
+him. Dick heard that Lee was already at Frederick, giving his troops
+a few days' repose before meeting any enemy who might come. The utmost
+confidence reigned in the South.
+
+McClellan marched, but he advanced slowly. The old mystery and
+uncertainty about the Southern army returned. It suddenly disappeared
+from Frederick, and McClellan became extremely cautious. He had nearly
+a hundred thousand men, veterans now, but he believed that Lee had two
+hundred thousand.
+
+Colonel Winchester again complained bitterly to Dick, who was a comrade
+as well as an aide.
+
+“What we need,” he said, “is a general who doesn't see double, and we
+haven't got him yet. We must spend less time counting the rebels and
+more hammering them.”
+
+“A civilian in Washington told me that,” said Dick. “I believed then
+that he was right, and I believe it yet. If General Grant were here he'd
+attack instead of waiting to be attacked.”
+
+But the Army of the Potomac continued to march forward in a slow and
+hesitating fashion. Dick, despite his impatience, appreciated the
+position of General McClellan. No one in the Union army or in the
+North knew the plans of Lee and Jackson. Lee had not even consulted the
+President of the Confederacy but had merely notified him that he was
+going into Maryland.
+
+Now Lee and Jackson had melted away again in the mist that so often
+overhung their movements. McClellan could not be absolutely sure they
+intended an important invasion of Maryland. They might be planning to
+fall upon the capital from another direction. The Union commander must
+protect Washington and at the same time look for his enemy.
+
+The army marched near the Potomac, and Dick, as he rode with his
+regiment, saw McClellan several times. It had not been many months since
+he took his great army by sea for what seemed to be the certain capture
+of Richmond, but McClellan, although a very young man for so high a
+position, had already changed much. His face was thinner, and it seemed
+to Dick that he had lost something of his confident look. The awful
+Seven Days and his bitter disappointment had left their imprint.
+Nevertheless he was trim, neat and upright, and always wore a splendid
+uniform. An unfailing favorite with the soldiers, they cheered him as he
+passed, and he would raise his hat, a flush of pride showing through the
+tan of his cheeks.
+
+“If a general, after being defeated, can still retain the confidence
+of his army he must have great qualities of some kind,” said Dick to
+Colonel Winchester.
+
+“That's true, Dick. McClellan lost at the Seven Days, and he has just
+taken over an army that was trapped and beaten under Pope, but behold
+the spirits of the men, although the Second Manassas is only a few days
+away. McClellan looks after the private soldier, and if he could only
+look after an army in the way that he organizes it this war would soon
+be over.”
+
+Dick noticed that the colonel put emphasis on the “if” and his heart
+sank a little. But it soon rose again. The Army of the Potomac was now
+a veteran body. It had been tested in the fire of defeat, and it had
+emerged stronger and braver than ever.
+
+But Dick did not like the mystery about Lee and Jackson. They had an
+extraordinary ability to drop out of sight, to draw a veil before them
+so completely that no Union scout or skirmisher could penetrate it. And
+these disappearances were always full of sinister omens, portending a
+terrible attack from an unknown quarter. But when Dick looked upon the
+great and brave Army of the Potomac, nearly a hundred thousand strong,
+his apprehensions disappeared. The Army of the Potomac could not be
+beaten, and since Lee and Jackson were venturing so far from their base,
+they might be destroyed. He confided his faith to Pennington who rode
+beside him.
+
+“I tell you, Frank, old man,” he said, “the Southern army may never get
+back into Virginia.”
+
+“Not if we light a prairie fire behind it and set another in front. Then
+we'll have 'em trapped same as they trapped us at Manassas. Wouldn't
+it be funny if we'd turn their own trick on 'em, and end the war right
+away?”
+
+“It would be more than funny. It would be grand, superb, splendid,
+magnificent. But I wish old George was here. Why did he want to get in
+the way of that bullet? I hate to think of ending the war without him.”
+
+“Maybe he'll get up in time yet, Dick. I saw him a few hours before
+we started. The doctors said that youth, clean blood and clean living
+counted for a lot--I guess George would put it at ninety per cent, and
+that his wound, the bullet having gone through, would heal at a record
+rate.”
+
+“Then we'll see him soon. When he's strong enough to ride a horse,
+nothing can hold him back.”
+
+“That's so. I see houses ahead. What place is it, Dick?”
+
+“It must be Frederick. We had reports that the Johnnies were about here,
+but they must have vanished, since no bullets meet us. The colonel is
+looking through his glasses, and, as he does not check his horse, it is
+evident that the enemy is not there.”
+
+“But maybe he has been there, and if he has we'll just take his place.
+I like the looks of these Maryland towns, Frank, and they're not so
+hostile to us.”
+
+Colonel Winchester's skeleton regiment, now not amounting to more than
+three hundred men, was in the vanguard and it rode forward rapidly. The
+people received them without either enthusiasm or marked hostility. Yet
+the Union vanguard obtained news. Lee had been there with his army, but
+he had gone away! Where! They could not say. The Southern officers
+had been silent and the soldiers had not known. None of the people of
+Frederick had been allowed to follow. A cloud of cavalry covered the
+Southern movements.
+
+“Not so definite after all,” said Dick. “We know that the Southern army
+has been here, but we don't know where it has gone.”
+
+“At any rate,” said Pennington, “we're on the trail, and we're bound
+to find it sooner or later. I learned from the hunters in Nebraska that
+when you strike the trail of a buffalo herd, all you had to do was to
+keep on and you'd strike the herd itself.”
+
+It was not yet noon and McClellan's army began to go into camp at
+Frederick. Dick and Pennington got a chance to stroll about a little,
+and they picked up much gossip. Young women, with strong Southern
+proclivities, looked with frowning eyes upon their blue uniforms, but
+the frank and pleasant smiles of the two lads disarmed them. Older women
+of the same proclivities did not melt so easily, but continued to regard
+them with a hard and burning gaze.
+
+But there were men strongly for the Union, and the two friendly lads
+picked up many details from them. They showed them a grove in which Lee,
+Jackson, Longstreet and D. H. Hill had all been camped at once. People
+had gone there daily for a glimpse of these famous men.
+
+They also showed the boys the very spot where Stonewall Jackson had
+come near to making an ignominious end of his great career. His faithful
+horse, Little Sorrel, had been worn out by incessant marchings and must
+rest for a while. The people gave him a splendid horse, but one that had
+not been broken well. The first time he mounted it a band happened
+to begin playing, the horse sprang wildly, the saddle girth broke and
+Jackson was thrown heavily to the ground.
+
+“You'd better believe there was excitement then,” said the narrator,
+a clerk in one of the stores. “Everybody ran forward to pick up the
+general. He had been thrown so hard that he was stunned and had big
+bruises. That horse did him more damage than all the armies of the
+North have done. I can tell you there was alarm for a while among the
+Johnnies, but they say he was all over it before he left.”
+
+They wandered back toward their own command and the obliging guide
+pointed out to them a house which the Confederate generals had made
+their headquarters. They saw Colonel Winchester entering it, and
+thanking the clerk, followed him.
+
+Union officers were already in the house looking with curiosity at the
+chairs and tables that Jackson and Lee and Longstreet had occupied. Dick
+caught sight of a small package lying on one of the tables, but another
+man picked it up first. As he did so he looked at Dick and said in
+triumph:
+
+“Three good cigars that the rebels have left behind. Have one, Mason?”
+
+“Thanks, but I don't smoke.”
+
+“All right, I'll find someone else who does.”
+
+He pulled off a piece of paper wrapped around them, threw it on the
+floor and put the cigars in his pocket. Dick was about to turn away when
+he happened to glance at the wrapping lying on the floor.
+
+His eyes were caught by the words written in large letters:
+
+    HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF NORTH--
+
+Something seemed to shoot through his brain. It was like a flash of
+warning or command and he obeyed at once. He picked up the paper and
+smoothed it out in his hand. The full line read like the headline in a
+newspaper:
+
+
+    HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA.
+                              September 9, 1862.
+
+Then with eyes bulging in his head he read:
+
+    HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA.
+                              September 9, 1862.
+Special Orders, No. 191.
+
+The army will resume its march tomorrow, taking the Hagerstown road.
+General Jackson's command will form the advance, and after passing
+Middletown with such portions as he may select, take their route toward
+Sharpsburg, cross the Potomac at the most convenient point and by Friday
+morning take possession of the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, capture such
+of them as may be at Martinsburg, and intercept such as may attempt to
+escape from Harper's Ferry.
+
+General Longstreet's command will pursue the main road as far as
+Boonsborough, where it will halt with the reserve supply and baggage
+train of the army.
+
+General McLaws with his own division and that of General R. H. Anderson
+will follow General Longstreet. On reaching Middletown will take the
+route to Harper's Ferry, and by Friday morning possess himself of the
+Maryland Heights and endeavor to capture the enemy at Harper's Ferry and
+vicinity.
+
+
+Dick stopped a moment and gasped.
+
+“Come on,” called the man with the cigars, “there is nothing more to be
+seen here.”
+
+“Wait a moment,” said Dick.
+
+Perhaps it was his duty to rush at once with it to a superior officer,
+but the spell was too strong. He read on:
+
+
+General Walker with his division, after accomplishing the object on
+which he is now engaged, will cross the Potomac at Cheek's Ford, ascend
+its right bank to Lovettsville, take possession of Sundown Heights, if
+practicable, by Friday morning, Key's Grove on his left, and the road
+between the end of the mountains and the Potomac on his right. He
+will, as far as practicable, co-operate with General McLaws and General
+Jackson, and intercept the retreat of the enemy.
+
+General D. H. Hill's division will form the rear-guard of the army,
+pursuing the road taken by the main body. The reserve artillery,
+ordinance and supply trains, etc., will precede General Hill.
+
+
+Dick gasped and he heard someone calling again to him to come, but he
+read on:
+
+
+General Stuart will detach a squadron of cavalry to accompany the
+commands of Generals Longstreet, Jackson and McLaws, and with the main
+body of the cavalry will cover the route of the army, bringing up all
+the stragglers that may have been left behind.
+
+The commands of General Jackson, McLaws and Walker, after accomplishing
+the objects for which they have been detached, will join the main body
+of the army at Boonsborough or Hagerstown.
+
+Each regiment on the march will habitually carry its axes in the
+regimental ordnance wagons, for use of the men at their encampments, to
+procure wood, etc.                                    R. H. CHILTON,
+                             Assistant Adjutant General.
+
+
+Dick clutched the paper in his hands and for the moment his throat
+seemed to contract so tightly that he could not breathe. Then he felt a
+burst of wild joy.
+
+One of the most extraordinary incidents in the whole history of war had
+occurred. He knew in an instant that this was Lee's general orders
+to his army, and that at such a time nothing could be more important.
+Evidently copies of it had been sent to all his division commanders, and
+this one by some singular chance either had not reached its destination,
+or had been tossed carelessly aside after reading. Found by those who
+needed it most wrapped around three cigars! It was a miracle! Nothing
+short of it! How could the Union army be defeated after such an omen?
+
+It was the copy intended for the Southern general, D. H. Hill--he denied
+that he ever received it--but it did not matter to Dick then for whom it
+was intended. He saw at once all the possibilities. Lee and Jackson had
+divided their army again. Emboldened by the splendid success of their
+daring maneuver at Manassas they were going to repeat it.
+
+He looked again at the date on the order. September 9th! And this was
+the 13th! Jackson was to march on the 10th. He had been gone three days
+with the half, perhaps, of Lee's army, and Lee himself must be somewhere
+near at hand. The Union scouts could quickly find him and the ninety
+thousand veterans of the Army of the Potomac could crush him to powder
+in a day. What a chance! No, it was not a chance. It was a miracle. The
+key had been put in McClellan's hand and it would take but one turn of
+his wrist to unlock the door upon dazzling success.
+
+Dick saw the war finished in a month. Lee could not have more than
+twenty or twenty-five thousand men with him, and Jackson was three or
+four days' march away. He clutched the order in his hand and ran toward
+Colonel Winchester.
+
+“Here, take it, sir! Take it!” he exclaimed.
+
+“Take what?”
+
+“Look! Look! See what it is!”
+
+Colonel Winchester took one glance at it, and then he, too, became
+excited. He hurried with it to General McClellan, and that day the
+commander-in-chief telegraphed to the anxious President at Washington:
+
+“I have all the plans of the rebels, and will catch them in my own trap,
+if my men are equal to the emergency.”
+
+The shrewd Lincoln took notice of the qualifying clause, “if my men are
+equal to the emergency,” and sighed a little. Already this general,
+so bold in design and so great in preparation was making excuses for
+possible failure in action--if he failed his men and not he would be to
+blame.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. THE DUEL IN THE PASS
+
+
+Dick carried the news to Pennington who danced with delight.
+
+“We've got 'em! we've got 'em!” he cried over and over again.
+
+“So we have,” said Dick, “we'll be marching in a half hour and then the
+trap will shut down so tight on Robert Lee that he'll never raise the
+lid again.”
+
+It was nearly noon, and they expected every moment the order to start,
+but it did not come. Dick began to be tormented by an astonished
+impatience, and he saw that Colonel Winchester suffered in the same way.
+The army showed no signs of moving. Was it possible that McClellan would
+not advance at once on Lee, whom the scouts had now located definitely?
+The hot afternoon hours grew long as they passed one by one, and many a
+brave man ate his heart out with anger at the delay. Dick saw Sergeant
+Whitley walking up and down, and he was eager to hear his opinion.
+
+“What is it, sergeant?” he asked. “Why do we sit here, twiddling our
+thumbs when there is an army waiting to be taken by us?”
+
+“You're a commissioned officer, sir, and I'm only a private.”
+
+“Never mind about that. You're a veteran of many years and many fights,
+and I know but little. Why do we sit still in the dust and fail to take
+the great prize that's offered to us?”
+
+“The men of an army, sir, do the fighting, but its generals are its
+brains. It is for the brains to judge, to see and to command. The
+generals cannot win without the men, and the men cannot win without the
+generals. Now, in this case, sir, you can see--”
+
+He stopped and shrugged his shoulders, as if it were not for him to say
+any more.
+
+“I see,” said Dick bitterly. “You needn't say it, sergeant, but I'll say
+it for you. General McClellan has been overcome by caution again, and he
+sees two Johnnies where but one stands.”
+
+Sergeant Whitley shrugged his shoulders again, but said nothing. Dick
+was about to turn away, when he saw a tall, thin figure approaching.
+
+“Mr. Warner,” said Sergeant Whitley.
+
+“So it is,” exclaimed Dick. “It's really good old George come to help
+us!”
+
+He rushed forward and shook hands with Warner who although thin and pale
+was as cool and apparently almost as strong as ever.
+
+“Here I am, Dick,” he said, “and the great battle hasn't been fought.
+I knew they couldn't fight it without me. The hospital at Washington
+dismissed me in disgrace because I got well so fast. 'What's the use,'
+said one of the doctors, 'in getting up and running away to the army to
+get killed? You could die much more comfortably here in bed.' 'Not at
+all,' I replied. 'I don't get killed when I'm with the army. I merely
+get nearly killed. Then I lie unconscious on the field, in the rain,
+until some good friend comes along, takes me away on his back and puts
+me in a warm bed. It's a lot safer than staying in your hospital all the
+time.'”
+
+“Oh, shut up, George! Come and see the boys. They'll be glad to know
+you're back--what's left of 'em.”
+
+Warner's welcome was in truth warm. He seemed more phlegmatic than ever,
+but he opened his eyes wide when they told him of the dispatch that had
+been lost and found.
+
+“General McClellan must have been waiting for me,” he said. “Tell him
+I've come.”
+
+But General McClellan did not yet move. The last long hour of the day
+passed. The sun set in red and gold behind the western mountains, and
+the Army of the Potomac still rested in its camp, although privates even
+knew that precious hours were being lost, and that booming cannon might
+already be telling the defenders of Harper's Ferry that Jackson was at
+hand.
+
+Nor were they far wrong. While McClellan lingered on through the night,
+never moving from his camp, Jackson and his generals were pushing
+forward with fiery energy and at dawn the next day had surrounded
+Harper's Ferry and its doomed garrison of more than twelve thousand men.
+
+But these were things that Dick could not guess that night. One small
+detachment had been sent ahead by McClellan, chiefly for scouting
+purposes, and in the darkness the boy who had gone a little distance
+forward with Colonel Winchester heard the booming of cannon. It was a
+faint sound but unmistakable, and Dick glanced at his chief.
+
+“That detachment has come into contact with the rebels somewhere there
+in the mountains,” he said, “and the ridges and valleys are bringing us
+the echoes. Oh, why in Heaven's name are we delayed here through all the
+precious moments! Every hour's delay will cost the lives of ten thousand
+good men!”
+
+And it is likely that in the end Colonel Winchester's reckoning was
+too moderate. He and Dick gazed long in the direction in which Harper's
+Ferry lay, and they listened, too, to the faint mutter of the guns among
+the hills. Before dawn, scouts came in, saying that there had been hard
+fighting off toward Harper's Ferry, and that Lee with the other division
+of the Southern army was retreating into a peninsula formed by the
+junction of the river Antietam with the Potomac, where he would await
+the coming of Jackson, after taking Harper's Ferry.
+
+“Jackson hasn't taken Harper's Ferry yet,” said Dick, when he heard the
+news. “Many of Banks' veterans of the valley are there, and, our men
+instead of being crushed by defeat, are always improved by it.”
+
+“Still, I wish we'd march,” said Warner. “I didn't come here merely to
+go into camp. I might as well have stayed in the hospital.”
+
+Nevertheless they moved at daylight. McClellan had made up his mind
+at last, and the army advanced joyfully to shut down the trap on Lee.
+Dick's spirits rose with the sun and the advance of the troops. They had
+delayed, but they would get Lee yet. There was nothing to tell them that
+Harper's Ferry had fallen, and Jackson's force must still be detained
+there far away. They ought to strike Lee on the morrow and destroy
+him, and then they would destroy Jackson. Oh, Lee and Jackson had been
+reckless generals to venture beyond the seceding states!
+
+They marched fast now, and the fiery Hooker soon to be called Fighting
+Joe led the advance. He was eager to get at Lee, who some said did not
+now have more than twenty thousand men with him, although McClellan
+insisted on doubling or tripling his numbers and those of Jackson.
+Scouts and skirmishers came in fast now. Yes, Lee was between the
+Antietam and the Potomac and they ought to strike him on the morrow. The
+spirits of the Army of the Potomac continually rose.
+
+Dick remained in a joyous mood. He had been greatly uplifted by
+the return of his comrade, Warner, for whom he had formed a strong
+attachment, and he could not keep down the thought that they would now
+be able to trap Lee and end the war. The terrible field of the Second
+Manassas was behind him and forgotten for the time. They rode now to a
+new battle and to victory.
+
+Another great cloud of dust like that at Manassas rolled slowly on
+toward the little river or creek of Antietam, but the heat was not so
+great now. A pleasant breeze blew from the distant western mountains and
+cooled the faces of the soldiers. The country through which they were
+passing was old for America. They saw a carefully cultivated soil, good
+roads and stone bridges.
+
+None of the lads and young men around Colonel Winchester rejoiced more
+than Warner. Released from the hospital and with his tried comrades once
+more he felt as if he were the dead come back. He was in time, too, for
+the great battle which was to end the war. The cool wind that blew upon
+his face tingled with life and made his pulses leap. Beneath the granite
+of his nature and a phlegmatic exterior, he concealed a warm heart that
+always beat steadfastly for his friends and his country.
+
+“Dick,” he said, “have they heard anything directly from Harper's
+Ferry?”
+
+“Not a word, at least none that I've heard about, but it's quite sure
+that Jackson hasn't taken the place yet. Why should he? We have there
+twelve or thirteen thousand good men, most of whom have proven their
+worth in the valley. Why, they ought to beat him off entirely.”
+
+“And while they're doing that we ought to be taking Mr. Lee and a lot of
+well-known Confederate gentlemen. I've made a close calculation, Dick,
+and I figure that the chances are at least eighty per cent in favor of
+our taking or destroying Lee's army.”
+
+“I wish we had started sooner,” said Pennington. “We've lost a whole
+day, one of the most precious days the world has ever known.”
+
+“You're right, Frank, and I've allowed that fact to figure importantly
+in my reckoning. If it were not for the lost day I'd figure our chance
+of making the finishing stroke at ninety-five per cent. But boys, it's
+glorious to be back with you. Once, I thought when we were marching back
+and forth so much that if I could only lie down and rest for a week or
+two I'd be the happiest fellow on earth. But it became awful as I lay
+there, day after day. I had suddenly left the world. All the great
+events were going on without me. North or South might win, while I lay
+stretched on a hospital bed. It was beyond endurance. If I hadn't got
+well so fast that they could let me go, I'd have climbed out of the
+window with what strength I had, and have made for the army anyhow. Did
+you ever feel a finer wind than this? What a beautiful country! It must
+be the most magnificent in the world!”
+
+Dick and Pennington laughed. Old George was growing gushy. But they
+understood that he saw with the eyes of the released prisoner.
+
+“It is beautiful,” said Dick, “and it's a pity that it should be ripped
+up by war. Listen, boys, there's the call that's growing mighty familiar
+to us all!”
+
+Far in front behind the hills they heard the low grumbling of cannon.
+And further away to the west they heard the same sinister mutter. The
+Confederates were scattered widely, and the fateful Orders No. 191 might
+cause their total destruction, but they were on guard, nevertheless.
+Jackson, foreseeing the possible advance of McClellan, had sent back
+Hill with a division to help Lee, and to delay the Northern army until
+he himself should come with all his force.
+
+In this desperate crisis of the Confederacy, more desperate than any of
+the Southern generals yet realized, the brain under the old slouch hat
+never worked with more precision, clearness and brilliancy. He would not
+only do his own task, but he would help his chief while doing it. When
+McClellan began his march after a delay of a day he was nearer to Lee
+than Jackson was and every chance was his, save those that lightning
+perception and unyielding courage win.
+
+The lads heard the mutter of the cannon grow louder, and rise to a
+distant thunder. Far ahead of them, where high hills thick with forest
+rose, they saw smoke and flashes of fire. A young Maryland cavalry
+officer, riding near, explained to them that the point from which the
+cannonade came was a gap in South Mountain, although it was as yet
+invisible, owing to the forest.
+
+“We heard that Lee's army was much further away,” said Warner to Dick.
+“What can it mean? What force is there fighting our vanguard?”
+
+It was Shepard, the spy, who brought them the facts. He had already
+reported to General McClellan, when he approached Colonel Winchester.
+His face was worn and drawn, and he was black under the eyes. His
+clothes were covered with dust. His body was weary almost unto death,
+but his eyes burned with the fire of an undying spirit.
+
+“I've been all the night and all this morning in the mountains and
+hills,” he said. “Harper's Ferry is not yet taken, but I think it will
+fall. But Hill, McLaws and Longstreet are all in this pass or the other
+which leads through the mountain. They mean to hold us as long as they
+can, and then hang on to the flank of our army.”
+
+He passed on and the little regiment advanced more rapidly. Dick saw
+Colonel Winchester's eyes sparkling and he knew he was anxious to be in
+the thick of it. Other and heavier forces were deploying upon the same
+point, but Winchester's regiment led.
+
+As they approached a deadly fire swept the plain and the hills. Rifle
+bullets crashed among them and shell and shrapnel came whining and
+shrieking. Once more the Winchester regiment, as it had come to be
+called, was smitten with a bitter and deadly hail. Men fell all around
+Dick but the survivors pressed on, still leading the way for the heavy
+brigades which they heard thundering behind them.
+
+The mouth of the pass poured forth fire and missiles like a volcano, but
+Dick heard Colonel Winchester still shouting to his men to come on, and
+he charged with the rest. The fire became so hot that the vanguard
+could not live in it without shelter, and the colonel, shouting to the
+officers to dismount, ordered them all to take cover behind trees and
+rocks.
+
+Dick who had been carried a little ahead of the rest, sprang down, still
+holding his horse, and made for a great rock which he saw on one side
+just within the mouth of the pass. His frightened horse reared and
+jerked so violently that he tore the bridle from the lad's hand and ran
+away.
+
+Dick stood for a moment, scarcely knowing what to do, and then, as a
+half dozen bullets whistled by his head, urging him to do something, he
+finished his dash for the rock, throwing himself down behind it just as
+a half a dozen more bullets striking on the stone told him that he had
+done the right thing in the very nick of time.
+
+He carried with him a light rifle of a fine improved make, a number of
+which had been captured at the Second Manassas, and which some of the
+younger officers had been allowed to take. He did not drop it in his
+rush for the rock, holding on to it mechanically.
+
+He lay for at least a minute or two flat upon the ground behind the
+great stone, while the perspiration rolled from his face and his hair
+prickled at the roots. He could never learn to be unconcerned when a
+dozen or fifteen riflemen were shooting at him.
+
+When he raised his head a little he saw that the Winchester regiment had
+fallen back, and that, in truth, the entire advance had stopped until it
+could make an attack in full force upon the enemy.
+
+Dick recognized with a certain grim humor that he was isolated. He was
+just a little Federal island in a Confederate sea. Up the gap he saw
+cannon and masses of gray infantry. Gathered on a comparatively level
+spot was a troop of cavalry. He saw all the signs of a desperate
+defense, and, while he watched, the great guns of the South began to
+fire again, their missiles flying far over his head toward the Northern
+army.
+
+Dick was puzzled, but for the present he did not feel great alarm about
+himself. He lay almost midway between the hostile forces, but it was
+likely that they would take no notice of him.
+
+With a judgment born of a clear mind, he lay quite still, while the
+hostile forces massed themselves for attack and defense. Each was
+feeling out the other with cannon, but every missile passed well over
+his head, and he did not take the trouble to bow to them as they sailed
+on their errands. Yet he lay close behind that splendid and friendly
+rock.
+
+He knew that the Southerners would have sharpshooters and skirmishers
+ahead of their main force. They would lie behind stones, trees and brush
+and at any moment one of them might pick him off. The Confederate force
+seemed to incline to the side of the valley, opposite the slope on which
+he lay, and he was hopeful that the fact would keep him hidden until the
+masses of his own people could charge into the gap.
+
+It was painful work to flatten his body out behind a stone and lie
+there. No trees or bushes grew near enough to give him shade, and the
+afternoon sun began to send down upon him direct rays that burned. He
+wondered how long it would be until the Union brigades came. It seemed
+to him that they were doing a tremendous amount of waiting. Nothing was
+to be gained by this long range cannon fire. They must charge home with
+the bayonet.
+
+He raised himself a little in order that he might peep over the stone
+and see if the charge were coming, and then with a little cry he dropped
+back, a fine gray powder stinging his face. A rifle had been fired
+across the valley and a bullet chipping the top of the rock sheltering
+Dick warned him that he was not the only sharpshooter who lay in an
+ambush.
+
+Peeping again from the side of the rock, he saw curls of blue smoke
+rising from a point behind a stone just like his own on the other side
+of the valley. It was enough to tell him that a Southern sharpshooter
+lay there and had marked him for prey.
+
+Dick's anger rose. Why should anyone seek his life, trying to pick him
+off as if he were a beast of prey? He had been keeping quiet, disturbing
+nobody, merely seeking a chance to escape, when this ruthless rebel had
+seen him. He became in his turn hot and fiercely ready to give bullet
+for bullet. Smoke floating through the pass and the flash of the cannon,
+made him more eager to hit the sharpshooter who was seeking so hard to
+hit him.
+
+Watching intently he caught a glimpse of a gray cap showing above the
+rock across the valley, and, raising his light rifle, he fired, quick as
+a flash. The return shot came at once, and chipped the rock as before,
+but he dropped back unhurt, and peeping from the side he could see
+nothing. He might or might not have slain his enemy. The gray cap was no
+longer visible, and he watched to see if it would reappear.
+
+He heard the sound of a great cannonade before the mouth of the pass,
+and he saw his own people advancing in force, their lines extending far
+to the left and right, with several batteries showing at intervals. Then
+came the rebel yell from the pass and as the Union lines advanced the
+Southerners poured upon them a vast concentrated fire.
+
+Dick, watching through the smoke and forgetful of his enemy across the
+valley, saw the Union charge rolled back. But he also saw the men out
+of range gathering themselves for a new attack. Within the pass
+preparations were going on to repel it a second time. Then he glanced
+toward the opposite rock and dropped down just in time. He had seen a
+rifle barrel protruding above it, and a second later the bullet whistled
+where his head had been.
+
+He grew angrier than ever. He had left that sharpshooter alone for at
+least ten minutes, while he watched charge and repulse, and he expected
+to be treated with the same consideration. He would pay him for such
+ferocity, and seeing an edge of gray shoulder, he fired.
+
+No sign came from the rock, and Dick was quite sure that he had missed.
+The blood mounted to his head and surcharged his brain. A thousand
+little pulses that he had never heard of before began to beat in his
+head, and he was devoured by a consuming anger. He vowed to get that
+fellow yet.
+
+Lying flat upon his stomach he drew himself around the edge of the rock
+and watched. There was a great deal of covering smoke from the artillery
+in the pass now, and he believed that it would serve his purpose.
+
+But when he got a little distance away from the rock the bank of smoke
+lifted suddenly, and it was only by quickly flattening himself
+down behind a little ridge of stone that he saved his life. The
+sharpshooter's bullet passed so close to his head that Dick felt as if
+he had received a complete hair cut, all in a flash.
+
+He fairly sprang back to the cover of his rock. What a fine rock
+that was! How big and thick! And it was so protective! In a spirit of
+defiance he fired at the top of the other stone and saw the gray dust
+shoot up from it. Quick came the answering shot, and a little piece of
+his coat flew with it. That was certainly a great sharpshooter across
+the valley! Dick gave him full credit for his skill.
+
+Then he heard the rolling of drums and the mellow call of trumpets in
+front of the pass. Taking care to keep well under cover he looked back.
+The Union army was advancing in great force now, its front tipped with a
+long line of bayonets and the mouths of fifty cannon turned to the pass.
+In front of them swarmed the skirmishers, eager, active fellows leaping
+from rock to rock and from tree to tree.
+
+Dick foresaw that the second charge would not fail. Its numbers were so
+great that it would at least enter the pass and hold the mouth of it.
+Already a mighty cannonade was pouring a storm of death over the heads
+of the skirmishers toward the defenders, and the brigades came on
+steadily and splendidly to the continued rolling of the drums.
+
+Dick rose up again, watching now for his enemy who, he knew, could not
+remain much longer behind the rock, as he would soon be within range of
+the Northern skirmishers advancing on that side.
+
+He fancied that he could hear the massive tread of the thousands coming
+toward the pass, and the roll of the drums, distinct amid the roar of
+the cannon, told him that his comrades would soon be at hand, driving
+everything before them. But his eyes were for that big rock on the other
+side of the valley. Now was his time for revenge upon the sharpshooter
+who had sought his life with such savage persistence. The Northern
+skirmishers were drawing nearer and the fellow must flee or die.
+
+Suddenly the sharpshooter sprang from the rock, and up flew Dick's rifle
+as he drew a bead straight upon his heart. Then he dropped the weapon
+with a cry of horror. Across the valley and through the smoke he
+recognized Harry Kenton, and Harry Kenton looking toward his enemy
+recognized him also.
+
+Each threw up his hand in a gesture of friendliness and farewell--the
+roar of the battle was so loud now that no voice could have been heard
+at the distance--and then they disappeared in the smoke, each returning
+to his own, each heart thrilling with a great joy, because its owner had
+always missed the sharpshooter behind the stone.
+
+The impression of that vivid encounter in the pass was dimmed for a
+while for Dick by the fierceness of the fighting that followed. The
+defense had the advantage of the narrow pass and the rocky slopes,
+and numbers could not be put to the most account. Nevertheless, the
+Confederates were pressed back along the gap, and when night came the
+Union army was in full possession of its summit.
+
+But at the other gap the North had not achieved equal success.
+Longstreet, marching thirteen miles that day, had come upon the field in
+time, and when darkness fell the Southern troops still held their ground
+there. But later in the night Hill and Longstreet, through fear of being
+cut off, abandoned their positions and marched to join Lee.
+
+Dick and his comrades who did not lie down until after midnight had
+come, felt that a great success had been gained. McClellan had been slow
+to march, but, now that he was marching, he was sweeping the enemy out
+of his way.
+
+The whole Army of the Potomac felt that it was winning and McClellan
+himself was exultant. Early the next morning he reported to his superior
+at Washington that the enemy was fleeing in panic and that General Lee
+admitted that he had been “shockingly whipped.”
+
+Full of confidence, the army advanced to destroy Lee, who lay between
+the peninsula of the Antietam and the Potomac, but just about the
+time McClellan was writing his dispatch, the white flag was hoisted at
+Harper's Ferry, the whole garrison surrendered, and messengers were on
+their way to Lee with the news that Stonewall Jackson was coming.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. ACROSS THE STREAM
+
+
+Dick and his comrades had not heard of the taking of Harper's Ferry and
+they were full of enthusiasm that brilliant morning in mid-September.
+McClellan, if slow to move, nevertheless had shown vigor in action,
+and the sanguine youths could not doubt that they had driven Lee into a
+corner. The Confederates, after the fierce fighting of the day before,
+had abandoned both gaps, and the way at last lay clear before the Army
+of the Potomac.
+
+Dick was mounted again. In fact his horse, after pulling the reins from
+his hands and fleeing from the Confederate fire, had been retaken by
+a member of his own regiment and returned to him. It was another good
+omen. The lost had been found again and defeat would become victory.
+
+But Dick said nothing to anybody of his duel with Harry Kenton. He
+shuddered even now when he recalled it. And yet there had been no guilt
+in either. Neither had known that the other lay behind the stone,
+but happy chance had made all their bullets go astray. Again he was
+thankful.
+
+“How did you stand that fighting yesterday afternoon, George?” Dick
+asked of Warner.
+
+“First rate. The open air agreed with me, and as no bullet sought me out
+I felt benefited. I didn't get away from that hospital too soon. How far
+away is this Antietam River, behind which they say Lee lies?”
+
+“It's only eight miles from the gap,” said Pennington, who had been
+making inquiries, “and as we have come three miles it must be only five
+miles away.”
+
+“Correct,” said Warner, who was in an uncommonly fine humor. “Your
+mathematical power grows every day, Frank. Let x equal the whole
+distance from the gap to the Antietam, which is eight miles, let y equal
+the distance which we have come which is three miles, then x minus y
+equals the distance left, which is five miles. Wonderful! wonderful!
+You'll soon have a great head on you, Frank.”
+
+“If some rebel cannoneer doesn't shoot it off in the coming battle. By
+George, we're driving their skirmishers before us! They don't seem to
+make any stand at all!”
+
+The vanguard certainly met with no very formidable resistance as it
+advanced over the rolling country. The sound of firing was continuous,
+but it came from small squads here and there, and after firing a few
+volleys the men in gray invariably withdrew.
+
+Yet the Northern advance was slow. Colonel Winchester became intensely
+impatient again.
+
+“Why don't we hurry!” he exclaimed. “Of all things in the world the one
+that we need most is haste. With Jackson tied up before Harper's Ferry,
+Lee's defeat is sure, unless he retreats across the Potomac, and that
+would be equivalent to a defeat. Good Heavens, why don't we push on?”
+
+He had not yet heard of the fall of Harper's Ferry, and that Jackson
+with picked brigades was already on the way to join Lee. Had he known
+these two vital facts his anger would have burned to a white heat.
+Surely no day lost was ever lost at a greater cost than the one
+McClellan lost after the finding of Orders No. 191.
+
+“Do you know anything about the Antietam, colonel?” asked Dick.
+
+“It's a narrow stream, but deep, and crossed by several stone bridges.
+It will be hard to force a crossing here, but further up it can be done
+with ease since we outnumber Lee so much that we can overlap him by far.
+I have my information from Shepard, and he makes no mistakes. There is
+a church, too, on the upper part of the peninsula, a little church
+belonging to an order called the Dunkards.”
+
+“Ah,” murmured Dick, “the little church of Shiloh!”
+
+“What do you mean by that?”
+
+“There was a little church at Shiloh, too. The battle raged all around
+it more than once. We lost it at first, but in the end we won. It's
+another good omen. We're bound to achieve a great victory, colonel.”
+
+“I hope and believe so. We've the materials with which to do it. But
+we've got to push and push hard.”
+
+The colonel raised his glasses and took a long look in front. Dick also
+had a pair and he, too, examined the country before them. It was a fine,
+rolling region and all the forest was gone, except clumps of trees here
+and there. The whole country would have been heavy with forest had it
+not been for the tramp of war.
+
+It was now nearly noon and the sunlight was brilliant and intense. The
+glasses carried far. Dick saw a line of trees which he surmised marked
+the course of the Antietam, and he saw small detachments of cavalry
+which he knew were watching the advance of the Army of the Potomac.
+Their purpose convinced him that Lee had not retreated across the
+Potomac, but that he would fight and surely lose. Dick now believed that
+so many good omens could not fail.
+
+A horseman galloped toward them. It was Shepard again, dustier than
+ever, his face pale from weariness.
+
+“What is it, Mr. Shepard?” asked Colonel Winchester.
+
+“I've just reported to General McClellan that our whole command at
+Harper's Ferry, thirteen thousand strong, surrendered early this morning
+and that Jackson with picked men has already started to join Lee!”
+
+“My God! My God!” cried the colonel. “Oh, that lost day! We ought to
+have fought yesterday and destroyed Lee, while Harper's Ferry was still
+holding out! What a day! What a day! Nothing can ever pay us back for
+the losing of it!”
+
+Dick, too, felt a sinking of the heart, but despair was not written on
+his face as it was on that of his colonel. Jackson might come, but it
+would only be with a part of his force, that which marched the swiftest,
+and the victory of the Army of the Potomac would be all the grander. The
+more enemies crushed the better it would be for the Union.
+
+“Why, colonel!” he exclaimed, “we can beat them anyhow!”
+
+“That's so, my lad, so we can! And so we will! It was childish of me to
+talk as I did. Here, Johnson, blow your best on that trumpet. I want our
+regiment to be the first to reach the Antietam.”
+
+Johnson blew a long and mellow tune and the Winchester regiment swung
+forward at a more rapid gait. The weather, after a day or two of
+coolness, had grown intensely hot again, and the noon sun poured down
+upon them sheaves of fiery rays. Dick looked back, and he saw once more
+that vast billowing cloud of dust made by the marching army. But in
+front he saw only quiet and peace, save for a few distant horsemen who
+seemed to be riding at random.
+
+“There's a little town called Sharpsburg in the peninsula formed by
+the Potomac and the Antietam,” said Shepard, who stayed with them, his
+immediate work done, “and the Potomac being very low, owing to the
+dry season, there is one ford by which Lee can cross and go back to
+Virginia. But he isn't going to cross without a battle, that's sure.
+The rebels are flushed with victory, they think they have the greatest
+leaders ever born and they believe, despite the disparity of numbers,
+that they can beat us.”
+
+“And I believe they can't,” said Dick.
+
+“If it were not for that lost day we'd have 'em beaten now,” said
+Shepard, “and we'd be marching against Jackson.”
+
+The regiment in its swift advance now came nearer to the Antietam, the
+narrow but deep creek between its high banks. One or two shots from the
+far side warned them to come more slowly, and Colonel Winchester drew
+his men up on a knoll, waiting for the rest of the army to advance.
+
+Dick put his glasses to his eyes, and slowly swept a wide curve on the
+peninsula of Antietam. Great armies drawn up for battle were a spectacle
+that no boy could ever view calmly, and his heart beat so hard that it
+caused him actual physical pain.
+
+He saw through the powerful glasses the walls of the little village of
+Sharpsburg, and to the north a roof which he believed was that of the
+Dunkard Church, of which Shepard spoke. But his eyes came back from
+the church and rested on the country around Sharpsburg. The Confederate
+masses were there and he clearly saw the batteries posted along the
+Antietam. Beyond the peninsula he caught glimpses of the broad Potomac.
+
+There lay Lee before them again, and now was the time to destroy his
+army. Jackson, even with his vanguard, could not arrive before night,
+and the main force certainly could not come from Harper's Ferry before
+the morrow. Here was a full half day for the Army of the Potomac, enough
+in which to destroy a divided portion of the Army of Northern Virginia.
+
+But Colonel Winchester raged again and again in vain. There was no
+attack. Brigade after brigade in blue came up and sat down before the
+Antietam. The cannon exchanged salutes across the little river, but
+no harm was done, and the great masses of McClellan faced the whole
+peninsula, within which lay Lee with half of his army. The Winchester
+regiment was moved far to the north, where its officers hopefully
+believed that the first attack would be made. Here they extended
+beyond Lee's line, and it would be easy to cross the Antietam and hurl
+themselves upon his flank.
+
+Despite the delay, Dick and his comrades, thrilled at the great and
+terrible panorama spread before them. The mid-September day had become
+as hot as those of August had been. The late afternoon sun was brazen,
+and immense clouds of dust drifted about. But they did not hide the view
+of the armies, arrayed for battle, and with only a narrow river between.
+
+Dick, through his own glasses saw Confederate officers watching them
+also. He tried to imagine that this was Lee and that Longstreet, and
+that one of the Hills, and the one who wore a gorgeous uniform must
+surely be Stuart. Why should they be allowed to ride about so calmly?
+His heart fairly ached for the attack. McClellan said that fifty
+thousand men were there, and that Jackson was coming with fifty thousand
+more, but Shepard, who always knew, said that they did not number more
+than twenty thousand. What a chance! What a chance! He almost repeated
+Colonel Winchester's words, but he was only a young staff officer and it
+was not for him to complain. If he said anything at all he would have to
+say it in a guarded manner and to his best friends.
+
+The Winchester regiment went into camp in a pleasant grove at the
+northern end of the Union line. Dick and his two young comrades had no
+fault to find with their quarters. They had dry grass, warm air and the
+open sky. A more comfortable summer home for a night could not be asked.
+And there was plenty of food, too. The Army of the Potomac never lacked
+it. The coffee was already boiling in the pots, and beef and pork were
+frying in the skillets. Heavenly aromas arose.
+
+Dick and his comrades ate and drank, and then lay down in the grove. If
+they must rest they would rest well. Now and then they heard the booming
+of guns, and just before dark there had been a short artillery duel
+across the Antietam, but now the night was quiet, save for the murmur
+and movement of a great army. Through the darkness came the sound of
+many voices and the clank of moving wheels.
+
+Dick asked permission for his two comrades and himself to go down near
+the river and obtained it.
+
+“But don't get shot,” cautioned Colonel Winchester. “The Confederate
+riflemen will certainly be on watch on the other side of the stream.”
+
+Dick promised and the three went forward very carefully among some
+bushes. They were led on by curiosity and they did not believe that they
+would be in any great danger. The singular friendliness which always
+marked the pickets of the hostile armies in the Civil War would prevail.
+
+It was several hundred yards down to the Antietam, and luckily the
+ribbon of bushes held out. But when they were half way to the stream a
+thick, dark figure rose up before them. Dick, in an instant, recognized
+Sergeant Whitley.
+
+“We want to get a nearer view of the enemy,” said the boy.
+
+“I'll go with you,” said the sergeant. “I'm on what may be called
+scouting duty. Besides, I've a couple of friends down there by the
+river, but on the other side.”
+
+“Friends on the other side of the Antietam. What do you mean, sergeant?”
+
+“I was scouting along there and I came across 'em. Only one in fact is
+an old acquaintance, an' he's just introduced me to the other.”
+
+“That's cryptic.”
+
+“I don't rightly know what 'cryptic' means, but I guess I don't make
+myself understood well. In my campaign on the plains against the Indians
+I had a comrade named Bill Brayton. A Tennesseean, Bill was an' a fine
+feller, too. Him an' me have bunked together many a time an' we've dug
+out of the snow together, too, after the blizzards was over. But when
+we saw the war comin' up, Bill had fool notions. Said he didn't know
+anything 'bout the right an' wrong of it, guessed there was some of each
+on each side, but whichever way his state would flop, he'd flop. Well,
+we waited. Tennessee flopped right out of the Union an' Bill flopped
+with it.
+
+“I felt powerful sorry when Bill told me good-bye, and so did he. I
+ain't seen or heard of him since 'till to-night, when I was cruisin'
+down there by the side of the river in the dark an' keepin' under cover
+of the bushes. Had no intention of shootin' anybody. Just wanted to take
+a look. I saw on the other side a dim figure walkin' up an' down, rifle
+on shoulder. Thought I noticed something familiar about it, an' the
+longer I watched the shorer I was.
+
+“At last I crept right to the edge of the bank an' layin' down lest some
+fool who didn't know the manners of our war take a pot shot at me, I
+called out, 'Bill Brayton, you thick-headed rebel, are you well an'
+doin' well?'
+
+“You ought to have seen him jump. He stopped walkin', dropped his rifle
+in the hollow of his arm, looked the way my voice come and called out,
+likewise in a loud voice: 'Who's callin' me a thick-headed rebel? Is it
+some blue-backed Yankee? You know we see nothin' of you but your backs.
+Come out in the light, an' I'll let some sense into you with a bullet.'
+
+“'Oh, no I won't,' says I, still layin' close, an' not mindin' his taunt
+'bout seein' our backs only. 'You couldn't hit me if I stood up an'
+marked the place on my chest. Nothin' will save you but them days on the
+plain in the blizzards when you was more useful with a shovel than you
+are with a rifle, 'cause to-morrow at sunrise we're goin' to cross this
+little river and tie all you fellows hand an' foot an' take you away as
+prisoners to Washington.'
+
+“That made him mighty mad, but the part 'bout the blizzards on the
+plains set him to thinkin', too. 'Who in thunderation are you?' sez he.
+'You're Bill Brayton, of Tennessee, fightin' in the rebel army, when
+you ought to know better,' says I. 'Now, who in thunderation am I?'
+'Sufferin' Moses!' says he, 'that voice grows more like his every time
+he speaks. It can't be that empty-headed galoot, Dan Whitley, who never
+knew nothin' 'bout the rights an' wrongs of the war, an' had to go off
+with the Yanks!'
+
+“'It's him an' nobody else,' says I, as I rose right up an' stood there
+on the bank, 'an' mighty glad am I to see you Bill, an' to know that
+your fool head ain't knocked off by a cannon ball.' He shorely jumped
+up an' down with pleasure an' he called back: 'The good Lord certainly
+watches over them that ain't got any sense. Dan, you flat-headed,
+hump-backed, round-shouldered, thin-chested, knock-kneed, club-footed
+son of a gun, I was never so glad to see anybody before in my life.'
+
+“His eyes were shinin' with delight an' I know mine was, too. Reunions
+of old friends who for all each know have been dead a year or two, clean
+blowed to pieces by shells, or shot through by a hundred rifle bullets
+are powerful affectin'. He come down to the edge of the river an' he
+shot questions across to me, an' I shot questions at him, an' I felt
+as if a brother had riz from the dead. An' as we can't shake hands we
+reaches out the muzzles of our guns and shakes them towards each other
+in the most friendly way. Then another picket comes up, fellow by name
+of Henderson, from Mississippi. Bill introduces him to his good old pal,
+an' we three have a friendly talk. Guess they're down there yet, if you
+want to see 'em. I liked that fellow, Henderson, too, though he was a
+powerful boaster.”
+
+“All right,” said Dick. “Lead on, but don't get us shot.”
+
+They went cautiously through the bushes to the bank of the river, and
+then the sergeant blew softly between his fingers. Two figures at once
+appeared on the other side, and Sergeant Whitley and the boys rose up.
+
+“Mr. Brayton and Mr. Henderson,” said the sergeant politely, “I want to
+introduce my friends, Lieutenant Mason, Lieutenant Warner and Lieutenant
+Pennington.”
+
+“Movin' in mighty good comp'ny, though young, Dan,” said Brayton, who
+was about Whitley's age and build.
+
+“They're officers, an' they're young, as you say,” said Whitley, “but
+they're good ones.”
+
+“Them's the kind we eat alive, when we ain't got anything else to eat,”
+ said the Mississippian, a very tall, sallow and youngish man. “We're
+never too strong on rations, and when I eat prisoners I like 'em under
+twenty the best. They ain't had time to get tough. I speak right now for
+that yellow-haired one in the middle.”
+
+“You can't swallow me,” said Pennington, good naturedly. “I'll just turn
+myself crossways and stick in your throat.”
+
+“What are you fellows after around here, anyway?” continued the
+Mississippian. “The weather's hot an' we all want to go in swimmin'
+to-morrow, bein' as we have two rivers handy. Shore as you live if you
+get to botherin' us we'll hurt you.”
+
+“You won't hurt us,” said Dick, “because to-morrow we're going to
+surround you and drive you into a coop.”
+
+“Drive us in a coop. See here, Yank, you're gettin' excited. Do you know
+how many men we have here waitin' for you? Of course you don't. Why,
+it's four hundred thousand, ain't it, Bill?”
+
+“No, it's just two hundred thousand. I don't believe in lyin' fur
+effect, Jim.”
+
+“I ain't lyin'. There's two hundred thousand men. Then there's Bobby
+Lee. That's a hundred thousand more, which makes three hundred thousand.
+Then there's Stonewall Jackson, who's another hundred thousand, which
+brings the figures up to exactly what I said, four hundred thousand.
+Now, ain't I right, Bill?”
+
+“You shorely are, Jim. I was a fool for countin' the way I did. Will you
+overlook it this time?”
+
+“Wa'al, I will this time, but be shore you don't do it ag'in. Now, see
+here, you Yanks: we like you well enough. You're friends of Bill, who
+is a friend of me. Just you take my advice an' go home. Start to-night
+while the weather is warm, an' the roads are good. If you're afraid of
+our chasin' you we'll give you a runnin' start of a hunderd miles.”
+
+“Wa'al now, that's right kind of you,” said Whitley. “I for one might
+take your advice, but I was froze up so much in them wild mountains an'
+plains of the northwest that I like to go south when the winter's comin'
+on. It's hot now, all right, but in two months the chilly blasts will be
+seekin' my marrow.”
+
+“I was speakin' for your own good,” said the Mississippian gravely.
+“Anyway, you won't be troubled by the cold weather 'cause if you don't
+go back into the no'th where you belong, we'll be takin' you a prisoner
+way down south, where you don't belong. But you could have a good time
+there. We won't treat you bad. There's fine huntin' for b'ars in the
+canebrake an' the rivers an' bayous are full of fish. Your captivity
+won't be downright painful on you.”
+
+“Glad to get your welcome, Mr. Henderson,” said Whitley, “'cause we've
+heard a lot 'bout the hospitality of Mississippi, an' we're shorely
+goin' to stretch it. I'm comin', an' I'm bringin' a couple of hundred
+thousand fellers 'bout my size with me. Funny thing, we'll all wear blue
+coats just alike. Think you'd find room for us?”
+
+“Plenty of it. What was it the feller said--we welcome you with bloody
+hands to hospitable graves--but we ain't feelin' that way to-night. Got
+a plug of terbacker?”
+
+The sergeant took out a square of tobacco, cut it in exact halves with
+his pocket knife, and tossed one-half across the Antietam, where it was
+deftly caught by the Mississippian.
+
+“Thanks mightily,” said Henderson. “Mr. Commissary Banks used to supply
+us with good things, then it was Mr. Commissary Pope, and now I reckon
+it'll be Mr. Commissary McClellan. Say, how many fellers have you got
+over thar, anyway?”
+
+“When I counted 'em last night,” replied the sergeant calmly, “there was
+five hundred and twelve thousand two hundred and fifty-three infantry,
+sixty-four thousand two hundred and nineteen cavalry an' three thousand
+one hundred and seventy-five cannon, but I reckon we'll receive
+reinforcements of three hundred thousand before mornin'.”
+
+“Then we'll have more prisoners than I thought. Are you shore them three
+hundred thousand reinforcements will get up in time?”
+
+“Quite shore. I've sent 'em word to hurry.”
+
+“Then we'll have to take them, too.”
+
+“Time you fellers quit your talkin',” said Brayton, “a major or a
+colonel may come strollin' 'long here any minute, an' they don't like
+for us fellers to be too friendly. Dan, I'm powerful glad to see you
+ag'in, an' I hope you won't get killed. I've a feelin' that you an'
+me will be ridin' over the plains once more some day, an' we won't be
+fightin' each other. We'll be fightin' Sioux an' Cheyennes an' all that
+red lot, just as we did in the old days. Here's a good-bye.”
+
+He thrust out the muzzle of his gun, an' Whitley thrust out his. Then
+they shook them at each other in friendly salute, and the little group
+moved away from the river bank.
+
+“I'm glad I've seen Bill again,” said the sergeant. “Fine feller an'
+that Mississippian with him was quaint like. Mighty big bragger.”
+
+“You did some bragging yourself, sergeant,” said Dick.
+
+“So I did, but it was in answer to Henderson. I'm glad we had that
+little talk across the river. It was a friendly thing to do, before we
+fall to slaughterin' one another.”
+
+They rejoined Colonel Winchester, and Dick worked through a part of the
+night carrying orders and other messages. A great movement was going
+on. Fresh troops were continually coming up, but there was little noise
+beyond the Antietam, although he saw the light of many fires.
+
+He slept after midnight and awoke at dawn, expecting to go at once into
+battle. Some of the troops were moved about and Colonel Winchester began
+to rage again.
+
+“Good God! can it be possible!” he exclaimed, “that another day will be
+lost? Is General McClellan instead of General Lee waiting for Jackson to
+come? With the enemy safely within the trap, we refuse to shut it down
+upon him!”
+
+He said these things only within the hearing of Dick, who he knew would
+never repeat them. But he was not the only one to complain. Men higher
+in rank than he, generals, spoke their discontent openly. Why would
+not McClellan attack? He had claimed that the rebels had two hundred
+thousand men at the Seven Days, when it was well known that half that
+figure or less was their true number. Why should he persist in seeing
+the enemy double, and even if Lee did have fifty thousand men on the
+other side of the Antietam, instead of the twenty thousand the scouts
+assigned to him, the Army of the Potomac could defeat him before Jackson
+came up.
+
+But McClellan was overcome by caution. In spite of everything he doubled
+or tripled the numbers of the enemy. Personally brave beyond dispute, he
+feared for his army. The position of the enemy on the peninsula seemed
+to have changed somewhat through the night. He believed that the
+batteries had been moved about, and he telegraphed to Washington that
+he must find out exactly the disposition of Lee's forces and where the
+fords were.
+
+Meanwhile the long, hot hours dragged on. The dust trodden up by so many
+marching feet was terrible. It hung in clouds and added a sting to the
+burning heat. Dick was wild with impatience, but he knew that it was not
+worth while to say anything. He, Warner and Pennington, for the lack of
+something else to do, lay on the dry grass, whispering and watching as
+well as they could what was going on in Sharpsburg.
+
+Meanwhile Sharpsburg itself seemed a monument to peace. It was deep in
+dust and the sun blazed on the roofs. Staff officers rode up, and when
+they dismounted they lazily led their horses to the best shade that
+could be found. Within a residence Lee sat in close conference with his
+lieutenants, Stonewall Jackson and Longstreet. Now and then, they looked
+at the reports of brigade commanders and sometimes they studied the maps
+of Maryland and Virginia. Lee was calm and confident. The odds against
+him--and he knew what they were--apparently mattered nothing.
+
+He knew the strength and spirit of his army and to what a pitch it was
+keyed by victory. Moreover, he knew McClellan, whom he had met at the
+Seven Days, and he believed, in truth he felt positive that McClellan
+would delay long enough for the remainder of Jackson's troops to come
+up. Upon this belief he staked the future of the Confederacy in the
+battle to be fought there between the Potomac and the Antietam. His
+troops were worn by battles and tremendous marches. Jackson's men in
+three days had marched sixty miles, and had fought a battle at Harper's
+Ferry within that time, also, taking more than thirteen thousand
+prisoners. Never before had the foot cavalry marched so hard.
+
+The men in gray, ragged and many of them barefooted, slept in the woods
+about Sharpsburg all through the hot hours of the day. Their officers
+had told them that the drums and bugles would call them when needed, and
+they sank quietly into the deepest of slumbers. From where they lay Red
+Hill, a spur of a mountain, separated them from the Union army. It was
+only those like Dick and his comrades who mounted elevations and who
+had powerful field glasses who could see into Sharpsburg. The main Union
+force saw only the top of a church spire or two in the village. But each
+felt fully the presence of the other and knew that the battle could not
+be delayed long.
+
+Dick, in his anxiety and excitement, fell asleep. The heat and the
+waiting seemed to overpower him. He did not know how long he had slept,
+but he was awakened by the sharp call of a trumpet, and when he sprang
+to his feet Warner told him it was about four o'clock.
+
+“What's up?” he cried, as he wiped the haze of heat and dust from his
+eyes.
+
+“We're about to march,” replied Warner, “but as it's so late in the
+day I don't think it can be a general attack. Still, I know that our
+division is going to cross the Antietam. Up here the stream is narrower
+than it is down below, and the banks are not so high. Look, the colonel
+is beckoning to us! Here we go!”
+
+They sprang upon their horses, and a great corps advanced toward the
+Antietam, far above the town of Sharpsburg. The sun had declined in the
+West, and a breeze, bringing a little coolness, had begun to blow. They
+did not see much preparation for defense beyond the river, but as
+they advanced some cannon in the woods opened there. The Union cannon
+replied, and then the brigades in blue moved forward swiftly.
+
+The officers and the cavalry galloped their horses into the little river
+and Dick felt a fierce joy as the water was dashed into his face. This
+was action, movement, the attack that had been delayed so long but
+which was not yet too late. He thought nothing of the shells hissing and
+shrieking over his head, and he shouted with the others in exultation as
+they passed the fords of the Antietam and set foot on the peninsula. The
+cannon dashed after them through the stream and up the bank.
+
+A heavy rifle fire from the woods met them, but the triumphant division
+pressed on. They were held back at the edge of the woods by cannon
+aiding the rifles, and for some time a battle swayed back and forth,
+but the Confederate resistance ceased suddenly. Infantry and batteries
+disappeared in woods or beyond a ridge, and then Dick noticed that
+night was coming. The sun was already hidden by the lofty slopes of the
+western mountains, and there would be no battle that day. In another
+half hour full darkness would be upon them.
+
+But Dick felt that something had been achieved. A powerful Union force
+was now beyond the Antietam, with its feet rooted firmly in the soil
+of the peninsula. It looked directly south at the Confederate army and
+there was no barrier between. Lee would have to face at once, Hooker on
+the north and McClellan on the east across the Antietam. The Union army
+had been numerous enough to outflank him.
+
+Dick was quite sure of success now. They had lost two of the most
+precious of all days instead of one, but they had closed the gap on the
+north, through which Lee's army might march in an attempt to escape. It
+was likely, too, that the last of Jackson's men would come that way and
+the Union force would cut them off from Lee. Two entire army corps were
+now beyond the Antietam, and they should be able to do anything.
+
+The Winchester regiment lay in deep woods, and the great division
+although it had rested nearly all the day was quiet in the night. But
+some ardent souls could not rest. A group of officers, including Colonel
+Winchester and the three young members of his staff, walked forward
+through the woods, taking the chance of stray shots from sentinels or
+skirmishers. But they knew that this risk was not great.
+
+They passed near a mill, its wheels and saws silent now, and presently
+as the moon rose they saw the square white walls of a building shining
+in its light.
+
+“The Dunkard church,” said one of the officers. “I think we'd better not
+go any closer. The Johnnies must be lying thick close at hand.”
+
+“The dim light off to the right must be made by their fires,” said
+Colonel Winchester. “I wish I knew what troops they are. Jackson's
+perhaps. It's a rough country, and all these forests and ridges and
+hills will help the defense. I understand that the farms in here are
+surrounded by stone fences and that, too, will help the Johnnies.”
+
+“But we'll get 'em,” said another confidently. “The battle can't be put
+off any longer, and we're bound to smash 'em in the morning.”
+
+They remained in the darkness for a while, trying to see what was
+passing toward the Southern lines, but they could see little. There
+was some rifle firing after a while, and the occasional deep note of a
+cannon, mostly at random and the little group walked back.
+
+“I'm going to sleep, Dick,” said Warner. “I've just remembered that
+I'm an invalid and that if I overtask myself it will be a bad thing for
+McClellan to-morrow. The colonel doesn't want us any longer, and so here
+goes.”
+
+“I follow,” said Pennington. “The dry earth is good enough for me. May I
+stay on top of it for the next half century.”
+
+Warner and Pennington slept quickly, but Dick lay awake a long time,
+listening to the stray rifle shots and the distant boom of a cannon at
+far intervals. After a while, he looked at his watch and saw that it was
+midnight. It was more than an hour later when slumber overtook him,
+and while he and his comrades lay there the last of Jackson's men were
+coming with the help that Lee needed so sorely.
+
+Two divisions which had been left at Harper's Ferry started at midnight
+just as Dick was looking at his watch and at dawn they were almost to
+the Potomac. On their flank was a cavalry brigade and A. P. Hill was
+hurrying with another of infantry. Messenger after messenger from them
+came to Lee that on the fateful day they with their fourteen thousand
+bayonets would be in line when they were needed most.
+
+Few of those who fought for the Lost Cause ever cherished anything more
+vividly than those hours between midnight and the next noon when they
+marched at the double quick across hill and valley and forest to the
+relief of their great commander. There was little need for the officers
+to urge them on, and at sunrise the rolling of the cannon was calling to
+them to come faster, always faster.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. ANTIETAM
+
+
+Dick arose at the first flash of dawn. All the men of the Winchester
+regiment were on their feet. The officers had sent their horses to the
+rear, knowing that they would be worse than useless among the rocks and
+in the forest in front of them.
+
+A mist arising from the two rivers floated over everything, but Dick
+knew that the battle was at hand. The Northern trumpets were calling,
+and in the haze in front of them the Southern trumpets were calling,
+too.
+
+The fog lifted, and then Dick saw the Confederate lines stretched
+through forest, rock and ploughed ground. Near the front was a rail
+fence with lines of skirmishers crouching behind it. As the last bit of
+mist rolled away the fence became a twisted line of flame. The fire of
+the Southern skirmishers crashed in the Union ranks, and the Northern
+skirmishers, pressing in on the right replied with a fire equally swift
+and deadly. Then came the roar of the Southern cannon, well aimed and
+tearing gaps in the Union lines.
+
+“Its time to charge!” exclaimed Pennington. “It scares me, standing
+still under the enemy's fire, but I forget about it when I'm rushing
+forward.”
+
+The Winchester regiment did not move for the present, although the
+battle thickened and deepened about it. The fire of the Confederate
+cannon was heavy and terrible, yet the Union masses on either wing had
+begun to press forward. Hooker hurled in two divisions, one under Meade,
+and one under Doubleday, and another came up behind to support them.
+The western men were here and remembering how they had been decimated at
+Manassas, they fought for revenge as well as patriotism.
+
+At last the Winchester regiment in the center moved forward also. They
+struck heavy ploughed land, and as they struggled through it they met a
+devastating fire. It seemed to Dick that the last of the little regiment
+was about to be blown away, but as he looked through the fire and smoke
+he saw Warner and Pennington still by his side, and the colonel a little
+ahead, waving his sword and shouting orders that could not be heard.
+
+Dick saw shining far before him the white walls of the Dunkard church,
+and he was seized with a frantic desire to reach it. It seemed to him if
+they could get there that the victory would be won. Yet they made little
+progress. The cannon facing them fairly spouted fire, and thousands of
+expert riflemen in front of them lying behind ridges and among rocks
+and bushes sent shower after shower of leaden balls that swept away the
+front ranks of the charging Union lines. The shell and the shrapnel and
+the grape and the round shot made a great noise, but the little bullets
+coming in swarms like bees were the true messengers of death.
+
+Jackson and four thousand of his veterans formed the thin line between
+the Dunkard church and the Antietam. They were ragged and worn by war,
+but they were the children of victory, led by a man of genius, and they
+felt equal to any task. Near Jackson stood his favorite young aide,
+Harry Kenton, and on the other side was the thin regiment of the
+Invincibles, led by Colonel Leonidas Talbot, and Lieutenant-Colonel
+Hector St. Hilaire.
+
+Around the church itself were the Texans under Hood, stalwart, sunburned
+men who could ride like Comanches, some of whom when lads had been
+present at San Jacinto, when the Texans struck with such terrible might
+and success for liberty.
+
+“Are we winning? Tell me, that we are winning!” shouted Dick in Warner's
+ear.
+
+“We're not winning, but we will! Confound that fog! It's coming up
+again!” Warner shouted back.
+
+The heavy fog from the Potomac and the Antietam which the early and
+burning sunrise had driven away was drifting back, thickened by the
+smoke from the cannon and rifles. The gray lines in front disappeared
+and the church was hidden. Yet the Northern artillery continued to pour
+a terrible fire through the smoke toward the point where the Confederate
+infantry had been posted.
+
+Dick heard at the same time a tremendous roar on the left, and he knew
+that the Union batteries beyond the Antietam had opened a flanking fire
+on the Southern army. He breathed a sigh of triumph. McClellan, who
+could organize and prepare so well, was aroused at last to such a point
+that he could concentrate his full strength in battle itself, and push
+home with all his might until able to snatch the reward, victory. As
+the lad heard the supporting guns across the Antietam, he suddenly found
+himself shouting with all his might. His voice could not be heard in the
+uproar, but he saw that the lips of those about him were moving in like
+manner.
+
+The two corps on the peninsula had a good leader that morning. Hooker,
+fiery, impetuous, scorning death, continually led his men to the attack.
+The gaps in their ranks were closed up, and on they went, infantry,
+cavalry and artillery. The fog blew away again and they beheld once more
+the gray lines of the Southerners, and the white wooden walls of the
+church.
+
+So fierce and overwhelming was the Northern rush that all of Jackson's
+men and the Texans were borne back, and were driven from the ridges
+and out of the woods. Exultant, the men in blue followed, their roar of
+triumph swelling above the thunder of the battle.
+
+“Victory!” cried Dick, but Warner shouted:
+
+“Look out!”
+
+The keen eyes of the young Vermonter had seen masses of infantry and
+cavalry on their flank. Hooker, fierce and impetuous, had gone too
+far, and now the Southern trumpets sang the charge. Stuart, fiery and
+dauntless, his saber flashing, led his charging horsemen, and Hill threw
+his infantry upon the Northern flank.
+
+It seemed to Dick that he was in a huge volcano of fire and smoke.
+Men who, in their calm moments, did not hate one another, glared into
+hostile eyes. There was often actual physical contact, and the flash
+from the cannon and rifles blazed in Dick's face. The Southerners
+in front who had been driven back returned, and as Stuart and Hill
+continued to beat hard upon their flanks, the troops of Hooker were
+compelled to retreat. Once more the white church faded in the mists and
+smoke.
+
+But Hooker and his generals rallied their men and advanced anew. The
+ground around the Dunkard church became one of the most sanguinary
+places in all America. One side advanced and then the other, and
+they continually reeled to and fro. Even the young soldiers knew the
+immensity of the stake. This was the open ground, elsewhere the Antietam
+separated the fighting armies. But victory here would decide the whole
+battle, and the war, too. The Northern troops fought for a triumph that
+would end all, and the Southern troops for salvation.
+
+So close and obstinate was the conflict that colonels and generals
+themselves were in the thick of it. Starke and Lawton of the South were
+both killed. Mansfield, who led one of the Northern army corps fell dead
+in the very front line, and the valiant Hooker, caught in the arms of
+his soldiers, was borne away so severely wounded that he could no longer
+give orders.
+
+Scarcely any generals were left on either side, but the colonels and
+the majors and the captains still led the men into the thick of the
+conflict. Dick felt a terrible constriction. It was as if some one were
+choking him with powerful hands, and he strove for breath. He knew that
+the masses pressed upon their flank by Stuart and Hill, were riddling
+them through and through.
+
+The Union men were giving ground, slowly, it is true, and leaving heaps
+of dead and wounded behind them, but nobody could stand the terrible
+rifle fire that was raking them at short range from side to side, and
+they were no longer able to advance. Now Dick heard once more that
+terrible and triumphant rebel yell, and it seemed to him that they were
+about to be destroyed utterly, when shell and shot began to shriek and
+whistle over their heads. The woods behind them were alive with the
+blaze of fire, and the great Union batteries were driving back the
+triumphant and cheering Confederates.
+
+The Union generals on the other side of the Antietam saw the fate that
+was about to overtake Hooker's valiant men, and Sumner, with another
+army corps, had crossed the river to the rescue, coming just in time.
+They moved up to Hooker's men and the united masses returned to the
+charge.
+
+The battle grew more desperate with the arrival of fresh troops. Again
+it was charge and repulse, charge and repulse, and the continuous
+swaying to and fro by two combatants, each resolved to win. There were
+the Union men who had forced the passes through the mountains to reach
+this field, and they were struggling to follow up those successes by
+a victory far greater, and there were the Confederates resolved upon
+another glorious success.
+
+The fire became so tremendous that the men could no longer hear orders.
+Here was a field of ripe corn, the stems and blades higher than a man's
+head, forty acres or so, nearly a quarter of a mile each way, but the
+corn soon ceased to hide the combatants from one another. The fire from
+the cannon and rifles came in such close sheets that scarcely a stalk
+stood upright in that whole field.
+
+Long this mighty conflict swayed back and forth. Dick had seen nothing
+like it before, not even at the Second Manassas. It was almost hand to
+hand. Cannons were lost and retaken by each side. Stuart, finding the
+ground too rough for his cavalry, dismounted them and put them at
+the guns. Jackson, with an eye that missed nothing, called up Early's
+brigade and hurled it into the battle. The North replied with fresh
+troops, and the combat was as much in doubt as ever. Every brigade
+commander on the Southern side had been killed or wounded. Nearly all
+the colonels had fallen, but Jackson's men still fought with a fire and
+spirit that only such a leader as he could inspire.
+
+It seemed to Dick that the whole world was on fire with the flash of
+cannon and rifles. The roar and crash came from not only in front and
+around him, but far down the side, where the main army of McClellan was
+advancing directly upon the Antietam, and the stone bridges which the
+Confederates had not found time to tear down.
+
+There stood Lee, supremely confident that if his lieutenant, Jackson,
+could not hold the Northern opening into the peninsula nobody could.
+His men, who knew the desperate nature of the crisis, said that they had
+never seen him more confident than he was that day.
+
+On the ridge just south of the village was a huge limestone bowlder,
+and Lee, field glasses in hand, stood on it. He listened a while to the
+growing thunder of the battle in the north--the Dunkard church, around
+which Jackson and Hooker were fighting so desperately, was a mile
+away--but he soon turned his attention to the blue masses across the
+Antietam.
+
+The Southern commander faced the Antietam with the hard-hitting
+Longstreet on his right, his left being composed of the forces of
+Jackson, already in furious conflict. Nothing escaped him. As he
+listened to the thunder of the dreadful battle in the north, he never
+ceased to watch the great army in front of him on the other side of the
+little river.
+
+While Hooker and his men were fighting with such desperate courage, why
+did not McClellan and the main body of the Union army move forward to
+the attack? Doubtless Lee asked himself this question, and doubtless
+also he had gauged accurately the mind of the Union leader, who always
+saw two or even three enemies where but one stood. Relying so strongly
+upon his judgment he dared to strip himself yet further and send more
+men to Jackson. A messenger brought him news that more of Jackson's men
+had come to his aid and that he was now holding the whole line against
+the attacks of Meade and Hooker and all the rest.
+
+Lee nodded and turned his glasses again toward the long blue line across
+the Antietam. McClellan himself was there, standing on a hill and also
+watching. Around him was a great division under the command of Burnside,
+and his time to win victory had come. He sent the order to Burnside to
+move forward and force the Antietam. It is said that at this moment Lee
+had only five thousand men with him, all the rest having been sent to
+Jackson, and, if so, time itself fought against the Union, as it was a
+full two hours before Burnside carried out his order and moved forward
+on the Antietam.
+
+But Dick, on the north, did not know that it was as yet only cannon
+fire, and not the charge of troops to the south and west. In truth, he
+knew little of his own part of the battle. Once he was knocked down, but
+it was only the wind from a cannon ball, and when he sprang to his feet
+and drew a few long breaths he was as well as ever.
+
+From muttered talk around him, talk that he could hear under the thunder
+of the battle, he learned that Sumner, who had come with the great
+reinforcement, was now leading the battle, with Hooker wounded and
+Mansfield dying.
+
+Sumner, as brave and daring as any, had gathered twenty thousand men,
+and they were advancing in splendid order over the wreck of the dead and
+the dying, apparently an irresistible force.
+
+Jackson, standing at the edge of a wood, saw the magnificent advance,
+and while the officers around him despaired, he did not think of
+awaiting the Northern attack, but prepared instead for an attack of his
+own. There was word that McLaws and the Harper's Ferry men had come.
+Jackson galloped to meet them, formed them quickly with his own, and
+then the Southern drums rolled out the charge. The weary veterans,
+gathering themselves anew for another burst of strength, fell with all
+their might on the Northern flank.
+
+Dick felt the force of that charge. Men seemed to be driven in upon him.
+He was hurled down, how he knew not, but he sprang up again, and then he
+saw that their advance was stopped. Long lines of bayonets advanced upon
+them, and a terrible artillery fire crashed through and through their
+ranks. Two or three thousand men in blue fell in a moment or so. Fortune
+in an instant had made a terrible change of front.
+
+Dick shouted aloud in despair as the brigades steadily gave back. The
+great Union batteries were firing over their heads again, but even they
+could not arrest the Southern advance. Their regiments were coming now
+across the shorn cornfield. Dick saw the galloping horses drawing their
+batteries up closer and around the flanks. And the rebel yell of victory
+which he had heard too often was now swelling from thousands of throats,
+as the fierce sons of the South rushed upon their foe.
+
+But the North refused to abandon the battle here. These were splendid
+troops, so tenacious and so much bent upon victory that they scarcely
+needed leaders. Sedgwick, another of their gallant generals, fell and
+was carried off the field, wounded severely. Richardson, yet another,
+was killed a little later, but heavy reinforcements arrived, and the
+Southerners were driven back in their turn.
+
+These were picked troops who met here, veterans almost all of them, and
+neither would yield. The superior weight and range of the Northern guns
+gave them an advantage in artillery, and it was used to the utmost. Dick
+did not see how men could live under such a horrible fire, but there
+were the gray lines replying, and wherever they yielded, yielding but
+little.
+
+Noon came and then one o'clock. They had been fighting since dawn, and
+a combat so impetuous and terrible could not be maintained forever,
+particularly when the awful demon of war was eating up men so fast. Many
+of the regiments on either side had lost more than half their number and
+would lose more. They were human beings, and even the unwounded began to
+collapse from mere physical exhaustion. Some dropped to the ground from
+sheer inability to stand, and as they lay there, they heard to the south
+and west the rolling thunder that told of Burnside's belated advance
+upon the Antietam.
+
+Down where Lee stood watching, the battle blazed up with extraordinary
+rapidity. The men who had been held in leash so long by McClellan were
+anxious to get at the foe. Burnside's brigades charged directly for one
+of the stone bridges, and Lee, watching from his bowlder, hurried the
+Southern troops forward to meet them. Again the Northern artillery
+proved its worth. The great batteries sent a hurricane of death over the
+heads of the men in blue and toward the town of Sharpsburg. Despite all
+the valor of the Southern veterans, the heavy masses of the Union men
+forced their way across the bridge to the peninsula. Lee's batteries and
+infantry regiments could not hold them.
+
+It seemed now that Lee's own force was to be destroyed and that
+victory was won, but fortune had in store yet another of those
+dazzling recoveries for the South. At the very moment when Lee seemed
+overwhelmed, A. P. Hill, as valiant and vigorous as the other Hill,
+arrived with the last of the Harper's Ferry veterans, having marched
+seventeen miles, almost on a dead run. They crossed the Potomac at a
+ford below the mouth of the Antietam, then crossed the Antietam on the
+lowest bridge back into the peninsula, and without waiting for orders
+rushed upon the Northern flank.
+
+The attack was so sudden and fierce that Burnside's entire division
+reeled back. Here, as in the north, the face of the battle had been
+changed in an instant. Not only could Colonel Winchester mourn over
+those lost two days, but he could mourn over every lost half hour in
+them. Had Hill come a half hour later Lee's whole center would have been
+swept away.
+
+Lee and his great lieutenants, Jackson and Longstreet, were still
+confident. Despite the disparity in numbers they had beaten back every
+attack.
+
+A. P. Hill was a man who corresponded in fire and impetuosity to Hooker.
+The number of his veterans was not so great, but their rush was so
+fierce, and they struck at such a critical time that the Northern
+brigades were unable to hold the ground they had gained. More troops
+from the dying battle on the north came to Lee's aid, and every attempt
+of McClellan to take Sharpsburg failed.
+
+Dick, fighting with his comrades on the north, knew little of what was
+passing on the peninsula in the south, but he became conscious after a
+while that the appalling fury of the battle around him was diminishing.
+He had not seen such a desperate hand-to-hand battle at either Shiloh or
+the Second Manassas, and they were terrible enough. But he felt as the
+Confederates themselves had felt, that the Southern army was fighting
+for existence.
+
+But as the day waned, Dick believed that they would never be able to
+crush Jackson. The Union troops always returned to the attack, but the
+men in gray never failed to meet it, and actual physical exhaustion
+overwhelmed the combatants. Pennington went down, and Dick dragged him
+to his feet, fearing that he was wounded mortally, but found that his
+comrade had merely dropped through weakness.
+
+The long day of heat and strife neared its close. Neither Northern
+tenacity nor Southern fire could win, and the sun began to droop over
+the field piled so thickly with bodies. As the twilight crept up the
+battle sank in all parts of the peninsula. McClellan, who had lost those
+two most precious days, and who had finally failed to make use of all
+his numbers at the same time, now, great in preparation, as usual, made
+ready for the emergency of the morrow.
+
+All the powerful and improved artillery which McClellan had in such
+abundance was brought up. The mathematical minds and the workshops of
+the North bore full fruit upon this sanguinary field of Antietam. The
+shattered divisions of Hooker, with which Dick and his comrades lay,
+were sheltered behind a great line of artillery. No less than thirty
+rifled guns of the latest and finest make were massed in one battery to
+command the road by which the South might attack.
+
+To the south the Northern artillery was equally strong, and beyond the
+Antietam also it was massed in battery after battery to protect its men.
+
+But the coming twilight found both sides too exhausted to move. The
+sun was setting upon the fiercest single day's fighting ever seen in
+America. Nearly twenty-five thousand dead or wounded lay upon the field.
+More than one fourth of the Southern army was killed or wounded, yet it
+was in Lee's mind to attack on the morrow.
+
+After night had come the weary Southern generals--those left
+alive--reported to Lee as he sat on his horse in the road. The shadows
+gathered on his face, as they told of their awful losses, and of the
+long list of high officers killed or wounded. Jackson was among the
+last, and he was gloomy. The man who had always insisted upon battle did
+not insist upon it now. Hood reported that his Texans, who had fought so
+valiantly for the Dunkard church, were almost destroyed.
+
+The scene in the darkness with the awful battlefield around them was one
+which not even the greatest of painters could have reproduced. When the
+last general had told his tale of slaughter and destruction, they sat
+for a while in silence. They realized the smallness of their army, and
+the immense extent of their losses. The light wind that had sprung
+up swept over the dead faces of thousands of the bravest men in the
+Southern army. They had held their ground, but on the morrow McClellan
+could bring into line three to one and an artillery far superior alike
+in quality, weight and numbers to theirs.
+
+The strange, intense silence lasted. Every eye was upon Lee. When the
+generals were making their reports he had shown more emotion than they
+had ever seen on his face before. Now he was quiet, but he drew his
+lips close together, his eyes shone with blue fire, and rising in his
+stirrups he said:
+
+“We will not cross the Potomac to-night, gentlemen.”
+
+Then while they still waited in silence, he said:
+
+“Go to your commands! Reform and strengthen your lines. Collect all your
+stragglers. Bring up every man who is in the rear. If McClellan wants a
+battle again in the morning, he shall have it. Now go!”
+
+Not a general said a word in objection, in fact, they did not speak
+at all, but rode slowly away, every one to his command. Yet they were,
+without exception, against the decision of their great leader.
+
+Even Stonewall Jackson did not want a second battle. He had shown
+through the doubtful conflict a most extraordinary calmness. While the
+combat in the north, where he commanded, was at its height, he had sat
+on Little Sorrel, now happily restored to him, eating from time to
+time a peach that he took from his pocket. Nothing had escaped his
+observation; he watched every movement, and noticed every rise and fall
+in the tide of success. His silence now indicated that he concurred with
+the others in his belief that the remains of the Confederate army
+should withdraw across the Potomac, but his manner indicated complete
+acquiescence in the decision of his leader.
+
+But in the north of the peninsula the remnants of either side had scarce
+a thought to bestow upon victory or defeat. It was a question that did
+not concern them for the present, so utter was their exhaustion. As
+night came and the battle ceased they dropped where they were and sank
+into sleep or a stupor that was deeper than sleep.
+
+But Dick this time did neither. His nervous system had been strained so
+severely that it was impossible for him to keep still. He had found that
+all of his friends had received wounds, although they were too slight
+to put them out of action. But the Winchester regiment had suffered
+terribly again. It did not have a hundred men left fit for service,
+and even at that it had got off better than some others. In one of the
+Virginia regiments under Longstreet only fourteen men had been left
+unhurt.
+
+Dick stood beside his colonel--Warner and Pennington were lying in a
+stupor--and he was appalled. The battle had been fought within a narrow
+area, and the tremendous destruction was visible in the moonlight,
+heaped up everywhere. Colonel Winchester was as much shaken as he, and
+the two, the man and the boy, walked toward the picket line, drawn by a
+sort of hideous fascination, as they looked upon the area of conflict.
+
+The dead lay in windrows between the two armies which were waiting to
+fight on the dawn. Dick and the colonel walked toward the field where
+the corn had been waving high that morning, and where it was now mown
+by cannon and rifles to the last stalk. In the edge of the wood the boy
+paused and grasping the man suddenly by the arm pulled him back.
+
+“Look! Look!” he exclaimed in a sharp whisper. “The Confederate
+skirmishers! The woods are full of them! They are making ready for a
+night attack!” Both he and Colonel Winchester sprang back behind a big
+tree, sheltering themselves from a possible shot. But no sound came,
+not even that of men creeping forward through the undergrowth. All they
+heard was the moaning of the wind through the foliage. They waited, and
+then the two looked at each other. The true reason for the extraordinary
+silence had occurred to both at the same instant, and they stepped from
+the shelter of the tree.
+
+Awed and appalled, the man and the boy gazed at the silent forms which
+lay row on row in the woods and in the shorn cornfield. It seemed as if
+they slept, but Dick knew that all were dead. He and Colonel Winchester
+gazed again at each other and shuddering turned away lest they disturb
+the sleep of the dead.
+
+When they returned to a position behind the guns they heard others
+coming in with equally terrible tales. A sunken lane that ran between
+the hostile lines was filled to the brim with dead. Boys, yet in
+their teens, with nerves completely shattered for the time, chattered
+hysterically of what they had seen. The Antietam was still running red.
+Both Lee and Stonewall Jackson had been killed and the whole Confederate
+army would be taken in the morning. Some said, on the other hand, that
+the Southerners still had a hundred thousand men, and that McClellan
+would certainly be beaten the next day, if he did not retreat in time.
+
+None of the talk, either of victory or defeat, made any impression upon
+Dick. His senses were too much dulled by all through which he had gone.
+Words no longer meant anything. Although the night was warm he began to
+shiver, as if he were seized with a chill.
+
+“Lie down, Dick,” said Colonel Winchester, who noticed him. “I don't
+think you can stand it any longer. Here, under this tree will do.”
+
+Dick threw himself down and Colonel Winchester, finding a blanket,
+spread it over him. Then the boy closed his eyes, and, for a while,
+phase after phase of the terrible conflict passed before him. He could
+see the white wall of the Dunkard church, the Bloody Lane, and most
+ghastly of all, those dead men in rows lying on their arms, like
+regiments asleep, but his nerves grew quiet at last, and after midnight
+he slept.
+
+Dawn came and found the two armies ready. Dick and the sad remnant
+of the Winchester regiment rose to their feet. Although food had been
+prepared for them very few in all these brigades had touched a bite the
+night before, sinking into sleep or stupor before it could be brought to
+them. But now they ate hungrily while they watched for their foes, the
+skirmishers of either army already being massed in front to be ready for
+any movement by the other.
+
+As on the morning before, a mist arose from the Potomac and the
+Antietam. The sun, bright and hot, soon dispersed it. But there was no
+movement by either army. Dick did not hear the sound of a single shot.
+Warner and Pennington, recovered from their stupor, stood beside him
+gazing southward toward the rocks and ridges, where the Confederate army
+lay.
+
+“I'm thinking,” said Warner, “that they're just as much exhausted as we
+are. We're waiting for an attack, and they're waiting for the same. The
+odds are at least ninety per cent in favor of my theory. Their losses
+are something awful, and I don't think they can do anything against us.
+Look how our batteries are massed for them.”
+
+Dick was watching through his glasses, and even with their aid he
+could see no movement within the Southern lines. Hours passed and still
+neither army stirred. McClellan counted his tremendous losses, and he,
+too, preferred to await attack rather than offer it. His old obsession
+that his enemy was double his real strength seized him, and he was not
+willing to risk his army in a second rush upon Lee.
+
+While Dick and his comrades were waiting through the long morning hours,
+Lee and Jackson and his other lieutenants were deciding whether or not
+they should make an attack of their own. But when they studied with
+their glasses the Northern lines and the great batteries, they decided
+that it would be better not to try it.
+
+When noon came and still no shot had been fired, Colonel Winchester
+shook his head.
+
+“We might yet destroy the Southern army,” he said to Dick, “but I'm
+convinced that General McClellan will not move it.”
+
+The hot afternoon passed, and then the night came with the sound of
+rumbling wheels and marching men. Dick surmised that Lee was leaving the
+peninsula, and, crossing the Potomac in to Virginia, and that therefore
+tactical victory would rest with the Northern side. The noises continued
+all night long, but McClellan made no advance, nor did he do so the next
+day, while the whole Confederate army was crossing the Potomac, until
+nearly night.
+
+But the Winchester regiment and several more of the same skeleton
+character, pushing forward a little on the morning of that day, found
+that the last Confederate soldier was gone from Sharpsburg. Colonel
+Winchester and other officers were eager for the Army of the Potomac to
+attack the Army of Northern Virginia, while it dragged itself across the
+wide and dangerous ford.
+
+But McClellan delayed again, and it was sunset when Dick saw the first
+sign of action. A strong division with cannon crossed the river and
+attacked the batteries which were covering the Southern rearguard. Four
+guns and prisoners were taken, but when Lee heard of it he sent back
+Jackson, who beat off all pursuit.
+
+Dick and his comrades did not see this last fight, which was the dying
+echo of Antietam. They felt that they had defeated the enemy's purpose,
+but they did not rejoice over any victory. The sword of Antietam had
+turned back Lee and Jackson for a time and perhaps had saved the Union,
+but Dick was gloomy and depressed that so little had been won when they
+seemed to hold so much in the hollow of their hands.
+
+This feeling spread through the whole army, and the privates, even,
+talked of it openly. Nobody could forget those precious two days lost
+before the battle. Orders No. 191 had put all the cards in their hands,
+but the commander had not played them.
+
+“I feel that we've really failed,” said Warner, as they sat beside a
+camp fire. “The Southerners certainly fought like demons, but we ought
+to have been there long before Jackson came, and we ought to have
+whipped them, even after Jackson did come.”
+
+“But we didn't,” said Pennington, “and so we've got the job to do all
+over again. You know, George, we're bound to win.”
+
+“Of course, Frank; but while we're doing it the country is being ripped
+to pieces. I'll never quit mourning over that lost chance at Antietam.”
+
+“At any rate we came off better than at the Second Manassas,” said Dick.
+“What's ahead of us now?”
+
+“I don't know,” replied Warner. “I saw Shepard yesterday, and he says
+that the Southerners are recuperating in Virginia. We need restoratives
+ourselves, and I don't suppose we'll have any important movements along
+this line for a while.”
+
+“But there'll be big fighting somewhere,” said Dick.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. A FAMILY AFFAIR
+
+
+Two days after the battle of Antietam, Dick went with Colonel Winchester
+to Washington on official duty. His nerves, shaken so severely by that
+awful battle, were not yet fully restored and he was glad of the little
+respite, and change of scene. The sights of the city and the talk of men
+were a restorative to him.
+
+The capital was undoubtedly gay. The deep depression and fear that
+had hung over it a few weeks ago were gone. Men had believed after the
+Second Manassas that Lee might take Washington and this fear was not
+decreased when he passed into Maryland on what seemed to be an invasion.
+Many had begun to believe that he was invincible, that every Northern
+commander whoever he might be, would be beaten by him, but Antietam,
+although there were bitter complaints that Lee might have been destroyed
+instead of merely being checked, had changed a sky of steel into a sky
+of blue.
+
+Washington was not only gay, it was brilliant. Life flowed fast and it
+was astonishingly vivid. A restless society, always seeking something
+new flitted from house to house. Dick, young and impressionable, would
+have been glad to share a little in it, but his time was too short. He
+went once with Colonel Winchester to the theatre, and the boy who had
+thrice seen a hundred and fifty thousand men in deadly action hung
+breathless over the mimic struggles of a few men and women on a painted
+stage.
+
+The second day after his arrival he received a letter from his mother
+that had been awaiting him there. It had come by the way of Louisville
+through the Northern lines, and it was long and full of news. Pendleton,
+she said, was a sad town in these days. All of the older boys and
+young men had gone away to the armies, and many of them had been killed
+already, or had died in hospitals. Here she gave names and Dick's heart
+grew heavy, because in this fatal list were old friends of his.
+
+It was not alone the boys and young men who had gone, wrote Mrs. Mason,
+but the middle-aged men, too. Dr. Russell had kept the Pendleton Academy
+open, but he had no pupil over sixteen years of age. There were no
+trustees, because they had all gone to the war. Senator Culver had been
+killed in the fighting in Tennessee, but she heard that Colonel Kenton
+was alive and well and with Bragg's army.
+
+The affairs of the Union, she continued, were not going well in
+Tennessee and Kentucky. The terrible Confederate cavalryman Forrest had
+suddenly raided Murfreesborough in Tennessee, where Union regiments were
+stationed, and had destroyed or captured them all. Throughout the west
+the Southerners were raising their heads again. General Bragg, it was
+said, was advancing with a strong army, and was already farther north
+than the army of General Buell, which was in Tennessee. It was said that
+Louisville, one of the largest and richest of the border cities, would
+surely fall into the hands of the South.
+
+Dick read the letter with changing and strong emotions. Amid the
+terrible struggles in the east, the west was almost blotted out of
+his mind. The Second Manassas and Antietam had great power to absorb
+attention wholly upon themselves. He had wholly forgotten for the time
+about Pendleton, the people whom he knew, and even his mother. Now
+they returned with increased strength. His memory was flooded with
+recollections of the little town, every house and face of which he knew.
+
+And so the Confederates were coming north again with a great army.
+Shiloh had been far from crushing them in the west. The letter had
+been written before the Second Manassas, and that and Lee's great fight
+against odds at Antietam would certainly arouse in them the wish for
+like achievements. He inferred that since the armies in the east were
+exhausted, the great field for action would be for a while, in the west,
+and he was seized with an intense longing for that region which was his
+own.
+
+It was not coincidence, but the need for men that made Dick's wish come
+true almost at once. A few hours after he received his letter Colonel
+Winchester found him sitting in the lobby of the hotel in which Dick had
+twice talked with the contractor. But the boy was alone this time, and
+as Colonel Winchester sat down beside him he said:
+
+“Dick, the capital has received alarming news from Kentucky. Buoyed
+up by their successes in the east the Confederacy is going to make an
+effort to secure that state. Bragg with a powerful force is already on
+his way toward Louisville, and we fear that he has slipped away from
+Buell.”
+
+“So I've heard. I found here a letter from my mother, and she told me
+all the reports from that section.”
+
+“And is Mrs. Mason well? She has not been troubled by guerillas, or in
+any other way?”
+
+“Not at all. Mother's health is always good, and she has not been
+molested.”
+
+“Dick, it's possible that we may see Kentucky again soon.”
+
+“Can that be true, and how is it so, sir?”
+
+“The administration is greatly alarmed about Kentucky and the west. This
+movement of Bragg's army is formidable, and it would be a great blow for
+us if he took Louisville. Dispatches have been sent east for help. My
+regiment and several others that really belong in the west have been
+asked for, and we are to start in three days. Dick, do you know how many
+men of the Winchester regiment are left? We shall be able to start with
+only one hundred and five men, and when we attacked at Donelson we were
+a thousand strong.”
+
+“And the end of the war, sir, seems as far off as ever.”
+
+“So it does, Dick, but we'll go, and we'll do our best. Starting from
+Washington we can reach Louisville in two days by train. Bragg, no
+matter what progress he may make across the state, cannot be there then.
+If any big battle is to be fought we're likely to be in it.”
+
+The scanty remainder of the regiment was brought to Washington and two
+days later they were in Louisville, which they found full of alarm.
+The famous Southern partisan leader, John Morgan, had been roaming
+everywhere over the state, capturing towns, taking prisoners and
+throwing all the Union communications into confusion by means of false
+dispatches.
+
+People told with mingled amusement and apprehension of Morgan's
+telegrapher, Ellsworth, who cut the wires, attached his own instrument,
+and replied to the Union messages and sent answers as his general
+pleased. It was said that Bragg was already approaching Munfordville
+where there was a Northern fort and garrison. And it was said that Buell
+on another line was endeavoring to march past Bragg and get between him
+and Louisville.
+
+But Dick found that the western states across the Ohio were responding
+as usual. Hardy volunteers from the prairies and plains were pouring
+into Louisville. While Dick waited there the news came that Bragg
+had captured the entire Northern garrison of four thousand men at
+Munfordville, the crossing of Green River, and was continuing his steady
+advance.
+
+But there was yet hope that the rapid march of Buell and the gathering
+force at Louisville would cause Bragg to turn aside.
+
+At last the welcome news came. Bragg had suddenly turned to the east,
+and then Buell arrived in Louisville. With his own force, the army
+already gathered there and a division sent by Grant from his station at
+Corinth, in Mississippi, he was at the head of a hundred thousand men,
+and Bragg could not muster more than half as many.
+
+So rapid had been the passage of events that Dick found himself a member
+of Buell's reorganized army, and ready to march, only thirteen days
+after the sun set on the bloody field of Antietam, seven hundred miles
+away. Bragg, they said, was at Lexington, in the heart of the state, and
+the Union army was in motion to punish him for his temerity in venturing
+out of the far south.
+
+Dick felt a great elation as he rode once more over the soil of his
+native state. He beheld again many of the officers whom he had seen at
+Donelson, and also he spoke to General Buell, who although as taciturn
+and somber as ever, remembered him.
+
+Warner and Pennington were by his side, the colonel rode before, and the
+Winchester regiment marched behind. Volunteers from Kentucky and other
+states had raised it to about three hundred men, and the new lads
+listened with amazement, while the unbearded veterans told them of
+Shiloh, the Second Manassas and Antietam.
+
+“Good country, this of yours, Dick,” said Warner, as they rode through
+the rich lands east of Louisville. “Worth saving. I'm glad the doctor
+ordered me west for my health.”
+
+“He didn't order you west for your health,” said Pennington. “He ordered
+you west to get killed for your country.”
+
+“Well, at any rate, I'm here, and as I said, this looks like a land
+worth saving.”
+
+“It's still finer when you get eastward into the Bluegrass,” said Dick,
+“but it isn't showing at its best. I never before saw the ground looking
+so burnt and parched. They say it's the dryest summer known since the
+country was settled eighty or ninety years ago.”
+
+Dick hoped that their line of march would take them near Pendleton, and
+as it soon dropped southward he saw that his hope had come true. They
+would pass within twenty miles of his mother's home, and at Dick's
+urgent and repeated request, Colonel Winchester strained a point and
+allowed him to go. He was permitted to select a horse of unusual power
+and speed, and he departed just before sundown.
+
+“Remember that you're to rejoin us to-morrow,” said Colonel Winchester.
+“Beware of guerillas. I hope you'll find your mother well.”
+
+“I feel sure of it, and I shall tell her how very kind and helpful
+you've been to me, sir.”
+
+“Thank you, Dick.”
+
+Dick, in his haste to be off did not notice that the colonel's voice
+quivered and that his face flushed as he uttered the emphatic “thank
+you.” A few minutes later he was riding swiftly southward over a road
+that he knew well. His start was made at six o'clock and he was sure
+that by ten o'clock he would be in Pendleton.
+
+The road was deserted. This was a well-peopled country, and he saw many
+houses, but nearly always the doors and shutters of the windows were
+closed. The men were away, and the women and children were shutting out
+the bands that robbed in the name of either army.
+
+The night came down, and Dick still sped southward with no one appearing
+to stop him. He did not know just where the Southern army lay, but he
+did not believe that he would come in contact with any of its flankers.
+His horse was so good and true, that earlier than he had hoped, he was
+approaching Pendleton. The moon was up now, and every foot of the ground
+was familiar. He crossed brooks in which he and Harry Kenton and other
+boys of his age had waded--but he had never seen them so low before--and
+he marked the tree in which he had shot his first squirrel.
+
+It had not been so many months since he had been in Pendleton, and
+yet it seemed years and years. Three great battles in which seventy or
+eighty thousand men had fallen were enough to make anybody older.
+
+Dick paused on the crest of a little hill and looked toward the place
+where his mother's house stood. He had come just in this way in the
+winter, and he looked forward to another meeting as happy. The moonlight
+was very clear now and he saw no smoke rising from the chimneys, but
+this was summer, and of course they would not have a fire burning at
+such an hour.
+
+He rode on a little further and paused again at the crest of another
+hill. His view of Pendleton here was still better. He could see more
+roofs, and walls, but he noticed that no smoke rose from any house.
+Pendleton lay very still in its hollow. On the far side he saw the white
+walls of Colonel Kenton's house shining in the moonlight. Something
+leaped in his brain. He seemed to have been looking upon such white
+walls only yesterday, white walls that stood out in a fiery haze, white
+walls that he could never forget though he lived to be a hundred.
+
+Then he remembered. The white walls were those of the Dunkard church at
+Antietam, around which the blue and the gray had piled their bodies in
+masses. The vast battlefield ranged past him like a moving panorama, and
+then he was merely looking at Pendleton lying there below, so still.
+
+Dick was sensitive and his affections were strong. He loved his mother
+with a remarkable devotion, and his friends were for all time. Highly
+imaginative, he felt a powerful stirring of the heart, at his second
+return to Pendleton since his departure for the war. Yet he was chilled
+somewhat by the strange silence hanging over the little town that he
+loved so well. It was night, it was true, but not even a dog barked at
+his coming, and there was not the faintest trail of smoke across the
+sky. A brilliant moon shone, and white stars unnumbered glittered and
+danced, yet they showed no movement of man in the town below.
+
+He shook off the feeling, believing that it was merely a sensitiveness
+born of time and place, and rode straight for his mother's house. Then
+he dismounted, tied his horse to one of the pines, and ran up the walk
+to the front door, where he knocked softly at first, and then more
+loudly.
+
+No answer came and Dick's heart sank within him like a plummet in a
+pool. He went to the edge of the walk, gathered up some gravel and threw
+it against a window in his mother's room on the second floor. That would
+arouse her, because he knew that she slept lightly in these times, when
+her son was off to the wars. But the window was not raised, and he could
+hear no sound of movement in the room.
+
+Alarmed, he went back to the front door, and he noticed that while the
+door was locked the keyhole was empty. Then his mother was gone away.
+The sign was almost infallible. Had any one been at home the key would
+have been on the inside.
+
+His heart grew lighter. There had been no violence. No roving band had
+come there to plunder. He whistled and shouted through the keyhole,
+although he did not want anyone who might possibly be passing in
+the road to hear him, as this town was almost wholly Southern in its
+sympathies.
+
+There was still no answer, and leading his horse behind one of the pine
+trees on the lawn, where it would not be observed, he went to the rear
+of the house, and taking a stick pried open a kitchen window. He had
+learned this trick when he was a young boy, and climbing lightly inside
+he closed the window behind him and fastened the catch.
+
+He knew of course every hall and room of the house, but the moment he
+entered it he felt that it was deserted. The air was close and heavy,
+showing that no fresh breeze had blown through it for days. It was
+impossible that his mother or the faithful colored woman could have
+lived there so long a time with closed doors and shuttered windows.
+
+When he passed into the main part of his home, and touched a door
+or chair, a fine dust grated slightly under his fingers. Here was
+confirmation, if further confirmation was needed. Dust on chairs
+and tables and sofas in the house in which his mother was present.
+Impossible! Such a thing could not occur with her there. It was not the
+white dust of the road or fields, but the black dust that gathers in
+closed chambers.
+
+He went up to his mother's room, and, opening one of the shutters a few
+inches, let in a little light. It was in perfect order. Everything
+was in its place. Upon the dresser was a little vase containing some
+shrivelled flowers. The water in the vase had dried up days ago, and the
+flowers had dried up with it.
+
+In this room and in all the others everything was arranged with order
+and method, as if one were going away for a long time. Dick drew a chair
+near the window, that he had opened slightly, and sat down. Much of
+his fear for his mother disappeared. It was obvious that she and her
+faithful attendant, Juliana, had gone, probably to be out of the track
+of the armies or to escape plundering bands like Skelly's.
+
+He wondered where she had gone, whether northward or southward. There
+were many places that would gladly receive her. Nearly all the people in
+this part of the state were more or less related, and with them the tie
+of kinship was strong. It was probable that she would go north, or east.
+She might have gone to Lexington, or Winchester, or Richmond, or even in
+the hills to Somerset.
+
+Well, he could not solve it. He was deeply disappointed because he had
+not found her there, but he was relieved from his first fear that the
+guerillas had come. He closed and fastened the window again, and then
+walked all through the house once more. His eyes had now grown so used
+to the darkness that he could see everything dimly. He went into his own
+room. A picture of himself that used to hang on the wall now stood on
+the dresser. He knew very well why, and he knew, too, that his mother
+often passed hours in that room.
+
+Below stairs everything was neatness and in order. He went into the
+parlor, of which he had stood in so much awe, when he was a little
+child. The floor was covered with an imported carpet, mingled brown and
+red. A great Bible lay upon a small marble-topped table in the center
+of the room. Two larger tables stood against the wall. Upon them lay
+volumes of the English classics, and a cluster of wax flowers under a
+glass cover, that had seemed wonderful to Dick in his childhood.
+
+But the room awed him no more, and he turned at once to the great
+squares of light that faced each other from wall to wall.
+
+A famous portrait painter had arisen at Lexington when the canebrake
+was scarcely yet cleared away from the heart of Kentucky. His work
+was astonishing to have come out of a country yet a wilderness, and a
+century later he is ranked among the great painters. But it is said that
+the best work he ever did is the pair of portraits that face each other
+in the Mason home, and the other pair, the exact duplicates that face
+each other in the same manner in the Kenton house.
+
+Dick opened a shutter entirely, and the light of the white moon, white
+like marble, streamed in. The sudden inpouring illuminated the room so
+vividly that Dick's heart missed a beat. It seemed, for a minute, that
+the two men in the portraits were stepping from the wall. Then his heart
+beat steadily again and the color returned to his face. They had always
+been there, those two portraits. Men had never lived more intensely than
+they, and the artist, at the instant his genius was burning brightest,
+had caught them in the moment of extraordinary concentration. Their
+souls had looked through their eyes and his own soul looking through his
+had met theirs.
+
+Dick gazed at one and then at the other. There was his great
+grandfather, Paul Cotter, a man of vision and inspiration, the greatest
+scholar the west had ever produced, and there facing him was his comrade
+of a long life-time, Henry Ware, the famous borderer, afterward the
+great governor of the state. They had been painted in hunting suits of
+deerskin, with the fringed borders and beaded moccasins, and raccoon
+skin caps.
+
+These were men, Dick's great grandfather and Harry's. An immense pride
+that he was the great-grandson of one of them suddenly swelled up in his
+bosom, and he was proud, too, that the descendants of the borderers, and
+of the earlier borderers in the east, should show the same spirit and
+stamina. No one could look upon the fields of Shiloh, and Manassas and
+Antietam and say that any braver men ever lived.
+
+He drew his chair into the middle of the room and sat and looked at them
+a long time. His steady gazing and his own imaginative brain, keyed to
+the point of excitement, brought back into the portraits that singular
+quality of intense life. Had they moved he would not have been
+surprised, and the eyes certainly looked down at him in full and ample
+recognition.
+
+What did they say? He gazed straight into the eyes of one and then
+straight into the eyes of the other, and over and over again. But the
+expression there was Delphic. He must choose for himself, as they had
+chosen for themselves, and remembering that he was lingering, when he
+should not linger, he closed and fastened the window, slipped out at the
+kitchen window and returned to his horse.
+
+He remounted in the road and rode a few paces nearer to Pendleton, which
+still lay silent in the white moonlight. He had no doubt now that many
+of the people had fled like his mother. Most of the houses must be
+closed and shuttered like hers. That was why the town was so silent.
+He would have been glad to see Dr. Russell and old Judge Kendrick and
+others again, but it would have been risky to go into the center of the
+place, and it would have been a breach, too, of the faith that Colonel
+Winchester had put in him.
+
+He crushed the wish and turned away. Then he saw the white walls of
+Colonel Kenton's house shining upon a hill among the pines beyond the
+town. He was quite sure that it would be deserted, and there was no
+harm in passing it. He knew it as well as his own home. He and Harry had
+played in every part of it, and it was, in truth, a second home to him.
+
+He rode slowly along the road which led to the quiet house. Colonel
+Kenton had all the instincts so strong in the Kentuckians and Virginians
+of his type. A portion of his wealth had been devoted to decoration and
+beauty. The white, sanded road led upward through a great park, splendid
+with oak and beech and maple, and elms of great size. Nearer the house
+he came to the cedars and clipped pines, like those surrounding his
+mother's own home.
+
+He opened the iron gate that led to the house, and tied his horse
+inside. Here was the same desolation and silence that he had beheld at
+his own home. The grass on the lawn, although withered and dry from the
+intense drought that had prevailed in Kentucky that summer, was long and
+showed signs of neglect. The great stone pillars of the portico, from
+the shelter of which Harry and his father and their friends had fought
+Skelly and his mountaineers, were stained, and around their bases were
+dirty from the sand and earth blown against them. The lawn and even the
+portico were littered with autumn leaves.
+
+Dick felt the chill settling down on him again. War, not war with
+armies, but war in its results, had swept over his uncle's home as truly
+as it had swept over his mother's. There was no sign of a human being.
+Doubtless the colored servants had fled to the Union armies, and to the
+freedom which they as yet knew so little how to use. He felt a sudden
+access of anger against them, because they had deserted a master so kind
+and just, forgetting, for the moment that he was fighting to free them
+from that very master.
+
+All the windows were dark, but he walked upon the portico and the dry
+autumn leaves rustled under his feet. He would have turned away, but
+he noticed that the front door stood ajar six or eight inches. The fact
+amazed him. If a servant was about, he would not leave it open, and if
+robbers were in the house, they would close it in order not to attract
+attention. It was a great door of massive and magnificent oak, highly
+polished, with heavy bands of glittering bronze running across it. But
+it was so lightly poised on its hinges, that, despite its great weight,
+a child could have swung it back and forth with his little finger.
+Henry Ware, who built the house after his term as governor was over, was
+always proud of this door.
+
+Dick ran his hand along one of the polished bronze bars as he had often
+done when he was a boy, enjoying the cool touch of the metal. Then
+he put his thumb against the edge of the door, and pushed it a little
+further open. Something was wrong here, and he meant to see what it was.
+He had no scruples about entering. He did not consider himself in the
+least an intruder. This was his uncle's house, and his uncle and his
+cousin were far away.
+
+The door made no sound as it swung back, and soundless, too, was Dick as
+he stepped within. It was dark in the big hall, but as he stood there,
+listening, he became conscious of a light. It proceeded from one of the
+rooms opening into the hall on the right, and a door nearly closed only
+allowed a narrow band of it to fall upon the hall floor.
+
+Dick, believing now that a robber had indeed come, drew a pistol from
+his pocket, stepped lightly across the hall and looked in at the door.
+
+He checked a cry, and it was his first thought to go away as quietly as
+he had come. He had seen a man in the uniform of a Confederate colonel,
+sitting in a chair, and staring out at one of the little side windows
+which Dick could not see from the front, and which was now open. It was
+his own uncle, Colonel George Kenton, C. S. A., his gold braided cap on
+the window sill, and his sword in its scabbard lying across his knees.
+
+But Dick changed his mind. His uncle was a colonel on one side, and he
+was a lieutenant on the other, and from one point of view it was almost
+high treason for them to meet there and talk quietly together, but from
+another it was the most natural thing in the world, commanded alike by
+duty and affection.
+
+He pushed open the door a little further and stepped inside.
+
+“Uncle George,” he said.
+
+Colonel Kenton sprang to his feet, and his sword clattered upon the
+floor.
+
+“Good God!” he cried. “You, Dick! Here! To-night!”
+
+“Yes, Uncle George, it's no other.”
+
+“And I suppose you have Yankees without to take me.”
+
+“Those are hard words, sir, and you don't mean them. I'm all alone, just
+as you were. I galloped south, sir, to see my mother, whom I found gone,
+where, I don't know, and then I couldn't resist the temptation to come
+by here and see your house and Harry's, which, as you know, sir, has
+been almost a home to me, too.”
+
+“Thank God you came, Dick,” said the colonel putting his arms around
+Dick's shoulders, and giving him an affectionate hug. “You were right. I
+did not mean what I said. There is only one other in the world whom I'd
+rather see than you. Dick, I didn't know whether you were dead or alive,
+until I saw your face there in the doorway.”
+
+It was obvious to Dick that his uncle's emotions were deeply stirred.
+He felt the strong hands upon his shoulders trembling, but the veteran
+soldier soon steadied his nerves, and asked Dick to sit down in a chair
+which he drew close beside his own at the window.
+
+“I thank God again that the notion took you to come by the house,” he
+said. “It's pleasant and cool here at the window, isn't it, Dick, boy?”
+
+Dick knew that he was thinking nothing about the window and the pleasant
+coolness of the night. He knew equally well the question that was
+trembling on his lips but which he could not muster the courage to ask.
+But he had one of his own to ask first.
+
+“My mother?” he asked. “Do you know where she has gone?”
+
+“Yes, Dick, I came here in secret, but I've seen two men, Judge Kendrick
+and Dr. Russell. The armies are passing so close to this place, and the
+guerillas from the mountains have become so troublesome, that she has
+gone to Danville to stay a while with her relatives. Nearly everybody
+else has gone, too. That's why the town is so silent. There were not
+many left anyway, except old people and children. But, Dick, I have
+ridden as far as you have to-night, and I came to ask a question which
+I thought Judge Kendrick or Dr. Russell might answer--news of those who
+leave a town often comes back to it--but neither of them could tell
+me what I wanted to hear. Dick, I have not heard a word of Harry since
+spring. His army has fought since then two great battles and many
+smaller ones! It was for this, to get some word of him, that I risked
+everything in leaving our army to come to Pendleton!”
+
+He turned upon Dick a face distorted with pain and anxiety, and the boy
+quickly said:
+
+“Uncle George, I have every reason to believe that Harry is alive and
+well.”
+
+“What do you know? What have you heard about him?”
+
+“I have not merely heard. I have seen him and talked with him. It was
+after the Second Manassas, when we were both with burial parties, and
+met on the field. I was at Antietam, and he, of course, was there, too,
+as he is with Stonewall Jackson. I did not see him in that battle, but I
+learned from a prisoner who knew him that he had escaped unwounded, and
+had gone with Lee's army into Virginia.”
+
+“I thank God once more, Dick, that you were moved to come by my house.
+To know that both Harry and you are alive and well is joy enough for one
+man.”
+
+“But it is likely, sir, that we'll soon meet in battle,” said Dick.
+
+“So it would seem.”
+
+And that was all that either said about his army. There was no attempt
+to obtain information by direct or indirect methods. This was a family
+meeting.
+
+“You have a horse, of course,” said Colonel Kenton.
+
+“Yes, sir. He is on the lawn, tied to your fence. His hoofs may now be
+in a flower bed.”
+
+“It doesn't matter, Dick. People are not thinking much of flower beds
+nowadays. My own horse is further down the lawn between the pines, and
+as he is an impatient beast it is probable that he has already dug up a
+square yard or two of turf with his hoofs. How did you get in, Dick?”
+
+“You forgot about the front door, sir, and left it open six or seven
+inches. I thought some plunderer was within and entered, to find you.”
+
+“I must have been watched over to-night when forgetfulness was rewarded
+so well. Dick, we've found out what we came for and neither should
+linger here. Do you need anything?”
+
+“Nothing at all, sir.”
+
+“Then we'll go.”
+
+Colonel Kenton carefully closed and fastened the window and door again
+and the two mounted their horses, which they led into the road.
+
+“Dick,” said the colonel, “you and I are on opposing sides, but we can
+never be enemies.”
+
+Then, after a strong handclasp, they rode away by different roads, each
+riding with a lighter heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. THROUGH THE BLUEGRASS
+
+
+Dick's horse had had a good rest, and he was fighting for his head
+before they were clear of the outskirts of Pendleton. When the road
+emerged once more into the deep woods the boy gave him the rein. It was
+well past midnight now, and he wished to reach the army before dawn.
+
+Soon the great horse was galloping, and Dick felt exhilaration as the
+cool air of early October rushed past. The heat in both east and west
+had been so long and intense, that year, that the coming of autumn was
+full of tonic. Yet the uncommon dryness, the least rainy summer and
+autumn in two generations, still prevailed. The hoofs of Dick's horse
+left a cloud of dust behind him. The leaves of the trees were falling
+already, rustling dryly as they fell. Brooks that were old friends of
+his and that he had never known to go dry before were merely chains of
+yellow pools in a shallow bed.
+
+He watered his horse at one or two of the creeks that still flowed in
+good volume, and then went on again, sometimes at a gallop. He passed
+but one horseman, a farmer who evidently had taken an unusually early
+start for a mill, as a sack of corn lay across his saddle behind him.
+Dick nodded but the farmer stared open-mouthed at the youth in the blue
+uniform who flew past him.
+
+Dick never looked back and by dawn he was with the army. He found
+Colonel Winchester taking breakfast under the thin shade of an oak, and
+joined him.
+
+“What did you find, Dick?” asked the colonel, striving to hide the note
+of anxiety in his voice.
+
+“I found all right at the house, but I did not see mother.”
+
+“What had become of her?”
+
+“I learned from a friend that in order to be out of the path of the army
+or of prowling bands she had gone to relatives of ours in Danville. Then
+I came away.”
+
+“She did well,” said Colonel Winchester. “The rebels are concentrating
+about Lexington, but the battle, I think, will take place far south of
+that city.”
+
+Before the day was old they heard news that changed their opinion
+for the time at least. A scout brought news that a division of the
+Confederate army was much nearer than Lexington; in fact, that it was
+at Frankfort, the capital of the state. And the news was heightened in
+interest by the statement that the division was there to assist in the
+inauguration of a Confederate government of the state, so little of
+which the Confederate army held.
+
+Colonel Winchester at once applied to General Buell for permission for
+a few officers like himself, natives of Kentucky and familiar with the
+region, to ride forward and see what the enemy was really doing. Dick
+was present at the interview and it was characteristic.
+
+“If you leave, what of your regiment, Colonel Winchester?” said General
+Buell.
+
+“I shall certainly rejoin it in time for battle.”
+
+“Suppose the enemy should prevent you?”
+
+“He cannot do so.”
+
+“I remember you at Shiloh. You did good work there.”
+
+“Thank you, sir.”
+
+“And this lad, Lieutenant Mason, he has also done well. But he is
+young.”
+
+“I can vouch for him, sir.”
+
+“Then take twenty of your bravest and most intelligent men and ride
+toward Frankfort. It may be that we shall have to take a part in this
+inauguration, which I hear is scheduled for to-morrow.”
+
+“It may be so, sir,” said Colonel Winchester, returning General Buell's
+grim smile. Then he and Dick saluted and withdrew.
+
+But it did not take the colonel long to make his preparations. Among his
+twenty men all were natives of Kentucky except Warner, Pennington
+and Sergeant Whitley. Two were from Frankfort itself, and they were
+confident that they could approach through the hills with comparative
+security, the little capital nestling in its little valley.
+
+They rode rapidly and by nightfall drew near to the rough Benson Hills,
+which suddenly shooting up in a beautiful rolling country, hem in the
+capital. Although it was now the third day of October the little
+party marked anew the extreme dryness and the shrunken condition of
+everything. It was all the more remarkable as no region in the world is
+better watered than Kentucky, with many great rivers, more small ones,
+and innumerable creeks and brooks. There are few points in the state
+where a man can be more than a mile from running water.
+
+The dryness impressed Dick. They had dust here, as they had had it in
+Virginia, but there it was trampled up by great armies. Here it was
+raised by their own little party, and as the October winds swept across
+the dry fields it filled their eyes with particles. Yet it was one of
+the finest regions of the world, underlaid with vitalizing limestone,
+a land where the grass grows thick and long and does not die even in
+winter.
+
+“If one were superstitious,” said Dick, “he could think it was a
+punishment sent upon us all for fighting so much, and for killing so
+many men about questions that lots of us don't understand, and that at
+least could have been settled in some other way.”
+
+“It's easy enough to imagine it so,” said Warner in his precise way,
+“but after all, despite the reasons against it, here we are fighting and
+killing one another with a persistence that has never been surpassed.
+It's a perfectly simple question in mathematics. Let x equal the anger
+of the South, let y equal the anger of the North, let 10 equal the
+percentage of reason, 100, of course, being the whole, then you have x +
+y + 10 equalling 100. The anger of the two sections is consequently x +
+y, equalling 100 - 10, or 90. When anger constitutes 90 per cent., what
+chance has reason, which is only 10 per cent., or one-ninth of anger?”
+
+“No chance at all,” replied Dick. “That has already been proved without
+the aid of algebra. Here is a man in a cornfield signaling to us. I
+wonder what he wants?”
+
+As Dick spoke, Colonel Winchester, who had already noticed the man, gave
+an order to stop. The stranger, bent and knotted by hard work on the
+farm, hurried toward them. He leaned against the fence a moment, gasping
+for breath, and then said:
+
+“You're Union men, ain't you? It's no disguise?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Colonel Winchester, “we're Union men, and it's no
+disguise that we're wearing, Malachi White. I've seen you several times
+in Frankfort, selling hay.”
+
+The farmer, who had climbed upon the fence and who was sitting on the
+top rail, hands on his knees, stared at him open-mouthed.
+
+“You've got my name right. Malachi White it is,” he said, “suah enough,
+but I don't know yours. 'Pears to me, however, that they's somethin'
+familiar about you. Mebbe it's the way you throw back your shoulders an'
+look a fellow squah in the eyes.”
+
+Colonel Winchester smiled. No man is insensible to a compliment which is
+obviously spontaneous.
+
+“I spent a night once at your house, Mr. White,” he said. “I was going
+to Frankfort on horseback. I was overtaken at dusk by a storm and I
+reached your place just in time. I remember that I slept on a mighty
+soft feather bed, and ate a splendid breakfast in the morning.”
+
+Malachi White was not insensible to compliments either. He smiled, and
+the smile which merely showed his middle front teeth at first, gradually
+broadened until it showed all of them. Then it rippled and stretched in
+little waves, until it stopped somewhere near his ears. Dick regarded
+him with delight. It was the broadest and finest smile that he had seen
+in many a long month.
+
+“Now I know you,” said Malachi White, looking intently at the colonel.
+“I ain't as strong on faces as some people, though I reckon I'm right
+strong on 'em, too, but I'm pow'ful strong on recollectin' hear'in',
+that is, the voice and the trick of it. It was fo' yea's ago when you
+stopped at my house. You had a curious trick of pronouncin' r's when
+they wasn't no r's. You'd say door, an' hour, when ev'body knowed it was
+doah, an' houah, but I don't hold it ag'in you fo' not knowin' how to
+pronounce them wo'ds. Yoh name is Ahthuh Winchestuh.”
+
+“As right as right can be,” said Colonel Winchester, reaching over and
+giving him a hearty hand. “I'm a colonel in the Union army now, and
+these are my officers and men. What was it you wanted to tell us?”
+
+“Not to ride on fuhthah. It ain't mo' than fifteen miles to Frankfort.
+The place is plum full of the Johnnies. I seed 'em thah myself. Ki'by
+Smith, an' a sma't gen'ral he is, too, is thah, an' so's Bragg, who I
+don't know much 'bout. They's as thick as black be'ies in a patch, an'
+they's all gettin ready fo' a gran' ma'ch an' display to-mo'ow when
+they sweah in the new Southe'n gove'nuh, Mistah Hawes. They've got out
+scouts, too, colonel, an' if you go on you'll run right squah into 'em
+an' be took, which I allow you don't want to happen, nohow.”
+
+“No, Malachi, I don't, nor do any of us, but we're going on and we don't
+mean to be taken. Most of the men know this country well. Two of them,
+in fact, were born in Frankfort.”
+
+“Then mebbe you kin look out fo' yo'selves, bein' as you are
+Kentuckians. I'm mighty strong fo' the Union myself, but a lot of them
+officers that came down from the no'th 'pear to tu'n into pow'ful fools
+when they git away from home, knowin' nothin' 'bout the country, an'
+not willin' to lea'n. Always walkin' into traps. I guess they've nevah
+missed a single trap the rebels have planted. Sometimes I've been so
+mad 'bout it that I've felt like quittin' bein' a Yank an' tu'nin' to a
+Johnny. But somehow I've nevah been able to make up my mind to go ag'in
+my principles. Is Gen'ral Grant leadin' you?”
+
+“No, General Buell.”
+
+“I'm so'y of that. Gen'ral Buell, f'om all I heah, is a good fightah,
+but slow. Liable to git thar, an' hit like all ta'nation, when it's a
+little mite too late. He's one of ouah own Kentuckians, an' I won't say
+anything ag'in him; not a wo'd, colonel, don't think that, but I've been
+pow'ful took with this fellow Grant. I ain't any sojah, myself, but I
+like the tales I heah 'bout him. When a fellow hits him he hits back
+ha'dah, then the fellow comes back with anothah ha'dah still, an' then
+Grant up an' hits him a wallop that you heah a mile, an' so on an' so
+on.”
+
+“You're right, Malachi. I was with him at Donelson and Shiloh and that's
+the way he did.”
+
+“I reckon it's the right way. Is it true, colonel, that he taps the
+ba'el?”
+
+“Taps the barrel? What do you mean, Malachi?”
+
+White put his hands hollowed out like a scoop to his mouth and turned up
+his face.
+
+“I see,” said Colonel Winchester, “and I'm glad to say no, Malachi. If
+he takes anything he takes water just like the rest of us.”
+
+“Pow'ful glad to heah it, but it ain't easy to get too much good watah
+this yeah. Nevah knowed such a dry season befoah, an' I was fifty-two
+yeahs old, three weeks an' one day ago yestuhday.”
+
+“Thank you, Malachi, for your warning. We'll be doubly careful, because
+of it, and I hope after this war is over to share your fine hospitality
+once more.”
+
+“You'll sho'ly be welcome an' ev'y man an' boy with you will be welcome,
+too. Fuhthah on, 'bout foah hund'ed yahds, you'll come to a path leadin'
+into the woods. You take that path, colonel. It'll be sundown soon, an'
+you follow it th'ough the night.”
+
+The two men shook hands again, and then the soldiers rode on at a brisk
+trot. Malachi White sat on the fence, looking at them from under the
+brim of his old straw hat, until they came to the path that he had
+indicated and disappeared in the woods. Then he sighed and walked back
+slowly to his house in the cornfield. Malachi White had no education,
+but he had much judgment and he was a philosopher.
+
+But Dick and the others rode on through the forest, penetrating into the
+high and rough hills which were sparsely inhabited. The nights, as it
+was now October, were cool, despite the heat and dust of the day, and
+they rode in a grateful silence. It was more than an hour after dark
+when Powell, one of the Frankforters, spoke:
+
+“We can hit the old town by midnight easy enough,” he said. “Unless
+they've stretched pretty wide lines of pickets I can lead you, sir,
+within four hundred yards of Frankfort, where you can stay under cover
+yourself and look right down into it. I guess by this good moonlight I
+could point out old Bragg himself, if he should be up and walking around
+the streets.”
+
+“That suits us, Powell,” said Colonel Winchester. “You and May lead the
+way.”
+
+May was the other Frankforter and they took the task eagerly. They were
+about to look down upon home after an absence of more than a year, a
+year that was more than a normal ten. They were both young, not over
+twenty, and after a while they turned out of the path and led into the
+deep woods.
+
+“It's open forest through here, no underbrush, colonel,” said Powell,
+“and it makes easy riding. Besides, about a mile on there's a creek
+running down to the Kentucky that will have deep water in it, no matter
+how dry the season has been. Tom May and I have swum in it many a time,
+and I reckon our horses need water, colonel.”
+
+“So they do, and so do we. We'll stop a bit at this creek of yours,
+Powell.”
+
+The creek was all that the two Frankfort lads had claimed for it. It was
+two feet deep, clear, cold and swift, shadowed by great primeval trees.
+Men and horses drank eagerly, and at last Colonel Winchester, feeling
+that there was neither danger nor the need of hurry, permitted them
+to undress and take a quick bath, which was a heavenly relief and
+stimulant, allowing them to get clear of the dust and dirt of the day.
+
+“It's a beauty of a creek,” said Powell to Dick. “About a half mile
+further down the stream is a tremendous tree on which is cut with a
+penknife, 'Dan'l Boone killed a bar here, June 26, 1781.' I found it
+myself, and I cut away enough of the bark growth with a penknife for it
+to show clearly. I imagine the great Daniel and Simon Kenton and Harrod
+and the rest killed lots of bears in these hills.”
+
+“I'd go and see that inscription in the morning,” said Dick, “if I
+didn't have a bit of war on my hands.”
+
+“Maybe you'll have a chance later on. But I'm feeling bully after
+this cold bath. Dick, I came into the creek weighing two hundred and
+twenty-five pounds, one hundred and fifty pounds of human being and
+seventy-five pounds of dust and dirt. I'm back to one hundred and fifty
+now. Besides, I was fifty years old when I entered the stream, and I've
+returned to twenty.”
+
+“That just about describes me, too, but the colonel is whistling for us
+to come. Rush your jacket on and jump for your horse.”
+
+They had stayed about a half-hour at the creek, and about two o'clock in
+the morning Powell and May led them through a dense wood to the edge of
+a high hill.
+
+“There's Frankfort below you,” said May in a voice that trembled.
+
+The night was brilliant, almost like day, and they saw the little city
+clustered along the banks of the Kentucky which flowed, a dark ribbon of
+blue. Their powerful glasses brought out everything distinctly. They saw
+the old state house, its trees, and in the open spaces, tents standing
+by the dozens and scores. It was the division of Kirby Smith that
+occupied the town, and Bragg himself had made a triumphant entry. Dick
+wondered which house sheltered him. It was undoubtedly that of some
+prominent citizen, proud of the honor.
+
+“Isn't it the snuggest and sweetest little place you ever saw?” said
+May. “Lend me your glasses a minute, please, Dick.”
+
+Dick handed them to him, and May took a long look, Dick noticed that
+the glasses remained directed toward a house among some trees near the
+river.
+
+“You're looking at your home, are you not?” he asked.
+
+“I surely am. It's that cottage among the oaks. It's bigger than it
+looks from here. Front porch and back porch, too. You go from the back
+porch straight down to the river. I've swum across the Kentucky there
+at night many and many a time. My father and mother are sure to be there
+now, staying inside with the doors closed, because they're red hot for
+the Union. Farther up the street, the low red brick house with the iron
+fence around the yard is Jim Powell's home. You don't mind letting Jim
+have a look through the glasses, do you?”
+
+“Of course not.”
+
+The glasses were handed in turn to Powell, who, as May had done, took
+a long, long look. He made no comment, when he gave the glasses back to
+Dick, merely saying: “Thank you.” But Dick knew that Powell was deeply
+moved.
+
+“It may be, lads,” said Colonel Winchester, “that you will be able
+to enter your homes by the front doors in a day or two. Evidently the
+Southerners intend to make it a big day to-morrow when they inaugurate
+Hawes, their governor.”
+
+“A governor who's a governor only when he is surrounded by an army,
+won't be much of a governor,” said Pennington. “This state refused to
+secede, and I guess that stands.”
+
+“Beyond a doubt it does,” said Colonel Winchester, “but they've made
+great preparations, nevertheless. There are Confederate flags on the
+Capitol and the buildings back of it, and I see scaffolding for seats
+outside. Are there other places from which we can get good looks, lads?”
+
+“Plenty of them,” May and Powell responded together, and they led them
+from hill to hill, all covered with dense forest. Several times they saw
+Southern sentinels on the slopes near the edge of the woods, but May and
+Powell knew the ground so thoroughly that they were always able to keep
+the little troop under cover without interfering with their own scouting
+operations.
+
+Buell had given final instructions to the colonel to come back with all
+the information possible, and, led by his capable guides, the colonel
+used his opportunities to the utmost. He made a half circle about
+Frankfort, going to the river, and then back again. With the aid of
+the glasses and the brilliancy of the night he was able to see that the
+division of Kirby Smith was not strong enough to hold the town under
+any circumstances, if the main Union army under Buell came up, and the
+colonel was resolved that it should come.
+
+It was a singular coincidence that the Southerners were making a
+military occupation of Frankfort with a Union army only a day's march
+away. The colonel found a certain grim irony in it as he took his last
+look and turned away to join Buell.
+
+A half mile into the forest and they heard the crashing of hoofs in the
+brushwood. Colonel Winchester drew up his little troop abruptly as a
+band of men in gray emerged into an open space.
+
+“Confederate cavalry!” exclaimed Dick.
+
+“Yes,” said the colonel.
+
+But the gray troopers were not much more numerous than the blue.
+Evidently they were a scouting party, too, and for a few minutes they
+stared at each other across a space of a couple of hundred yards or so.
+Both parties fired a few random rifle shots, more from a sense of duty
+than a desire to harm. Then they fell away, as if by mutual consent, the
+gray riding toward Frankfort and the blue toward the Union army.
+
+“Was it a misfortune to meet them?” asked Dick.
+
+“I don't think so,” replied Colonel Winchester. “They had probably found
+out already that our army was near. Of course they had out scouts. Kirby
+Smith, I know, is an alert man, and anyway, the march of an army as
+large as ours could not be hidden.”
+
+It was dawn again when the colonel's little party reached the Union
+camp, and when he made his report the heavy columns advanced at once.
+But the alarm had already spread about at Frankfort. The morning there
+looked upon a scene even more lively than the one that had occurred
+in Buell's camp. The scouts brought in the news that the Union army in
+great force was at hand. They had met some of their cavalry patrols in
+the night, on the very edge of the city. Resistance to the great Union
+force was out of the question, because Bragg had committed the error
+that the Union generals had been committing so often in the east. He had
+been dividing and scattering his forces so much that he could not now
+concentrate them and fight at the point where they were needed most.
+
+The division of the Southern army that occupied Frankfort hastily
+gathered up its arms and supplies and departed, taking with it the
+governor who was never inaugurated, and soon afterward the Union men
+marched in. Both May and Powell had the satisfaction of entering their
+homes by the front doors, and seeing the parents who did not know until
+then whether they were dead or alive.
+
+Dick had a few hours' leave and he walked about the town. He had made
+friends when he was there in the course of that memorable struggle over
+secession, and he saw again all of them who had not gone to the war.
+
+Harry and his father were much present in his mind then, because he had
+recently seen Colonel Kenton, and because the year before, all three of
+them had talked together in these very places.
+
+But he could not dwell too much in the past. He was too young for it,
+and the bustle of war was too great. It was said that Bragg's forces
+had turned toward the southeast, but were still divided. It was reported
+that the Bishop-General, Polk, had been ordered to attack the Northern
+force in or near Frankfort, but the attack did not come. Colonel
+Winchester said it was because Polk recognized the superior strength
+of his enemy, and was waiting until he could co-operate with Bragg and
+Hardee.
+
+But whatever it was Dick soon found himself leaving Frankfort and
+marching into the heart of the Bluegrass. He began to have the feeling,
+or rather instinct warned him, that battle was near. Yet he did not
+fear for the Northern army as he had feared in Virginia and Maryland.
+He never felt that such men as Lee and Jackson were before them. He felt
+instead that the Southern commanders were doubtful and hesitating. They
+now had there no such leaders as Albert Sidney Johnston, who fell at
+Shiloh when victory was in Southern hands and before it had time to slip
+from their grasp.
+
+So the army dropped slowly down eastward and southward through the
+Bluegrass. May and Powell had obtained but a brief glimpse of their
+home town, before they were on their way again with a purpose which had
+little to do with such peaceful things as home.
+
+Dick saw with dismay that the concentric march of the armies was
+bringing them toward the very region into which his mother had fled for
+refuge. She was at Danville, which is in the county of Boyle, and he
+heard now that the Confederate army, or at least a large division of
+it, was gathering at a group of splendid springs near a village called
+Perryville in the same county. But second thought told him that she
+would be safe yet in Danville, as he began to feel sure now that the
+meeting of the armies would be at Perryville.
+
+Dick's certainty grew out of the fact that the great springs were about
+Perryville. The extraordinary drouth and the remarkable phenomenon of
+brooks drying up in Kentucky had continued. Water, cool and fresh for
+many thousands of men, was wanted or typhoid would come.
+
+This need of vast quantities of water fresh and cool from the earth, was
+obvious to everybody, and the men marched gladly toward the springs.
+The march would serve two purposes: it would quench their thirst, and it
+would bring on the battle they wanted to clear Kentucky of the enemy.
+
+“Fine country, this of yours, Dick,” said Warner as they rode side
+by side. “I don't think I ever saw dust of a higher quality. It sifts
+through everything, fills your eyes, nose and mouth and then goes down
+under your collar and gives you a neat and continuous dust bath.”
+
+“You mustn't judge us by this phenomenon,” said Dick. “It has not
+happened before since the white man came, and it won't happen again in a
+hundred years.”
+
+“You may speak with certainty of the past, Dickie, my lad, but I don't
+think we can tell much about the next century. I'll grant the fact,
+however, that fifty or a hundred thousand men marching through a dry
+country anywhere are likely to raise a lot of dust. Still, Dickie, my
+boy, I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but if I live through this, as
+I mean to do, I intend to call it the Dusty Campaign.”
+
+“Call it what you like if in the end you call it victory.”
+
+“The dust doesn't hurt me,” said Pennington. “I've seen it as dry as
+a bone on the plains with great clouds of it rolling away behind the
+buffalo herds. There's nothing the matter with dust. Country dust is one
+of the cleanest things in the world.”
+
+“That's so,” said Warner, “but it tickles and makes you hot. I should
+say that despite its cleanly qualities, of which you speak, Frank, my
+friend, its power to annoy is unsurpassed. Remember that bath we took in
+the creek the night we went to Frankfort. Did you ever before see such
+cool running water, and Dickie, old boy, remember how much there was of
+it! It was just as deep and cool and fine after we left it.”
+
+“George,” said Dick, as he wiped his dusty face, “if you say anything
+more about the creek and its cool water this army will lose a capable
+lieutenant, and it will lose him mighty soon. It will be necessary, too,
+to bury him very far from his home in Vermont.”
+
+“Keep cool, Dickie boy, and let who will be dusty. Brooks may fail once
+in a hundred years in Kentucky, but they haven't failed in a thousand in
+Vermont. You need not remind me that the white man has been there only
+two or three hundred years. My information comes straight from a
+very old Indian chief who was the depository of tribal recollections
+absolutely unassailable. The streams even in midsummer come down as full
+and cold as ever from the mountains.”
+
+“We'll have water and plenty of it in a day or two. The scouts say that
+the Confederate force at the springs is not strong enough to withstand
+us.”
+
+“But General Buell, not knowing exactly what General Bragg intends
+with his divided force, has divided his own in order to meet him at all
+points.”
+
+“Has he done that?” exclaimed Dick aghast. Like other young officers he
+felt perfectly competent to criticize anybody.
+
+“He has, and it seems to me that when the enemy divided was the time for
+us to unite or remain united. Then we could scoop him up in detail. Why,
+Dick, with an army of sixty thousand men or so, made of such material as
+ours has shown itself to be, we could surely beat any Southern force in
+Kentucky!”
+
+“Especially as we have no Lees and Stonewall Jacksons to fight.”
+
+“Maybe General Buell has divided his force in order to obtain plenty of
+water,” said Pennington. “We fellows ought to be fair to him.”
+
+“Perhaps you're right,” said Warner, “and you're right when you say we
+ought to be fair to him. I know it will be a great relief to General
+Buell to find that we three are supporting his management of this army.
+Shall I go and tell him, Frank?”
+
+“Not now, but you can a little later on. Suppose you wait until a day or
+two after the battle which we all believe is coming.”
+
+The three boys were really in high spirits. Little troubled them but the
+dryness and the dust. They had tasted so much of defeat and drawn battle
+in the east that they had an actual physical sense of better things in
+the west. The horizons were wider, the mountains were lower, and there
+was not so much enveloping forest. They did not have the strangling
+sensation, mental only, which came from the fear that hostile armies
+would suddenly rush from the woods and fall upon their flank.
+
+Besides, there was Shiloh. After all, they had won Shiloh, and the
+coming of this very Buell who led them now had enabled them to win it.
+And Shiloh was the only great battle that they had yet really won.
+
+They camped that night in the dry fields. The Winchester regiment was a
+part of the division under McCook, while Buell with the rest of the army
+was some miles away. It was still warm, although October was now seven
+days old, and Dick had never before heard the grass and leaves rustle
+so dryly under the wind. Off in the direction of Perryville they saw
+the dim gleam of red, and they knew it came from the camp-fires of the
+Southern army. Buell had in his detached divisions sixty thousand
+men, most of them veterans and Dick believed that if they were brought
+together victory was absolutely sure on the morrow.
+
+The troops around the Winchester regiment were lads from Ohio, and they
+affiliated readily. Most of the new men were in these Ohio regiments,
+and Dick, Warner and Frank felt themselves ancient veterans who could
+talk to the recruits and give them good advice. And the recruits took
+it in the proper spirit. They looked up with admiration to those who had
+been at Shiloh, and the Second Manassas and Antietam.
+
+Dick thought their spirit remarkable. They were not daunted at all by
+the great failures in the east. They did not discount the valor of the
+Southern troops, but they asked to be led against them.
+
+“Come over here,” said one of the Ohio boys to Dick. “Ahead of us and
+on the side there's rough ground with thick woods and deep ravines. I'll
+show you something just at the edge of the woods. Bring your friends
+with you.”
+
+The twilight had already turned to night and Dick, calling Warner and
+Pennington, went with his new friend. There, flowing from under a great
+stone, shaded by a huge oak, was a tiny stream of pure cold water a
+couple of inches deep but seven or eight inches broad. Under the stone
+a beautiful basin a foot and a half across and about as deep had been
+chiselled out.
+
+“A lot of us found it here,” said the Ohio boy, “and we found, too, a
+tin cup chained to a staple driven into the stone. See, it's here still.
+We haven't broken the chain. I suppose it belongs to some farmer close
+by. The boys brought other tin cups and we drank so fast that the brook
+itself became dry. The water never got any further than the pool. I
+suppose it's just started again. Drink.”
+
+The boys drank deeply and gratefully. No such refreshing stream had ever
+flowed down their throats before.
+
+“Ohio,” said Dick, “you're a lovely, dirty angel.”
+
+“I guess I am,” said Ohio, “'cause I found the spring. It turned me from
+an old man back to a boy again. Cold as ice, ain't it? I can tell you
+why. This spring starts right at the North Pole, right under the pole
+itself, dives away down into the earth, comes under Bering Sea and then
+under British America, and then under the lakes, and then under Ohio,
+and then under a part of Kentucky, and then comes out here especially to
+oblige us, this being a dry season.”
+
+“I believe every word you say, Ohio,” said Warner, “since your
+statements are proved by the quality of the water. I could easily
+demonstrate it as a mathematical proposition.”
+
+“Don't you pay any attention to him, Ohio,” said Dick. “He's from
+Vermont, and he's so full of big words that he's bound to get rid of
+some of them.”
+
+“I'm not doubting you, Vermont,” said Ohio. “As you believe every word I
+said, I believe every word you said.”
+
+“There's nothing extraordinary about them things,” said another Ohio
+boy belonging to a different brigade, who was sitting near. “Do you know
+that we swallowed a whole river coming down here? We began swallowing it
+when we crossed the Ohio, just like a big snake swallowing a snake not
+quite so big, taking down his head first, then keeping on swallowing
+him until the last tip of his tail disappeared inside. It was a good big
+stream when we started, water up to our knees, but we formed across it
+in a line five hundred men deep and then began to drink as we marched
+forward. Of course, a lot of water got past the first four hundred lines
+or so, but the five hundredth always swallowed up the last drop.”
+
+“We marched against that stream for something like a hundred and fifty
+miles. No water ever got past us. We left a perfectly dry bed behind.
+Up in the northern part of the state not a drop of water came down the
+river in a month. We followed it, or at least a lot of us did, clean
+to its source in some hills a piece back of us. We drank it dry up to a
+place like this, only bigger, and do you know, a fellow of our company
+named Jim Lambert was following it up under the rocks, and we had to
+pull him out by the feet to keep him from being suffocated. That was
+four days ago, and we had a field telegram yesterday from a place near
+the Ohio, saying that a full head of water had come down the river
+again, three feet deep from bank to bank and running as if there had
+been a cloudburst in the hills. Mighty glad they were to see it, too.”
+
+There was a silence, but at length a solemn youth sitting near said in
+very serious tones:
+
+“I've thought over that story very thoroughly, and I believe it's a
+lie.”
+
+“Vermont,” said the first Ohio lad, “don't you have faith in my friend's
+narrative?”
+
+“I believe every word of it,” said Warner warmly. “Our friend here, who
+I see can see, despite the dim light, has a countenance which one could
+justly say indicates a doubtful and disputatious nature, wishes to
+discredit it because he has not heard of such a thing before. Now, I
+ask you, gentlemen, intelligent and fair-minded as I know you are, where
+would we be, where would civilization be if we assumed the attitude of
+our friend here. If a thing is ever seen at all somebody sees it first,
+else it would never be seen. _Quod erat demonstrandum_. You remember
+your schooldays, of course. I thank you for your applause, gentlemen,
+but I'm not through yet. We have passed the question of things seen,
+and we now come to the question of things done, which is perhaps more
+important. It is obvious even to the doubtful or carping mind that if
+a new thing is done it is done by somebody first. Others will do it
+afterward, but there must and always will be a first.
+
+“Nobody ever swallowed a river before, beginning at its mouth and
+swallowing it clean down to its source, but a division of gallant young
+troops from Ohio have done so. They are the first, and they must and
+always will be the first. Doubtless, other rivers will be swallowed
+later on. As the population increases, larger rivers will be swallowed,
+but the credit for initiating the first and greatest pure-water drinking
+movement in the history of the world will always belong to a brave army
+division from the state of Ohio.”
+
+A roar of applause burst forth, and Warner, standing up, bowed
+gracefully with his hand upon his heart. Then came a dead silence, as
+a hand fell upon the Vermonter's shoulder. Warner looked around and
+his jaw fell. General McCook, who commanded this part of the army, was
+standing beside him.
+
+“Excuse me, sir, I--” began Warner.
+
+“Never mind,” said the general. “I had come for a drink of water, and
+hearing your debate I stopped for a few moments behind a tree to listen.
+I don't know your name, young gentleman.”
+
+“Warner, sir, George Warner, first lieutenant in the regiment of Colonel
+Winchester.”
+
+“I merely wished to say, Lieutenant Warner, that I listened to your
+speech from the first word to the last, and I found it very cogent and
+powerful. As you say, things must have beginnings. If there is no
+first, there can be no second or third. I am entirely convinced by your
+argument that our army swallowed a river as it marched southward.
+In fact, I have often felt so thirsty that I felt as if I could have
+swallowed it myself all alone.”
+
+There was another roar of applause, and as a dozen cups filled with
+water were pushed at the general, he drank deeply and often, and then
+retired amid further applause.
+
+“They'll fight well for him, to-morrow,” said Dick.
+
+“No doubt of it,” said Warner.
+
+They went into the edge of the wood and sought sleep and rest. But there
+was much merry chatter first among these lads, for many of whom death
+had already spread its somber wings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. PERRYVILLE
+
+
+Dick slept very well that night. The water from the little spring,
+gushing out from under the rock, had refreshed him greatly. He would
+have rejoiced in another bath, such as one as they had luxuriated in
+that night before Frankfort, but it was a thing not be dreamed of now,
+and making the best of things as they were, he had gone to sleep among
+his comrades.
+
+The dryness of the ground had at least one advantage. They had not colds
+and rheumatism to fear, and, with warm earth beneath them and fresh air
+above, they slept more soundly than if they had been in their own beds.
+But while they were sleeping the wary Sergeant Whitley was slipping
+forward among the woods and ravines. He had received permission from
+Colonel Winchester, confirmed by a higher officer, to go on a scout, and
+he meant to use his opportunity. He had made many a scouting trip on
+the plains, where there was less cover than here, and there torture and
+death were certain if captured, but here it would only be imprisonment
+among men who were in no sense his personal enemies, and who would not
+ill-treat him. So the sergeant took plenty of chances.
+
+He passed the Union pickets, entered a ravine which led up between two
+hills and followed it for some distance. In a cross ravine he found a
+little stream of water, flowing down from some high, rocky ground above,
+and, at one point, he came to a pool several yards across and three or
+four feet deep. It was cool and fresh, and the sergeant could not resist
+the temptation to slip off his clothes and dive into it once or twice.
+He slipped his clothes on again, the whole not consuming more than five
+minutes, and then went on much better equipped for war than he had been
+five minutes before.
+
+Then he descended the hills and came down into a valley crossed by a
+creek, which in ordinary times had plenty of water, but which was now
+reduced to a few muddy pools. The Southern pickets did not reach so far,
+and save for the two tiny streams in the hills this was all the water
+that the Northern army could reach. Farther down, its muddy and detached
+stream lay within the Confederate lines.
+
+Crossing the creek's bed the sergeant ascended a wooded ridge, and now
+he proceeded with extreme caution. He had learned that beyond this ridge
+was another creek containing much more water than the first. Upon its
+banks at the crossing of the road stood the village of Perryville, and
+there, according to his best information and belief, lay the Southern
+army. But he meant to see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears,
+and thus return to McCook's force with absolute certainty.
+
+The sergeant, as he had expected, found cover more plentiful than it was
+on the plains, but he never stalked an Indian camp with more caution. He
+knew that the most of the Southern scouts and skirmishers were as wary
+as the Indians that once hunted in these woods, and that, unless he used
+extreme care, he was not likely to get past them.
+
+He came at last to a point where he lay down flat on his stomach and
+wormed himself along, keeping in the thickest shadow of woods and
+bushes. The night was bright, and although his own body was blended with
+the ground, he could see well about him. The sergeant was a very patient
+man. Life as a lumberman and then as a soldier on the plains had taught
+him to look where he was crawling. He spent a full hour worming himself
+up to the crest of that ridge and a little way down on the other side.
+In the course of the last fifteen minutes he passed directly between two
+alert and vigilant Southern pickets. They looked his way several times,
+but the sergeant was so much in harmony with the color scheme of the
+earth on which he crept, that no blame lay upon them for not seeing him.
+
+The sergeant was already hearing with his own ears. He heard these
+pickets and others talking in low voices of the Northern army and of
+their own. They knew that Buell's great force was approaching from
+different points and that a battle was expected on the morrow. He knew
+this already, but he wanted to know how much of the Confederate army lay
+in Perryville, and he intended to see with his own eyes.
+
+Having passed the first line of pickets the sergeant advanced more
+rapidly, although he still kept well under cover. Advancing thus he
+reached the bed of the creek and hid himself against the bank, allowing
+his body to drop down in the water, in order that he might feel the
+glorious cool thrill again, and also that he might be hidden to the
+neck. His rifle and ammunition he laid at the edge of the bank within
+reach. Situated thus comfortably, he used his excellent eyes with
+excellent results. He could see Perryville on his left, and also a great
+camp on some heights that ran along the creek. There were plenty of
+lights in this camp, and, despite the lateness of the hour, officers
+were passing about.
+
+It was obvious to the sergeant that many thousands of soldiers were on
+those heights, and now he wanted to hear again with his own ears. He did
+not dare go any nearer, and the water in the creek was growing cold to
+his body. But his patience was great, and still he waited, only his head
+showing above the water, and it hidden in the black gloom of the bank's
+shadows.
+
+His reward came by-and-by. A number of cavalrymen led their horses down
+to the creek to drink, and while the horses drank and then blew the
+water away from their noses, the men talked at some length, enabling the
+sergeant to pick up important scraps of information.
+
+He learned that the heights were occupied by Hardee with two divisions.
+It was the same Hardee, the famous tactician who had been one of the
+Southern generals at Shiloh. Polk was expected, but he had not yet come
+up. Bragg, too, would be there.
+
+The brave sergeant's heart thumped as he listened. He gathered that
+Polk, perhaps, could not arrive before noon, and here was a brilliant
+chance to destroy a large part of the Southern army early in the
+morning.
+
+He waited until all the cavalrymen had gone away with their horses, and
+then he crawled cautiously out of the stream. His limbs were cold and
+stiff, but his enforced exercise in crawling soon brought back their
+flexibility. He passed between the pickets again, and, when he was
+safely beyond their hearing, he rose and stretched himself again and
+again.
+
+The sergeant greatly preferred walking to crawling. Primitive men might
+have crawled, but to do so made the modern man's knees uncommonly sore.
+So he continued to stretch, to inhale great draughts of air, and to feel
+proudly that he was a man who walked upright and not a bear or a pig
+creeping on four legs through the bushes.
+
+He reached his own army not long afterward, and, walking among the
+thousands of sleeping forms, reached the tree under which Colonel
+Winchester slept.
+
+“Colonel,” he said gently.
+
+The colonel awoke instantly and sat up. Despite the dusk he recognized
+Whitley at once.
+
+“Well, sergeant?” he said.
+
+“I've been clean over the ridge to the rebel camp. I reached the next
+creek and lay on the heights just beyond it. I've seen with my own
+eyes and I've heard with my own ears. They've only two divisions there,
+though they're expectin' Polk to come up in the mornin' an' Bragg, too.
+Colonel, I'm a good reckoner, as I've seen lots of war, and they ain't
+got more `n fifteen thousand men there on the creek, while if we get all
+our divisions together we can hit `em with nigh on to sixty thousand.
+For God's sake, Colonel, can't we do it?”
+
+“We ought to, and if I can do anything, we will. Sergeant, you've done a
+great service at a great risk, and all of us owe you thanks. I shall see
+General McCook at once.”
+
+The sergeant, forgetting that he was wet to the skin, stretched himself
+in the dry grass near Dick and his comrades, and soon fell fast asleep,
+while his clothes dried upon him. But Colonel Winchester went to General
+McCook's tent and insisted upon awakening him. The general received him
+eagerly and listened with close attention.
+
+“This man Whitley is trustworthy?” he said.
+
+“Absolutely. He has had years of experience on the plains, fighting
+Sioux, Cheyennes and other Indians, and he has been with me through most
+of the war so far. There is probably no more skillful scout, and none
+with a clearer head and better judgment in either army.”
+
+“Then, Colonel, we owe him thanks, and you thanks for letting him go.
+We'll certainly bring on a battle to-morrow, and we ought to have all
+our army present. I shall send a messenger at once to General Buell with
+your news. Messengers shall also go to Crittenden, Rousseau, and the
+other generals. But you recognize, of course, that General Buell is
+the commander-in-chief, and that it is for him to make the final
+arrangements.”
+
+“I do, sir,” said the colonel, as he saluted and retired. He went back
+to the point where his own little regiment lay. He knew every man and
+boy in it, and he had known them all in the beginning, when they were
+many times more. But few of the splendid regiment with which he had
+started south a year and a half before remained. He looked at Dick and
+Warner and Pennington and the sergeant and wondered if they would be
+present to answer to the roll the next night, or if he himself would be
+there?
+
+The colonel cherished no illusions. He was not sanguine that the whole
+Union army would come up, and even if it came, and if victory should be
+won it would be dark and bloody. He knew how the Southerners fought, and
+here more so than anywhere else, it would be brother against brother.
+This state was divided more than any other, and, however the battle
+went, kindred would meet kindred. Colonel Kenton, Dick's uncle, a man
+whom he liked and admired, was undoubtedly across those ridges, and they
+might meet face to face in the coming battle.
+
+It was far into the morning now and the colonel did not sleep again. He
+saw the messengers leaving the tent of General McCook, and he knew that
+the commander of the division was active. Just what success he would
+have would remain for the morrow to say. The colonel saw the dawn come.
+The dry fields and forests reddened with the rising sun, and then the
+army rose up from its sleep. The cooks had already prepared coffee and
+food.
+
+“Show me the enemy,” said Pennington fiercely, “and as soon as I finish
+this cup of coffee, I'll go over and give him the thrashing he needs.”
+
+“He's just across those ridges, sir, and on the banks of the far creek,”
+ said Sergeant Whitley.
+
+“How do you know?”
+
+“I made a call on him last night.”
+
+“You did? And what did he say?”
+
+“I didn't send in my card. I just took a look at his front door and came
+away. He's at home, waiting and willing to give us a fight.”
+
+“Well, it's a fine day for a battle anyway. Look what a splendid sun is
+rising! And you can see the soft haze of fall over the hills and woods.”
+
+“It's not as fine a fall as usual in Kentucky,” said Dick, in an
+apologetic tone to Warner and Pennington. “It's been so dry that the
+leaves are falling too early, and the reds, the yellows and the browns
+are not so bright.”
+
+“Never mind, Dickie, boy,” said Warner consolingly. “We'll see it in a
+better year, because Pennington and I are both coming back to spend
+six months with you when this war is over. I've already accepted the
+invitation. So get ready for us, Dick.”
+
+“It's an understood thing now,” said Dick sincerely. “There go the
+trumpets, and they mean for us to get in line.”
+
+A large portion of the division was already on the way, having started
+at five o'clock, and the little Winchester regiment was soon marching,
+too. The day was again hot. October, even, did not seem able to break
+that singular heat, and the dust was soon billowing about them in
+columns, stinging and burning them. The sergeant the night before had
+taken a short cut through the hills, but the brigades, needing wide
+spaces, marched along the roads and through the fields. A portion of
+their own army was hidden from them by ridges and forest, and Dick did
+not know whether Buell with the other half of the army had come up.
+
+After a long and exhausting march they stopped, and the Winchester
+regiment and the Ohio lads concluded that they had been wrong after
+all. No battle would be fought that day. They were willing now, too, to
+postpone it, as they were almost exhausted by heat and thirst, and that
+stinging, burning dust was maddening. A portion of their line rested
+on the first creek, and they drank eagerly of the muddy water. Dick saw
+before him fields in which the corn stood thick and heavy. The fields
+were divided by hedges which cut off the view somewhat and which the
+sergeant said would furnish great ambush for sharpshooters.
+
+The men were now allowed to lie down, but most of them were still
+panting with the heat. The three boys on horseback rode with Colonel
+Winchester to the crest of a low hill, just beyond the first creek. From
+that point they clearly saw the enemy gathered in battle array along the
+second stream. Dick, with his glasses, saw the batteries, and could even
+mark the sun-browned faces of the men.
+
+“Has General Buell come?” he asked Colonel Winchester.
+
+“He has not. Not half of our army is here.”
+
+The answer was made with emphasis and chagrin. There was a report that
+Buell did not intend to attack until the following day, when he would
+have his numbers well in hand.
+
+“Under the circumstances,” said the colonel, “we have to wait. Better
+get off your horses, boys, and hunt the shade.”
+
+They rode back and obeyed. It was now getting well along into the
+afternoon. Thousands of soldiers lay on the grass in the shadiest places
+they could find. Many were asleep. Overhead the sun burned and burned in
+a sky of absolute blazing white.
+
+A cannon boomed suddenly and then another. The artillery of the two
+armies watching one another had opened at long range, but the fire was
+so distant that it did no harm. Dick and his comrades watched the shells
+in their flight, noting the trails of white smoke they left behind, and
+then the showers of earth that flew up when they burst. It was rather a
+pleasant occupation to watch them. In a way it broke the monotony of a
+long summer day.
+
+They did not know that Polk, the bishop-general, was arriving at that
+moment in the Southern camp with five thousand men. Bragg had come, too,
+but he left the command to Polk, who outranked Hardee, and the three
+together listened to the long-range cannonade, while they also examined
+with powerful glasses the Union army which was now mostly lying on the
+ground.
+
+Dick himself felt a strong temptation to sleep. The march through the
+heat that morning had been dusty and tiresome, and the warm wind that
+blew over him made his eyelids very heavy. The cannonade itself was
+conducive to slumber. The guns were fired at regular intervals, which
+created a sort of rhythm. The shells with their trailing white smoke
+ceased to interest him, and his eyelids grew heavier. It was now about
+2:30 o'clock and as his eyes were about to close a sudden shout made him
+open them wide and then spring to his feet.
+
+“Look out! Look out!” cried Sergeant Whitley, “The Johnnies are coming!”
+
+The Union forces in an instant were in line, rifles ready and eager.
+The gray masses were already charging across the fields and hills, while
+their cannon made a sudden and rapid increase in the volume of fire.
+Their batteries were coming nearer, too, and the shells hitherto
+harmless were now shrieking and hissing among their ranks, killing and
+wounding.
+
+Dick looked around him. The members of the slim Winchester regiment were
+all veterans; but thousands of the Ohio lads were recruits who had never
+seen battle before. Now shell and shot were teaching them the terrible
+realities. He saw many a face grow pale, as his own had often grown
+pale, in the first minutes of battle, but he did not see any one flinch.
+
+The Northern cannon posted in the intervals and along the edges of
+the woods opened with a mighty crash, and as the enemy came nearer the
+riflemen began to send a hail of bullets. But the charge did not break.
+It was led by Buckner, taken at Donelson, but now exchanged, and some of
+the best troops of the South followed him.
+
+“Steady! Steady!” shouted Colonel Winchester. The ranks were so close
+that he and all of his staff, having no room for their horses, had
+dismounted, and they stood now in the front rank, encouraging the men to
+meet the charge. But the rush of the Southern veterans was so sudden
+and fierce that despite every effort of valor the division gave way,
+suffering frightful losses.
+
+Two of the Union generals seeking to hold their men were killed. Each
+side rushed forward reinforcements. A stream of Confederates issued from
+a wood and flung themselves upon the Union flank. Dick was dazed with
+the suddenness and ferocity with which the two armies had closed in
+mortal combat. He could see but little. He was half blinded by the
+smoke, the flash of rifles and cannon and the dust. Officers and
+men were falling all around him. The numbers were not so great as
+at Antietam, but it seemed to him that within the contracted area of
+Perryville the fight was even more fierce and deadly than it had been on
+that famous Maryland field.
+
+But he was conscious of one thing. They were being borne back. Tears of
+rage ran down his face. Was it always to be this way? Were their numbers
+never to be of any avail? He heard some one shout for Buell, and he
+heard some one else shout in reply that he was far away, as he had been
+at Shiloh.
+
+It was true. The wind blowing away from him, Buell had not yet heard
+a sound from the raging battle, which for its numbers and the time it
+lasted, was probably the fiercest ever fought on the American continent.
+The larger Union force, divided by ridges and thick woods from the
+field, had not heard the fire of a single cannon, and did not know that
+two armies were engaged in deadly combat so near.
+
+Dick kept close to Colonel Winchester and Warner and Pennington were
+by his side. The sergeant was also near. There was no chance to give
+or send orders, and the officers, snatching up the rifles of the fallen
+soldiers, fought almost as privates. The Winchester regiment performed
+prodigies of valor on that day, and the Ohio lads strove desperately for
+every inch of ground.
+
+It seemed to Dick once that they would hold fast, when he heard in front
+a tremendous cry of: “On, my boys!” As the smoke lifted a little he saw
+that it was Colonel Kenton leading his own trained and veteran regiment.
+Colonel Winchester and Colonel Kenton, in fact, had met face to face,
+but the Southern regiment was the more numerous and the stronger.
+Winchester's men were gradually borne back and the colonel gasped to
+Dick:
+
+“Didn't I see your uncle leading on his regiment?”
+
+“Yes, it was he. It was his regiment that struck us, but he's hidden now
+by the smoke.”
+
+The Southern rush did not cease. McCook's whole division, between the
+shallow creeks was driven back, sustaining frightful losses, and it
+would have been destroyed, but the artillery of Sheridan on the flank
+suddenly opened upon the Southern victors. The Southerners whirled and
+charged Sheridan, but his defense was so strong, and so powerful was his
+artillery that they were compelled to recoil every time with shattered
+ranks.
+
+The decimated Ohio regiments beyond the creek were gathering themselves
+anew for the battle, and so were the men of Colonel Winchester, now
+reduced to half their numbers again. Then a great shout arose. A fresh
+brigade had come up to their relief, and aided by these new men they
+made good the ground upon which they stood.
+
+Another shout arose, telling that Buell was coming, and, two hours after
+the combat had opened, he arrived with more troops. But night was now at
+hand, and the sun set over a draw like that at Antietam. Forty thousand
+men had fought a battle only about three hours long, and eight thousand
+of them lay dead or wounded upon the sanguinary field. One half the
+Union army never reached the field in time to fight.
+
+As both sides drew off in the darkness, Dick shouted in triumph,
+thinking they had won a victory. A bullet fired by some retiring
+Southern skirmisher glanced along his head. There was a sudden flash of
+fire before him and then darkness. His body fell on a little slope and
+rolled among some bushes.
+
+
+The close hot night came down upon the field, and the battle, the most
+sanguinary ever fought on Kentucky soil, had closed. Like so many other
+terrible struggles of the Civil War, it had been doubtful, or almost,
+so far as the fighting was concerned. The Northern left wing had been
+driven back, but the Northern right wing had held firm against every
+attack of the enemy.
+
+Pennington, when he lay panting on the ground with the remnant of the
+Winchesters, knew little about the result of the combat. He knew that
+their own division had suffered terribly. The Ohio recruits had been cut
+almost to pieces, and the Winchester regiment had been reduced by half
+again. He was so tired that he did not believe he could stir for a long
+time. He felt no wound, but every bone ached from weariness, and his
+throat and mouth seemed to burn with smoke and dust.
+
+Pennington did not see either Dick or Warner, but as soon as he got a
+little strength into his limbs he would look for them. No doubt they
+were safe. A special providence always watched over those fellows. It
+was true that Warner had been wounded at the Second Manassas, but a
+hidden power had guided Dick to him, and he got well so fast that he was
+able to fight soon afterward at Antietam.
+
+Pennington lay still, and he heard all around him the deep breathing of
+men who, like himself, were so worn that they could scarcely move. The
+field in front of him darkened greatly, but he saw lights moving there,
+and he knew that they belonged to little parties from either army
+looking for the wounded. He began to wonder which side had won the
+battle.
+
+“Ohio,” he said to one of the Ohio lads who lay near, “did we lick the
+Johnnies, or did the Johnnies lick us?”
+
+“Blessed if I know, and I don't care much, either. Four fellows that I
+used to play with at school were killed right beside me. It was my first
+battle, and, Oh, I tell you, it was awful!”
+
+He gulped suddenly and began to cry. Pennington, who was no older than
+he, patted him soothingly on the shoulder.
+
+“I know that you were the bravest of the brave, because I saw you,” he
+said.
+
+“I don't know about that, but I do know that I can never get used to
+killing men and seeing them killed.”
+
+Pennington was surprised that Dick and Warner had not appeared. They
+would certainly rejoin their own regiment, and he began to feel uneasy.
+The last shot had been fired, the night was darkening fast and a
+mournful wind blew over the battlefield. But up and down the lines they
+were lighting the cooking fires.
+
+Pennington rose to his feet. He saw Colonel Winchester, standing a
+little distance away, and he was about to ask him for leave to look for
+his comrades, when he was startled by the appearance of a woman, a woman
+of thirty-eight or nine, tall, slender, dressed well, and as Pennington
+plainly saw, very beautiful. But now she was dusty, her face was pale,
+and her eyes shone with a terrible anxiety. Women were often seen in the
+camps at the very verge or close of battle, saying good-bye or looking
+for the lost, but she was unusual.
+
+The soldiers stood aside for her respectfully, and she looked about,
+until her gaze fell upon the colonel. Then she ran to him, seized him by
+the arm, and exclaimed:
+
+“Colonel Winchester! Colonel Winchester!”
+
+“Good heavens, Mrs. Mason! You! How did you come?”
+
+“I was at Danville, not so far from here. Of course I knew that the
+armies were about to meet for battle! And it was only two days ago that
+I heard the Winchester regiment had come west to join General Buell's
+army.”
+
+A stalwart and powerful colored woman emerged from the darkness and put
+her arm around Mrs. Mason's waist.
+
+“Don't you get too much excited, chile,” she said soothingly.
+
+Juliana stood beside her mistress, a very tower of defense, glaring at
+the soldiers about them as if she would resent their curiosity.
+
+“I thought I would come and try to see Dick,” continued Mrs. Mason. “My
+relatives sought to persuade me not to do it. They were right, I know,
+but I wanted to come so badly that I had to do it. We slipped away
+yesterday, Juliana and I. We stayed at a farmhouse last night, and this
+morning we rode through the woods. We expected to be in the camp this
+afternoon, but as we were coming to the edge of the forest we heard the
+cannon and then the rifles. Through three or four dreadful hours, while
+we shook there in the woods, we listened to a roar and thunder that I
+would have thought impossible.”
+
+“The battle was very fierce and terrible,” said Colonel Winchester.
+
+“I don't think it could have been more so. We saw a part of it, but
+only a confused and awful sweep of smoke and flame. And now, Colonel
+Winchester, where is my boy, Dick?”
+
+Colonel Winchester's face turned deadly pale, and she noticed it at
+once. Her own turned to the same pallor, but she did not shriek or
+faint.
+
+“You do not know that he is killed?” she said in a low, distinct tone
+that was appalling to the other.
+
+“I missed him only a little while ago,” said Colonel Winchester, “and
+I've been looking for him. But I'm sure he is not dead. He can't be!”
+
+“No, he can't be! I can't think it!” she said, and she looked at the
+colonel appealingly.
+
+“If you please, sir,” said Pennington, “Lieutenant Warner is missing
+also. I think we'll find them together. You remember what happened at
+the Second Manassas.”
+
+“Yes, Frank, I do remember it, and your supposition may be right.”
+
+He asked a lantern from one of the men, and whispered to Pennington
+to come. But Mrs. Mason and Juliana had been standing at strained
+attention, and Mrs. Mason inferred at once what was about to be done.
+
+“You mean to look for him on the field,” she said. “We will go with
+you.”
+
+Colonel Winchester opened his lips to protest, but shut them again in
+silence.
+
+“It is right that you should come,” he said a moment later, “but you
+will see terrible things.”
+
+“I am ready.”
+
+She seemed all the more admirable and wonderful to Colonel Winchester,
+because she did not weep or faint. The deathly pallor on her face
+remained, but she held herself firmly erect beside the gigantic colored
+woman.
+
+“Come with me, Pennington,” said Colonel Winchester, “and you, too,
+Sergeant Whitley.”
+
+The two men and the boy led the way upon the field, and the two women
+came close behind. They soon entered upon the area of conflict. The
+colonel had said that it would be terrible, but Mrs. Mason scarcely
+dreamed of the reality. It was one vast scene of frightful destruction,
+of torn and trampled earth and of dead men lying in all directions. The
+black of her faithful servant's face turned to an ashen gray, and she
+trembled more than her mistress.
+
+Colonel Winchester had a very clear idea of the line along which his
+regiment had advanced and retreated, and he followed it. But the lantern
+did not enable them to see far. As happened so often after the great
+battles of the Civil War, the signs began to portend rain. The long
+drouth would be broken, but whether by natural change or so much firing
+Colonel Winchester did not know. Despite the lateness of the season dim
+lightning was seen on the horizon. The great heat was broken by a cool
+wind that began to blow from the northwest.
+
+The five advanced in silence, the two men and the boy still leading and
+the two women following close behind. Colonel Winchester's heart began
+to sink yet farther. He had not felt much hope at first, and now he felt
+scarcely any at all. A few moments later, however, the sergeant suddenly
+held up his hand.
+
+“What is it?” asked the colonel.
+
+“I think I hear somebody calling.”
+
+“Like as not. Plenty of wounded men may be calling in delirium.”
+
+“But, colonel, I've been on battlefields before, and this sounds like
+the voice of some one calling for help.”
+
+“Which way do you think it is?”
+
+“To the left and not far off. It's a weak voice.”
+
+“We'll turn and follow it. Don't say anything to the others yet.”
+
+They curved and walked on, the colonel swinging his lantern from side to
+side, and now all of them heard the voice distinctly.
+
+“What is that?” exclaimed Mrs. Mason, speaking for the first time since
+they had come upon the field of conflict.
+
+“Some one shouting for help,” replied Colonel Winchester. “One could not
+neglect him at such a time.”
+
+“No, that is so.”
+
+“It's the voice of Lieutenant Warner, colonel,” whispered the sergeant.
+
+Colonel Winchester nodded. “Say nothing as yet,” he whispered.
+
+They walked a dozen steps farther and the colonel, swinging high the
+lantern, disclosed Warner sitting on the trunk of a tree that had been
+cut through by cannon balls. Warner, as well as they could see, was not
+wounded, but he seemed to be suffering from an overpowering weakness.
+The colonel, the sergeant and the boy alike dreaded to see what lay
+beyond the log, but the two women did not know Warner or that his
+presence portended anything.
+
+The Vermonter saw them coming, and raised his hand in a proper salute
+to his superior officer. Then as they came nearer, and he saw the white
+woman who came with them, he lifted his head, tried to straighten his
+uniform a little with his left hand, and said as he bowed:
+
+“I think this must be Mrs. Mason, Dick's mother.”
+
+“It is,” said Colonel Winchester, and then they waited a moment or two
+in an awful silence.
+
+“I don't rise because there is something heavy lying in my lap which
+keeps me from it,” said Warner very quietly, but with deep feeling.
+“After the Second Manassas, where I was badly wounded and left on the
+ground for dead, a boy named Dick Mason hunted over the field, found
+me and brought me in. I felt grateful about it and told him that if he
+happened to get hit in the same way I'd find him and bring him in as he
+had brought me.
+
+“I didn't think the chance would come so soon. Curious how things happen
+as you don't think they're going to happen, and don't happen as you
+think they're going to happen, and here the whole thing comes out in
+only a few weeks. We were driven back and I missed Dick as the battle
+closed. Of course I came to hunt for him, and I found him. Easy, Mrs.
+Mason, don't get excited now. Yes, you can have his head in your own
+lap, but it must be moved gently. That's where he's hurt. Don't tremble,
+ma'am. He isn't going to die, not by a long shot. The bullet meant to
+kill him, but finding his head too hard, it turned away, and went out
+through his hair. He won't have any scar, either, because it's all under
+the thickest part of his hair.
+
+“Of course his eyes are closed, ma'am. He hasn't come around yet, but
+he's coming fast. Don't cry on his face, ma'am. Boys never like to have
+their faces cried on. I'd have brought him in myself, but I found I
+was too weak to carry him. It's been too short a time since the Second
+Manassas for me to have got back all my strength. So I just bound up his
+head, held it in my lap, and yelled for help. Along came a rebel party,
+bearing two wounded, and they looked at me. 'You're about pumped out,'
+said one of them, 'but we'll take your friend in for you.' 'No, you
+won't,' I said. 'Why not?' said they. 'Because you're no account
+Johnnies,' I said, 'while my wounded friend and I are high-toned Yanks.'
+'I beg your pardon,' said the Johnny, who was one of the most polite
+fellows I ever saw, 'I didn't see your uniform clearly by this dim
+light, but the parties looking for the wounded are mostly going in, and
+you're likely to be left here with your friend, who needs attention.
+Better come along with us and be prisoners and give him a chance to get
+well.'
+
+“Now, that was white, real white, but I thanked him and said that as
+soon as General Buell heard that the best two soldiers in his whole army
+were here resting, he'd come with his finest ambulance for us, driving
+his horses himself. They said then they didn't suppose they were needed
+and went on. But do you know, ma'am, every one of those Johnnies, as he
+passed poor old unconscious Dick with his head in my lap, took off his
+hat.”
+
+“It was a fine thing for them to do,” said Colonel Winchester, and then
+he whispered: “I'm glad you talked that way, Warner. It helps. You see,
+she's feeling more cheerful already.”
+
+“Yes, and you see old Dick's opening his eyes. Isn't it strange that
+the first thing he should see when he opens them here on the battlefield
+should be his mother?”
+
+“A strange and happy circumstance,” said Colonel Winchester.
+
+Dick opened his eyes.
+
+“Mother!” he exclaimed.
+
+Her arms were already around him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. SEEKING BRAGG
+
+
+They took Dick to the house of his relatives, the Careys, in Danville,
+and in a few days he learned the sequel of that sudden and terrible
+storm of death at Perryville. Buell had gathered all his forces in
+the night, and in the morning had intended to attack again, but the
+Confederate army was gone, carrying with it vast stores of supplies that
+it had gathered on the way.
+
+The rains, too, had come. They had begun the morning after the battle,
+and they poured for days. In the southeast, among the mountains toward
+which Bragg had turned the head of his army, the roads were quagmires.
+Nevertheless he had toiled on and was passing through Cumberland Gap.
+Buell had gone in the other direction toward the southwest, and then
+came the news that he was relieved of his command, and that Rosecrans
+would take his place.
+
+Dick felt the call of the trumpet. He knew that his comrades were now
+down there in Tennessee with the army under Rosecrans, and he felt that
+he must join them. His mother begged him to stay. He had done enough for
+his country. He had fought in great battles, and he had narrowly escaped
+a mortal wound. He should come home, and stay safely at Pendleton until
+the war was over.
+
+But Dick, though grieving with her, felt that he must go. He would stay
+with the army until the end, and he departed for Lexington, where he
+took the train for Louisville. Thence he went southward directly by
+rail to Bowling Green, where the Northern army was encamped, with
+lines stretching as far south as Nashville, and where he received the
+heartiest of greetings from his comrades.
+
+“I knew you'd come,” said Warner. “Perhaps a man with a mother like
+yours ought to stay at home, and again he ought to come. So there you
+are, and here you are!”
+
+Dick was familiar with the country about Bowling Green. It was a part
+of the state in which he had relatives, and he had visited it more than
+once. He also saw the camps left by Buckner's men nearly a year ago,
+when they were marching southward to be taken by Grant at Donelson.
+Since he had come back to this region it seemed to him that they were
+always fighting their battles over again. Grant and Rosecrans had fought
+a terrible but victorious battle at Corinth in Mississippi, and now
+Rosecrans had come north while Grant remained in the further south. He
+was sorry it was not Grant who commanded on that line. He would have
+been glad to be under his command again, to feel that strong and sure
+hand on the reins once more.
+
+Dick stayed a while in Bowling Green, and he saw all his relatives in
+the little city. They were mostly on the other side, but they could not
+resist an ingenuous youth like Dick, and he passed some pleasant hours
+with them. For his sake they also made Warner and Pennington welcome,
+but they freely predicted a great disaster for the North. Bragg would
+come out of East Tennessee with his veterans, and they would give
+Rosecrans the defeat that he deserved. The boys held good natured
+arguments with them on this point, but all finally agreed to leave it to
+the decision of the war itself.
+
+The great dryness had now passed so completely that it seemed impossible
+such a thing ever could have been. The rains had been heavy and almost
+continuous, and the earth soaked in water. But despite chill winds and
+chill rains rumors of Southern activity came to them, and in the
+last month of the year Rosecrans gathered his forces at Nashville in
+Tennessee.
+
+Dick and his comrades enjoyed a few bright days here. The city was
+crowded with an army and those who supply it and live by it, and it was
+a center of vivid activity. Dick had letters from his mother and he
+also heard in a roundabout way that Colonel Kenton had gone through the
+battle of Perryville uninjured and was now with Bragg at Chattanooga.
+
+But the boys soon heard that despite the winter there was great activity
+in the Southern camp. Undismayed by their loss of Kentucky, the Southern
+generals meant to fight Rosecrans in Tennessee. The Confederacy had
+not been cheered by Lee's withdrawal at Antietam and Bragg's retreat at
+Perryville, and meant to strike a heavy blow for new prestige. The whole
+Confederate army, they soon heard, had moved forward to Murfreesborough,
+where it was waiting, while Forrest and Morgan, the famous cavalry
+leaders, were off on great raids.
+
+It was this absence of Forrest and Morgan with the best of the cavalry
+that put it into the mind of Rosecrans to attack at once. The thousands
+of lads in the army who were celebrating Christmas received that night
+the news that they were to march in the morning.
+
+“I've fought three great battles this year,” said Warner, “and I don't
+think they ought to ask any more of me.”
+
+“Be comforted,” said Dick. “We start to-morrow, the 26th, which leaves
+five days of the year, and I don't think we can arrange a battle in that
+time. You'll not have to whip Bragg before the New Year, George.”
+
+“Well, I'm glad of it. You can have too many battles in one year. I
+didn't get rest enough after my wound at the Second Manassas before I
+had to go in and save our army at Antietam, and then it was but a little
+time before we fought at Perryville. That wasn't as big a battle as some
+of the others, but Dick, for those mad three hours it seemed that all
+the demons of death were turned loose.”
+
+“It certainly looked like it, George, you stiff old Vermonter, and I
+don't forget that you came to save me.”
+
+“Shut up about that, or I'll hit you over the head with the butt of my
+pistol. I merely paid back, though I only paid about half of what I
+was owing to you. The chance luckily came sooner than I had hoped. But,
+Dick, what a morning to follow Christmas.”
+
+A chilly rain was pouring down. A cold fog was rising from the
+Cumberland, wrapping the town in mists. It was certainly a dreary time
+in which to march to battle, and the young soldiers rising in the gloom
+of the dawn and starting amid such weather were depressed.
+
+“Pennington,” said Warner, “will you help me in a request to our
+Kentucky friend to join us in three cheers for the Sunny South, the edge
+of which he has the good fortune to inhabit? I haven't seen the real sun
+for about a month, and I suppose that's why they call it sunny, and I'm
+informed that this big river, the Cumberland, often freezes over, which
+I suppose is the reason why they call it Southern. I hear, too, that
+people often freeze to death in North Georgia, which is further south
+than this. After this bit of business is over I'm going to forbid winter
+campaigns in the south.”
+
+“It does get mighty cold,” said Dick. “You see we're not really a
+southern people. We just lie south of the northern states and in
+Kentucky, at least, we have a lot of cold weather. Why, I've seen it
+twenty-three degrees below zero in the southern part of the state, and
+it certainly can get cold in Tennessee, too.”
+
+“I believe I'd rather have it than this awful rain,” said Pennington. “I
+don't seem to get used to these cold soakings.”
+
+“Good-bye, Nashville,” said Dick, turning about. “I don't know when
+we will have to come back, and if we do I don't know what will have
+happened before then. Good-bye, Nashville. I regret your roofs and your
+solid walls, and your dry tents and floors.”
+
+“But we're going forth to fight. Don't forget that, Dick. Remember how
+in Virginia we pined for battle, and the use of our superior numbers.
+Anyhow Rosecrans is going out to look for the enemy, but all the same,
+and between you and me, Dick, I wish it was Grant who was leading us. I
+saw a copy of the New York Times a while back, and some lines in it are
+haunting me. Here they are:
+
+     “Back from the trebly crimsoned field
+        Terrible woods are thunder-tost:
+      Full of the wrath that will not yield,
+        Full of revenge for battles lost:
+      Hark to their echo as it crost
+        The capital making faces wan:
+      End this murderous holocaust;
+        Abraham Lincoln give us a man.”
+
+“Sounds good,” said Dick, “and, George, you and Frank and I know that
+what we want is a man. We've lost big battles, because we didn't have a
+big man, who could see at once and think like lightning, to lead us. But
+we'll get him sooner or later! We'll get him. Did any other troops ever
+bear up like ours under defeats and drawn battles? Listen to 'em now!”
+
+Slow and deep and sung by many thousand men rose the rolling chorus:
+
+  “The army is gathering from near and from far;
+   The trumpet is sounding the call for the war;
+   Old Rosey's our leader, he's gallant and strong;
+   We'll gird on our armor and be marching along.”
+
+“Now,” cried Warner, “all together.” And the thundering chorus rose:
+
+  “Marching, we are marching along,
+   Gird on the armor and be marching along;
+   Old Rosey's our leader, he's gallant and strong;
+   For God and our country we are marching along.”
+
+As the mighty chorus, sung by fifty thousand men, rose and throbbed
+through the cold and rain, Dick felt his own heart throbbing in unison.
+Rosecrans might or might not be a great general, but he certainly
+was not permitting the enemy to rest easy in winter quarters at
+Murfreesborough. Dick had no doubt that they were about to meet the foe
+of Perryville face to face again.
+
+The enemies were largely the same as those of other battles in the west.
+The Northern army advanced in three divisions toward Murfreesborough.
+McCook, whose division contained the Winchester regiment, was in the
+center, General Thomas led the right wing on the Franklin road, and
+General Crittenden led the left wing. Bragg who was before them had
+nearly the same generals as at Shiloh, Hardee, Breckinridge, and the
+others.
+
+Dick knew that the advance of the Northern army would be seen at once.
+This was the country of the enemy. The forces of the Union held only
+the ground on which they were camped. Thousands of hostile eyes were
+watching Rosecrans, and, even if Bragg himself were lax, any movement
+by the army from Nashville would be reported at once to the army in
+Murfreesborough. But they had a vigilant foe, they knew, and they
+expected to encounter his pickets soon.
+
+“They're probably watching us now through the fog and rain,” said
+Colonel Winchester to Dick as they left the last house of Nashville
+behind. “They know every inch of these hills and valleys.”
+
+It was not a great distance to Murfreesborough, but they found the
+marching slow. The feet of the horses sank deep in the mud and the
+cannon and wagons were almost mired. But despite mud and rain and cold,
+the army pressed bravely on. They were the same lads and their like who
+had marched forward so hopefully to Donelson and Shiloh. Through the
+rain and the soughing of wheels in the mud rolled their battle songs,
+sung with all the spirit and fire of youth.
+
+Colonel Winchester and all the officers helped with the cannon and
+wagons and soon they were covered with mud. The Winchester regiment
+was in the lead, and Sergeant Whitley suddenly pointing with a thick
+forefinger, said:
+
+“There are the Johnnies! Their pickets are waiting for us!”
+
+Dick saw through the mist and rain a considerable body of men down the
+road, most of them on horseback. He knew at once that they were Southern
+pickets, and the eager lads around him, seeing them, knew it, too.
+Not waiting for command they set up a shout and charged down the road.
+Rifles instantly flashed through the rain and a sharp fire met them. Men
+fell, but others pressed on with all the more zeal, seeing just beyond
+the Southern pickets the roofs of a little town. Cannon shot also
+whizzed among them, indicating that the Southern pickets were in strong
+force.
+
+But the Northern troops, full of vigor and zeal, swept back the pickets
+and charged directly upon a larger force in the town beyond. A short
+and fierce battle for the possession of the village ensued, but this was
+only a Southern outpost, and it was not strong enough to withstand the
+rush of the Ohio men and Winchester's regiment. Fighting at every step
+they retreated through the village and into the forest beyond, leaving
+one of their cannon in the hands of the Union troops.
+
+“An omen of victory,” exclaimed Dick, when he saw the captured cannon.
+
+“Careful, Dick! Careful!” said Warner. “Remember that you're not strong
+on omens. You're always seeing sure signs of success just before we go
+into a big battle.”
+
+“If Dick sees visions, and they're visions of the right kind, then he's
+right,” said Pennington. “I'd a good deal rather go into battle with
+Dick by my side singing a song of victory, than croaking of defeat.”
+
+“That's good as a general proposition,” said Warner, “but I was merely
+cautioning him not to be too enthusiastic. What kind of a country, Dick,
+is this into which we are going?”
+
+“Hilly, lots of forests, particularly of cedar, and brooks, creeks and
+rivers. Murfreesborough itself is right on Lytle's Creek. Bragg will
+meet us at the line of Stone River.”
+
+“Maybe they'll retreat and go eastward to Chattanooga,” said Pennington.
+
+“I think we'd better dismiss that 'maybe,'” said Dick. “You haven't
+heard of the rebels running away from battles, have you?”
+
+“What I've generally seen, in the beginning at least,” said Warner, “is
+the rebels running toward us, jumping out of the woods and yelling like
+Indians. I have seldom found it a pleasant sight. I'm glad, too, Dick,
+that Stonewall Jackson isn't here. Do you see that big cedar forest over
+there on the hillside? Suppose he should come rushing out of it with
+twenty or twenty-five thousand men.”
+
+“Stop,” said Pennington. “You give me the shivers, talking about
+Stonewall Jackson swooping down on us with an army corps, when happily
+he's four or five hundred miles away. I'm seeing enough unfriendly
+faces as it is. Look how the people in this village are glaring at us.
+Fellows, I've decided after due consideration that they don't love us
+here in Tennessee. If you were to ask me I'd say that blue was not their
+favorite color.”
+
+“At any rate we don't stay long. Good-bye, friends, good-bye,” said
+Warner, waving his hand toward two or three men who stood in the door of
+an old blacksmith shop.
+
+“You laugh, young feller,” said a gnarled and knotted old man past
+eighty, “an' mebbe it's as well for you to laugh while you have the time
+to do it in. Mebbe you'll never come back from Stone River, an' if
+you do, an' if you win everywhere, remember that we, too, will yet win
+everywhere.”
+
+“What do you mean by that?”
+
+“All the Yankees, whether they win or not, will have to go back north,
+except them that are dead, an' we'll be here right on top of the lan',
+livin' on it, an' runnin' it, same as we've always done.”
+
+“I hadn't thought of that,” said Warner soberly.
+
+“There's a power of things the young don't think of,” said the ancient
+man. “Mebbe the South can be whipped, but she can't be moved. She'll
+always be here. People hev made a war. I don't know who started it. I
+reckon there's been some powerful mean an' hot talk on both sides. I
+knowed great men that seed this very thing comin' long ago an' tried
+to stop it. I went over in Kentucky more than once an' heard Henry Clay
+speak. I don't believe there was ever another such a talker as he was.
+He had sense an' knowledge as well as voice. He done his best to smooth
+over this quarrel between North and South that others was eggin' on all
+the time, but he couldn't, and I reckon when Henry Clay, the greatest
+man God ever made, failed, it wasn't worth while for anybody else
+to try. Ride on, young fellers, an' get yourselves killed. You ain't
+twenty, an' I'm over eighty, but I guess I'll be lookin' at the green
+trees when you're under the ground. Ride on in the rain an' the cold,
+an' I'll go inside the shop an' warm myself by the forge fire.”
+
+The three boys rode on in sober silence. The words of the ancient
+philosopher were soaking in with the rain.
+
+“Suppose we don't come back from Stone River,” said Pennington.
+
+“We take our chances, of course,” said Dick.
+
+“And suppose what he said about the South should prove true,” said
+Warner, thoughtfully. “One part of it, at least, is bound to come true.
+That phrase of his sticks in my mind: 'Mebbe the South can be whipped,
+but she can't be moved.' The Southern states, as he says, will be here
+just the same after the war is over, no matter who wins.”
+
+But such thoughts as these could not endure long in minds so young. They
+passed through the village and soon were in the forests of red cedar.
+The rain ceased, but in its place came a thick and heavy fog. The mud
+grew deeper than ever. Progress became very slow. It was difficult
+in the great foggy veil for the regiments to keep in touch with one
+another, and occasional shots in front warned them that the enemy was
+active and watchful. The division barely crept along.
+
+Dick and his comrades were mounted again, and they kept close to Colonel
+Winchester, who, however, had few orders to send. The command of the
+corps rested with General McCook, and it behooved him as any private
+could see, to exercise the utmost caution. They were strangers in the
+land and the Confederates were not.
+
+Dick had thought that morning that they would get into touch with heavy
+forces of the enemy before night, but the fog and the mud rendered their
+advance so slow that at sunset they went into camp in a vast forest of
+red cedar, still a good distance from Stone River. The fog had lifted
+somewhat, but the night was heavy, damp and dark. There was an abundance
+of fallen wood, and the veterans soon built long rows of fires which
+contributed wonderfully to their cheerfulness.
+
+“There's nothing like a fine fire on a cold, dark night,” said Sergeant
+Whitley, holding his hands over the flames. “Out on the plains when
+there was only a hundred or so of us, an' nothin' on any side five
+hundred miles away 'xcept hostile Indians, an' a blizzard whistlin' an'
+roarin', with the mercury thirty degrees below zero, it was glorious to
+have a big fire lighted in a hollow or a dip an' bend over the coals,
+until the warmth went right through you.”
+
+“It was the power of contrast,” said Warner sagely. “The real comfort
+from the fire was fifty per cent and the howling of the icy gale, in
+which you might have frozen to death, but didn't, was fifty per cent
+more. That's why I'm feeling so good now, although I'd say that those
+red cedars and their dark background are none too cheerful.”
+
+“I've got two good blankets,” said Pennington, who was returning from a
+trip further down the line, “and I'm going to sleep. Haven't you fellows
+learned that all your foolish talking before a battle never changes
+the result? I can tell you this. Our three divisions that are marching
+toward Murfreesborough are in touch. We've put out swarms of scouts and
+they all tell us so. They know exactly where the enemy is, too, and he's
+too far away to surprise us to-night. So it's sleep, my boys, sleep.
+Sleep will recover for you so much strength that it will be much harder
+for you to get killed on the morrow.”
+
+Dick had dried himself very thoroughly before one of the fires, and
+wrapping himself in his two blankets he slept soundly and heavily. There
+was fog again the next morning, but they reached a little village
+called Triune and all through the day they heard the sounds of scattered
+firing. One of the scouts told Colonel Winchester that the whole
+Southern army would be concentrated the next day on the line of Stone
+River, but that it would be inferior to the Union army in numbers by ten
+thousand men. Bragg's force, however, had the advantage of experience,
+being composed almost wholly of veterans.
+
+It was on the afternoon of this day that Dick came into personal contact
+with General Thomas again. He had been sent through the cedar forest
+with dispatches to him from General McCook, and after the general had
+read them he glanced at the messenger.
+
+“You reached General Buell safely with my letter, Lieutenant Mason,” he
+said, “and I'm very glad to see you here with us again.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Dick, feeling an immense pride because this man,
+whom he admired so much, remembered him.
+
+“It was a difficult duty and you did it well. I found that you got
+through safely. I made inquiries about you and I traced you as far as
+Shiloh, but I could get no further.”
+
+“I was at Shiloh,” said Dick proudly. “I was captured just before it
+began, but I escaped while it was at its height and fought until the
+close.”
+
+“And after that?”
+
+“My regiment was sent east, sir. I went with it through the Second
+Manassas and Antietam. Then we came back west to help General Buell. I
+was at Perryville and was wounded there, but I soon got well.”
+
+“Perryville was a terrible battle. It was short, but it is incredible
+with what fury the troops fought. We should do better here.”
+
+Dick saw that the last sentence which was spoken in a low tone was not
+addressed to him. It was merely a murmured expression of the general's
+own thoughts, and he remained silent.
+
+“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.
+
+The armies had disentangled themselves from the woods and bushes. They
+were now in the open and face to face on a long line. The Winchester
+regiment had risen to its feet again, and stood directly behind and
+almost mingled with the Kentucky regiment that had saved it.
+
+“They're coming!” exclaimed Warner in quick, excited tones. “Look, there
+on the flank!”
+
+It was the division of Cleburne, in the hottest of the battle all
+through the morning advancing to a fresh attack upon the Union lines,
+but it was received with such a powerful fire that it was driven back in
+disorder into some woods.
+
+Dick, however, did not have a chance to see this as the Southerners,
+reinforced by fresh troops from Breckinridge's division, were charging
+in the center with great violence. So terrible was the fire that
+received them that some of the regiments lost half their numbers in
+five minutes. Yet the remainder, upheld by their cannon, returned a
+fire almost as deadly. Rosecrans, absolutely fearless, stood in the very
+front where the danger was greatest. A cannon ball blew off the head
+of his chief of staff who stood by his side. “Many a brave fellow must
+fall!” cried Rosecrans, a devoted Catholic. “Cross yourselves, and fire
+low and fast!”
+
+Many a brave fellow did fall, but his men fired low and fast, and, while
+the Southern troops charged again and again to the very mouths of the
+cannon they were unable to break down the last desperate stand of the
+Northern army. They had driven it back, but they had not driven it
+back far enough. Then the sun set as it had set so often before on an
+undecisive battle, terrible in its long list of the slain, but leaving
+everything to be fought over again.
+
+“They didn't beat us,” said Dick as the firing ceased.
+
+“No,” said Colonel Winchester, “nor have we won a victory, but we're
+saved. Thank God for the night!”
+
+“They'll attack again to-morrow, sir,” said Sergeant Whitley.
+
+“Undoubtedly so,” said Colonel Winchester, who felt at this moment not
+as if he were speaking as colonel to sergeant, but as man to man, “and I
+hope that our artillery will be ready again. It is what has saved us. We
+have always been superior in that arm.”
+
+The colonel had spoken the truth, and the fact was also recognized by
+Rosecrans, Thomas and the other generals. While they rectified
+their lines in the darkness, the great batteries were posted in good
+positions, and fresh gunners took the place of those who had been
+killed. Both Rosecrans and Thomas were made of stern stuff. Afraid of no
+enemy, and, despite their great losses of the day and the fact that
+they had been driven back, they would be ready to fight on the morrow.
+Sheridan, Crittenden, McCook, Van Cleve and the others were equally
+ready.
+
+Food was brought from the rear and the exhausted combatants sank down to
+rest. Dick was in such an apathy from sheer overtasking of the body and
+spirit that he did not think of anything. He lay like an animal that has
+escaped from a long chase. Silence had settled down with the darkness
+and the Confederate army had become invisible.
+
+Dick revived later. He talked more freely with those about him, and he
+gathered from the gossip which travels fast, much of what had happened.
+The Union army, so confident in the morning, was in a dangerous position
+at night. Nearly thirty of its guns were taken. Three thousand unwounded
+and many wounded men were prisoners in the hands of the South. Arms
+and ammunition by the wholesale had been captured. The Southern cavalry
+under Fighting Joe Wheeler had gone behind Rosecrans' whole army and
+had cut his communications with his base at Nashville, at the same time
+raiding his wagon trains. Another body of cavalry under Wharton had
+taken all the wagons of McCook's corps, and still a third under Pegram
+had captured many prisoners on the Nashville road in the rear of the
+Northern army.
+
+Dick became aware of a great, an intense anxiety among the leaders. The
+army was isolated. The raiding Southern cavalry kept it from receiving
+fresh supplies of either food or ammunition, unless it retreated.
+
+“We're stripped of everything but our arms,” said Warner.
+
+“Then we've really lost nothing,” said the valiant Pennington, “because
+with our arms we'll recover everything.”
+
+They had a commander of like spirit. At that moment Rosecrans, gathering
+his generals in a tent pitched hastily for him, was saying to them,
+“Gentlemen, we will conquer or die here.” Short and strong, but every
+word meant. There was no need to say more. The generals animated by the
+same spirit went forth to their commands, and first among them was the
+grim and silent Thomas, who had the bulldog grip of Grant. Perhaps it
+was this indomitable tenacity and resolution that made the Northern
+generals so much more successful in the west than they were in the east
+during the early years of the war.
+
+But there was exultation in the Confederate camp. Bragg and Polk and
+Hardee and Breckinridge and the others felt now that Rosecrans would
+retreat in the night after losing so many men and one-third of his
+artillery. Great then was their astonishment when the rising sun of New
+Year's day showed him sitting there, grimly waiting, with his back to
+Stone River, a formidable foe despite his losses. Above all the Southern
+generals saw the heavily massed artillery, which they had such good
+reason to fear.
+
+Dick, who had slept soundly through the night, was up like all the
+others at dawn and he beheld the Southern army before them, yet not
+moving, as if uncertain what to do. He felt again that thrill of courage
+and resolution, and, born of it, was the belief that despite the first
+day's defeat the chances were yet even. These western youths were of a
+tough and enduring stock, as he had seen at Shiloh and Perryville, and
+the battle was not always to him who won the first day. A long time
+passed and there was no firing.
+
+“Not so eager to rush us as they were,” said Warner. “It's a
+mathematical certainty that an army that's not running away is not
+whipped, and that certainty is patent to our Southern friends also. But
+to descend from mathematics to poetry, a great poet says that he who
+runs away will live to fight another day. I will transpose and otherwise
+change that, making it to read: He who does not run away may make the
+other fellow unable to fight another day.”
+
+“You talk too much like a schoolmaster, George,” said Pennington.
+
+“The most important business of a school teacher is to teach the young
+idea how to shoot, and lately I've had ample chances to give such
+instruction.”
+
+It was not that they were frivolous, but like most other lads in the
+army, they had grown into the habit of teasing one another, which was
+often a relief to teaser as well as teased.
+
+“I think, sir,” said Dick to Colonel Winchester, “that some of our
+troops are moving.”
+
+He was looking through his glasses toward the left, where he saw a
+strong Union force, with banners waving, advancing toward Bragg's right.
+
+“Ah, that is well done!” exclaimed Colonel Winchester. “If our men
+break through there we'll cut Bragg off from Murfreesborough and his
+ammunition and supplies.”
+
+They did not break through, but they maintained a long and vigorous
+battle, while the centers and other wings of the two armies did not
+stir. But it became evident to Dick later in the afternoon that a mighty
+movement was about to begin. His glasses told him so, and the thrill of
+expectation confirmed it.
+
+Bragg was preparing to hurl his full strength upon Rosecrans.
+Breckinridge, who would have been the President of the United States,
+had not the Democrats divided, was to lead it. This division of five
+brigades had formed under cover of a wood. On its flank was a battery
+of ten guns and two thousand of the fierce riders of the South under
+Wharton and Pegram. Dick felt instinctively that Colonel Kenton with his
+regiment was there in the very thick of it.
+
+Dick's regiment with Negley's strong Kentucky brigade, which had stopped
+the panic and rout the day before, had now recrossed Stone River and
+were posted strongly behind it. Ahead of them were two small brigades
+with some cannon, and Rosecrans himself was with this force just as
+Breckinridge's powerful division emerged into the open and began its
+advance upon the Union lines.
+
+“Now, lads, stand firm!” exclaimed Colonel Winchester. “This is the
+crisis.”
+
+The colonel had measured the situation with a cool eye and brain. He
+knew that the regiments on the other side of the river were worn down
+by the day's fighting and would not stand long. But he believed that the
+Kentuckians around him, and the men from beyond the Ohio would not yield
+an inch. They were largely Kentuckians also coming against them.
+
+The rolling fire burst from the Southern front, and the cannon on their
+flanks crashed heavily. Then their infantry came forward fast, and with
+a wild shout and rush the two thousand cavalry on their flanks charged.
+As Colonel Winchester had expected, the two weak brigades, although
+Rosecrans in person was among them, gave way, retreated rapidly to the
+little river and crossed it.
+
+The Confederates came on in swift pursuit, but Negley's Kentuckians
+and the other Union men, standing fast, received them with a tremendous
+volley. It was at short range, and their bullets crashed through
+the crowded Southern ranks. The Winchesters were on the flank of the
+defenders, where they could get a better view, and although they also
+were firing as fast as they could reload and pull the trigger, they saw
+the great column pause and then reel.
+
+Rosecrans, who had fallen back with the retreating brigades, instantly
+noted the opportunity. Here, a general who received too little reward
+from the nation, and to whom popular esteem did not pay enough tribute,
+rushed two brigades across Stone River and hurled them with all their
+weight upon the Southern flank. Sixty cannon posted on the hillocks just
+behind the river poured an awful fire upon the Southern column. The fire
+from front and flank was so tremendous that the Southerners, veterans as
+they were, gave way. The men who had held victory in their hands felt it
+slipping from their grasp.
+
+“They waver! They retreat!” shouted Colonel Winchester. “Up, boys, and
+at 'em!”
+
+The whole Union force, led by its heroic generals, rushed forward,
+crossed the river and joined in the charge. The two thousand Southern
+cavalry were driven off by a fire that no horsemen could withstand. The
+division of Breckinridge, although fighting with furious courage,
+was gradually driven back, and the day closed with the Union army in
+possession of most of the territory it had lost the day before.
+
+As they lay that night in the damp woods, Dick and his comrades, all
+of whom had been fortunate enough to escape this time without injury,
+discussed the battle. For a while they claimed that it was a victory,
+but they finally agreed that it was a draw. The losses were enormous.
+Each side had lost about one third of its force.
+
+Rosecrans, raging like a wounded lion, talked of attacking again, but
+the rains had been so heavy, the roads were so soft and deep in mud that
+the cannon and the wagons could not be pushed forward.
+
+Bragg retreated four days later from Murfreesborough, and Dick and his
+comrades therefore claimed a victory, but as the winter was now shutting
+down cold and hard, Rosecrans remained on the line of Murfreesborough
+and Nashville.
+
+The Winchester regiment was sent back to Nashville to recuperate and
+seek recruits for its ranks. Dick and Warner and Pennington felt that
+their army had done well in the west, but their hopes for the Union were
+clouded by the news from the east. Lee and Jackson had triumphed again.
+Burnside, in midwinter, had hurled the gallant Army of the Potomac in
+vain against the heights of Fredericksburg, and twelve thousand men had
+fallen for nothing.
+
+“We need a man, a man in the east, even more than in the west,” said
+Warner.
+
+“He'll come. I'm sure he'll come,” said Dick.
+
+
+
+
+Appendix: Transcription notes:
+
+This ebook was transcribed from a volume of the 16th printing
+
+Despite the fact that this is a fictional work, I myself find it
+inappropriate that our fictional hero, Dick Mason, is credited with
+discovering the “lost” copy of Lee's General Order No. 191. In fact,
+Sergeant Bloss and Corporal Mitchell, of the 27th Indiana Infantry,
+found the envelope containing the order, along with the three cigars, in
+a field of clover on the morning of 09/13/1862.
+
+
+The following modifications were applied while transcribing the printed
+book to ebook:
+
+ Chapter 2
+   Page 31, para 4, add missing close-quotes
+   Page 51, para 3, add missing comma
+   Page 51, para 6, fix typo (“Pennigton”)
+   Page 52, para 7, add missing open-quotes
+
+ Chapter 3
+   Page 68, para 4, changed “it” to “its”
+
+ Chapter 4
+   Page 83, para 3, added a missing comma  (In these books, I am
+     often tempted to add/move/remove commas, but I generally avoid
+     doing so.  In this case, an additional comma was sorely needed.)
+
+ Chapter 5
+   Page 105, para 3, add missing open-quotes
+   Page 107, para 2, add missing open-quotes
+   Page 118, para 5, changed “he know not” to “he knew not”
+
+ Chapter 6
+   Page 142, para 11, add missing open-quotes
+
+ Chapter 7
+   Page 157, para 2, add missing open-quotes
+
+ Chapter 9
+   Page 191, para 6, add missing comma
+   Page 196, para 2 and 3, fix closing quotation marks
+   Page 197, para 1, add missing close-quote
+
+ Chapter 10
+   Page 210, para 1, fix typo (“Pennigton”)
+
+ Chapter 13
+   Page 276, para 1, change “a” to “as”
+    Page 281, para 2, add missing close-quotes
+   Page 283, para 8, change “in” to “is”
+    Page 288, para 4, fix typo (“seeemd”)
+   Page 293, para 4, add missing close-quotes
+   Page 297, para 2, closing double-quote should be single-quote
+
+ Limitations imposed by converting to plain ASCII:
+
+  - The word “marquee” in chapter 3 was presented in the printed
+    book with an accented “e”
+
+I did not change:
+
+  - Inconsistent spelling/presentation in the printed book:
+    “rearguard” and “rear guard”, “guerrilla” and “guerilla”,
+    “round-about” and “roundabout”, “to-morrow” and “tomorrow”
+
+  - “bowlder” in chapter 10
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Sword of Antietam, by Joseph A. Altsheler
+
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