The Tree of Appomattox by Joseph A. Altsheler (most inspirational books txt) 📗

whole Union army was driven back a full five miles before it could make a permanent stand. Then, far in the morning, the regiments reformed, held their ground, and Dick, for the first time, took a long free breath.

"We've been defeated but not destroyed," he said.

"No, we haven't," said a voice beside him, "but the fact that the Johnnies were so hungry has saved us a lot."

It was Shepard, who seemed to have risen from the ground.

"I've got back from places farther north," he said. "Chance kept me away from here last night."

"What do you mean about the Southern hunger helping us?" asked Dick.

"I've been on the flank, and I saw that when they drove us out of our camps the temptation was too great for many of their men. They scattered, seizing our good food and devouring it. It was impossible for their officers to restrain them. They've suffered losses too, and they can drive us no farther."

Then Shepard spoke briefly with Colonel Winchester, and disappeared again. The fire had now died somewhat and the banks of smoke were rising, enabling Dick to see the field with a degree of clearness. Union batteries and regiments were in line, but behind them a mass of fugitives, who had not yet recovered from the surprise and who thought the defeat complete, were pouring along the turnpike toward Winchester. When Dick saw their numbers his fears were renewed. He believed that if the Southern army could gather up all its forces and attack once more it would win another success.

But while he looked at the long line of fire in front of them a sudden roar of cheering rose from the Union ranks. It became a shout, tremendous and thrilling. Dick turned in excitement and he was about to ask what it meant, when he distinguished a name thundered again and again:

"Sheridan! Sheridan! Sheridan!"

Then before them galloped their own Little Phil, seeming to bring strength, courage and victory with him. His hat was thrown back, his face flushed, and his eyes sparkling. Everywhere the men rallied to his call and the shouts: "Sheridan! Sheridan!" rolled up and down. The fugitives too came pouring back to swell the line of battle. Dick caught the enthusiasm at once, and felt his own pulses leaping. He and Pennington and Warner joined in the shouts: "Sheridan! Sheridan!" and snatching off their caps waved them with all their vigor.

It was an amazing transformation. A beaten and dispirited army, holding on from a sense of duty, suddenly became alive with zeal, and asked only to be led against the enemy by the general they trusted. One man alone had worked the miracle and as his enemies had truly said his presence was worth ten thousand men.

His coming had been dramatic. He had spent the night quietly at Winchester, but, early in the morning, he had heard the sounds of firing which steadily grew louder. Apprehensive, he rode at once toward the distant field, and, before he had gone two miles, he met the first stragglers, bringing wild tales that the army had been routed, and that the Southerners were hot on their heels. Sheridan rode rapidly now. He met thicker streams of fugitives, but turned them back toward the enemy, and when he finally came upon the field itself he brought with him all the retreating regiments.

Dick never beheld a more thrilling and inspiring sight than that which occurred when Sheridan galloped among them, swinging his hat in his hand.

"What troops are these?" he had asked.

"The Sixth Corps!" hundreds of voices shouted in reply.

"We are all right! We'll win!" cried Sheridan.

And then, as he galloped along the line he added:

"Never mind, boys, we'll whip 'em yet! We'll whip 'em yet! We'll sleep in their quarters tonight!"

The roar of cheering swept up and down the line again, and Sheridan and his officers began to prepare the restored army for a new battle. All the time the Union numbers swelled, and, as the Southern army was hesitating, Sheridan was able to post his divisions as he pleased.

The Winchester regiment was drawn up towards the flank. All the officers were still on foot, but they stood a little in front, ready to lead their men into the new battle. It was now about noon, and there was a pause in the combat, enabling the smoke to lift yet higher, and disclosing the whole field. Sheridan was still riding up and down the lines, cool, determined and resolved to turn defeat into victory. Wherever he went he spoke words of encouragement to his troops, but all the time his eye, which was the eye of a true general, swept the field. He put the gallant young Custer with his cavalry on the right, Crook and Merritt with their horse on the left, while the infantry were massed in the center. The Winchester men were sent to the right.

The doubts in the ranks of the South helped Sheridan. Early after his victory in the morning was surprised to see the Union army gather itself together again and show such a formidable front. Neither he nor his lieutenants could understand the sudden reversal, and the pause, which at first had been meant merely to give the troops opportunity for fresh breath, grew into a long delay. Here and there, skirmishers were firing, feeling out one another, but the masses of the army paid no attention to those scattered shots.

The Winchester men were elated. Colonel Winchester and the young officers knew that delay worked steadily for them. All the defeated troops of the morning were coming back into line, and now they were anxious to retrieve their disaster. Dick, through his glasses, saw that the Confederates so far from continuing the advance were now fortifying behind stone fences and also were spreading across the valley to keep from being flanked on either side by the cavalry. But he saw too that their ranks were scanty. If they spread far enough to protect their flanks they would become dangerously thin in the center. He handed his glasses to the sergeant, and asked him to take a look.

"Their surprise," said Whitley, "has spent its force. Their army is not big enough. Our general has seen it, and it's why he delays so long. Time works for us, because we can gather together much greater numbers than they have."

The delay lasted far into the afternoon. The smoke and dust settled, and the October sun gleamed on cannon and bayonets. Dick's watch showed that it was nearly four o'clock.

"We attack today surely," said Pennington, who was growing nervous with impatience.

"Don't you worry, young man," said Warner. "The two armies are here in line facing each other and as it would be too much trouble to arrange it all again tomorrow the battle will be fought today. The whole program will be carried out on time."

"I think," said Dick, "that the attack is very near, and that it's we who are going to make it. Here is General Sheridan himself."

The general rode along the line just before the Winchesters and nodded to them approvingly. He came so close that Dick saw the contraction of his face, and his eager burning look, as if the great moment had arrived. Suddenly, he raised his hand and the buglers blew the fierce notes of the charge.

"Now we go!" cried Pennington in uncontrollable excitement, and the whole right wing seemed to lift itself up bodily and rush forward. The men, eager to avenge the losses of the morning, began to shout, and their cheers mingled with the mighty tread of the charge, the thunder of the cannon and the rapid firing of thousands of rifles. They knew, too, that Sheridan's own eye was upon them, and it encouraged them to a supreme effort.

Infantry and cavalry swept on together in an overwhelming mass. Cannon and rifles sent a bitter hail upon them, but nothing could stop their rush. Dick felt all his pulses beating heavily and he saw a sea of fire before him, but his excitement was so intense that he forgot about danger.

The center also swung into the charge and then the left. All the divisions of the army, as arranged by Sheridan, moved in perfect time. The soldiers advanced like veterans going from one victory to another, instead of rallying from a defeat. The war had not witnessed another instance of such a quick and powerful recovery.

Dick knew, as their charge gathered force at every step, that they were going to certain triumph. The thinness of the Southern lines had already told him that they could not withstand the impact of Sheridan. A moment later the crash came and the whole Union force rushed to victory. Early's army, exhausted by its efforts of the morning, was overwhelmed. It was swept from the stone fences and driven back in defeat, while the men in blue, growing more eager as they saw success achieved, pressed harder and harder.

No need for bugle and command to urge them on now. The Southern army could not withstand anywhere such ardor and such weight. Position after position was lost, then there was no time to take a new stand, and the defeat became a rout. Early's army which had come forward so gallantly in the morning was compelled to flee in disorder in the afternoon. The brave Ramseur, fighting desperately, fell mortally wounded, Kershaw could save but a few men, Evans held a ford a little while, but he too was soon hurled from it. The Invincibles were driven on with the rest, cannon and wagons were lost, and all but the core of Early's force ceased to exist.

The sun set upon the Union army in the camps that it had lost in the fog of the morning. It had been driven five miles but had come back again. It had recovered all its own guns, and had taken twenty-four belonging to the South. It was the most complete victory that had yet been won by either side in the war, and it had been snatched from the very jaws of defeat and humiliation. Small wonder that there was great rejoicing in the ranks of northern youth! Despite their immense exertions and the commands of their officers they could not yet lie down and sleep or rest. Now and then a tremendous cheer for Little Phil who had saved them arose. Huge bonfires sprang up in the night, where they were burning the captured Confederate ambulances and wagons, because they did not have the horses with which to take them away.

Long after the battle was over, Dick's heart beat hard with exertion and excitement. But he shared too in the joy. He would not have been human, and he would not have been young if he had not. Warner and Pennington and he had collected four more small wounds among them, but they were so slight that they had not noticed them in the storm and fury of the battle. Colonel Winchester had not been touched.

When Dick was at last able to sit still, he joined his comrades about one of the fires, where they were serving supper to the victors. Shepard had just galloped back from a long ride after the enemy to say that they had been scattered to the winds, and that another surprise was not possible, because there were no longer enough Southern soldiers in the valley to make an army.

"They made a great effort," said Colonel Winchester. "We must give them credit for what they achieved against numbers and resources. They organized and carried out their surprise in a wonderful manner, and perhaps they would be the victors tonight if we didn't have such a general as Sheridan."

"It was a great sight," said Warner, "when he appeared, galloping before our line, calling upon us to renew our courage and beat the enemy."

"One man can influence an army. I've found out that," said Dick.

They rose and saluted as General Sheridan walked past with some of the higher officers. He returned the salutes, congratulated them on their courage and went on. After a long while the exhausted victors fell asleep.

* * * *

That night a band of men, a hundred perhaps, entered the woods along the