The Rock of Chickamauga - Joseph A. Altsheler (macos ebook reader .txt) 📗

the others what he saw, and he wished to show neither

exultation nor depression. The colonel, the duty of courtesy discharged,

resumed his own position of witness and herald.

 

"The columns of infantry are getting up again," he said. "I see a man in

what I take to be a general's uniform riding along their front. He

must be making a speech. No doubt he knows the desperate nature of

the attack, and would inspire them. Now he is gone and other officers,

colonels and majors are moving about."

 

"What are the skirmishers doing, Colonel?"

 

"Their fire is not so hot. They must be drawing back. They have made

the prelude, and the importance of their role has passed. The masses

of infantry are drawing together again. Now I see men on horseback with

trumpets to their lips. Yes, the charge is coming. Ah-h! That burnt

them!"

 

There was a terrific crash much nearer, and Dick knew that it was the

Southern batteries opening fire. The shoulder upon which the colonel's

hand rested shook a little, but it was from excitement. He said nothing

and Colonel Woodville continued:

 

"The smoke is so heavy I can't see what damage was done! Now it has

cleared away! There are gaps in the Yankee lines, but the men have

closed up, and they come on at the double quick with their cannon still

firing over their heads!"

 

In his excitement he took his hand off Dick's shoulder and leaned

forward a little farther, supporting himself now against the earthen

wall. Dick stood just behind him, shielded from the sight of any one

who might be passing in the ravine, although there was little danger now

from searchers with a great battle going on. Meanwhile he watched the

combat with an eagerness fully equal to that of the old colonel.

 

The mighty crash of cannon and rifles together continued, but for a

little while the smoke banked up in front so densely that the whole

combat was hidden from them. Then a wind slowly rolled the smoke away.

The figures of the men began to appear like shadowy tracery, and then

emerged, distinct and separate from the haze.

 

"They are nearer now," said the Colonel. "I can plainly see their long

lines moving and their light guns coming with them. But our batteries

are raking them horribly. Their men are falling by the scores and

hundreds."

 

Miss Woodville uttered a deep sigh and turned her face away. But she

looked again in a few moments. The terrible spell was upon her, too.

 

Dick's nerves were quivering. His heart was with the assailants and

theirs with the assailed, but he would not speak aloud against the hopes

of Colonel Woodville and his daughter, since he was in their house, such

as it was, and, in a measure, under their protection.

 

"Their charge is splendid," continued the colonel, "and I hope Pemberton

has made full use of the ground for defense! He will need all the help

he can get! Oh, to be out of the battle on such a day! The smoke is in

the way again and I can see nothing. Now it has passed and the enemy is

still advancing, but our fire grows hotter and hotter! The shells and

the grape and the canister and the bullets are smashing through them.

They cannot live under it! They must go back!"

 

Nevertheless the blue lines came steadily toward the Southern

earthworks. Dick saw officers, some ahorse, and some afoot, rushing

about and encouraging the men, and he saw many fall and lie still while

the regiments passed on.

 

"They are in the nearer thickets," cried the colonel, "and now they're

climbing the slopes! Ah, you riflemen, your target is there!"

 

The Northern army was so near now that the Southern rifle fire was

beating upon it like a storm. Never flinching, the men of the west and

northwest hurled themselves upon the powerful fortified positions. Some

reached shelves of the plateau almost at the mouths of the guns and hung

there, their comrades falling dead or dying around them, but now the

rebel yell began to swell along the vast line, and reached the ears of

those in the ravine.

 

"The omen of victory!" exclaimed the colonel exultantly. "Our brave lads

feel that they're about to triumph! Grant can't break through our line!

Why doesn't he call off his men? It's slaughter!"

 

Dick's heart sank. He knew that the colonel's words were true. The

Southern army, posted in its defenses, was breaking the ring of steel

that sought to crush it to death. Groups of men in blue who had seized

ground in the very front of the defenses either died there or were

gradually driven back. The inner ring along its front of miles thundered

incessantly on the outer ring, and repelled every attempt to crush it.

 

"They yield," said the colonel, after a long time. "The Northern fire

has sunk at many points, and there! and there! they're retreating! The

attack has failed and the South has won a victory!"

 

"But Grant will come again," said Dick, speaking his opinion for the

first time.

 

"No doubt of it," said Colonel Woodville, "but likely he will come to

the same fate."

 

He spoke wholly without animosity. The battle now died fast. The men

in gray had been invincible. Their cannon and rifles had made an

impenetrable barrier of fire, and Grant, despite the valor of his

troops, had been forced to draw off. Many thousands had fallen and the

Southern generals were exultant. Johnston would come up, and Grant,

having such heavy losses, would be unable to withstand the united

Confederate armies.

 

But Grant, as Colonel Woodville foresaw, had no idea of retreating.

Fresh troops were pouring down the great river for him, and while he

would not again attempt to storm Vicksburg, the ring of steel around it

would be made so broad and strong that Pemberton could not get out nor

could Johnston get in.

 

When the last cannon shot echoed over the far hills Colonel Woodville

turned away from the door of his hillside home.

 

"I must ask your shoulder again, young sir," he said to Dick. "What I

have seen rejoices me greatly, but I do not say it to taunt you. In

war if one wins the other must lose, and bear in mind that you are the

invader."

 

"May I help you back to your bed, sir?" asked Dick.

 

"You may. You are a good young man. I'm glad I saved you from that

scoundrel, Slade. As the score between us is even I wish that you were

out of Vicksburg and with your own people."

 

"I was thinking, too, sir, that I ought to go. I may take a quick

departure."

 

"Then if you do go I wish you a speedy and safe journey, but I tell you

to beware of one, Slade, who has a malicious heart and a long memory."

 

Dick withdrew to his own cell, as he called it, and he passed bitter

hours there. The repulse had struck him a hard blow. Was it possible

that Grant could not win? And if he could not win what terrible risks

he would run in the heart of the Confederacy, with perhaps two armies to

fight! He felt that only the Mississippi, that life-line connecting him

with the North, could save him.

 

But as dusk came gradually in the ravine he resolved that he would go.

His supper, as usual, was brought to him by Miss Woodville. She was as

taciturn as ever, speaking scarcely a half-dozen words. When he asked

her if Victor had gone through the battle unharmed she merely nodded,

and presently he was alone again, with the dusk deepening in the great

gully.

 

Dick was confident that nobody but Colonel Woodville, his daughter, and

himself were in the cave-home. It was but a small place, and new callous

places on her hands indicated that she was doing the cooking and all

other work. His resolve to risk everything and go was strengthened.

 

He waited patiently until the full night had come and only the usual

sounds of an army in camp arose. Then he made ready. He had surrendered

his holster and pistols to Colonel Woodville, and so he must issue forth

unarmed, but it could not be helped. He had several ten dollar gold

pieces in his pocket, and he put one of them on the tiny table in his

cell. He knew that it would be most welcome, and he could not calculate

how many hundreds in Confederacy currency it was worth. He was glad that

he could repay a little at least.

 

Then he stepped lightly toward the larger chamber in which Colonel

Woodville lay. The usual candle was burning on the table near his bed,

but the great bald head lay motionless on the pillow, and the heavy

white eyebrows drooped over closed lids. Sound asleep! Dick was glad

of it. The colonel, with his strong loyalty to the South, might seek

to hold him, at least as his personal prisoner, and now the trouble was

avoided.

 

He moved gently across the floor, and then passed toward the open door.

How good that puff of fresh air and freedom felt on his face! He did not

know that Colonel Woodville raised his head on the pillow, glanced after

him, and then let his head sink back and his eyes close again. A low

sigh came between the colonel's lips, and it would have been difficult

to say whether it was relief or regret.

 

Dick stepped into the narrow path cut in the side of the ravine and

inhaled more draughts of the fresh air. How sweet and strong it was! How

it filled one's lungs and brought with it life, courage and confidence!

One had to live in a hole in a hill before he could appreciate fully the

blessed winds that blew about the world. He knew that the path ran

in front of other hollows dug in the earth, and he felt sorry for the

people who were compelled to burrow in them. He felt sorry, in truth,

for all Vicksburg, because now that he was outside his fears for Grant

disappeared, and he knew that he must win.

 

While he remained in the path a deep boom came from the direction of the

Union army and a huge shell burst over the town. It was followed in a

moment by another and then by many others. While the besieged rejoiced

in victory the besiegers had begun anew the terrible bombardment,

sending a warning that the iron ring still held.

 

Dick paused no longer, but ran rapidly along the path until he emerged

upon the open plateau and proceeded toward the center of the town. He

judged that in the hours following a great battle, while there was yet

much confusion, he would find his best chance.

 

He had reckoned rightly. There was a great passing to and fro in

Vicksburg, but its lights were dim. Oil and candles alike were scarce,

and there was little but the moon's rays to disclose a town to the eye.

The rejoicings over the victory had brought more people than usual into

the streets, but the same exultation made them unsuspicious, and Dick

glided among them in the dusk, almost without fear.

 

He had concluded that "the longest way around was the shortest way

through," and he directed his steps toward the river. He had formed a

clear plan at last, and he believed that it would succeed. Twisting and

turning, always keeping in the shadows, he made good progress, descended

the bluff, and at last stood behind the ruins of an old warehouse near

the stream.

 

Southern batteries were not far away from him and he heard the men

talking. Then, strengthening his resolution, he came from behind the

ruins, flung himself almost flat on the ground, and crawled toward the

river, pushing in front of him a board, which some Northern gun had shot

from the warehouse.

 

He knew that his task was difficult and dangerous, though in the last

resort he could rush to the water and spring in. But he was almost

at the edge before any sentinel saw the black shadow passing over the

ground.

 

A hail came, and Dick flattened himself against the ground and lay

perfectly still. Evidently the sentinel was satisfied that his fancy had

been making merry with him, as he did not look further at the shadow,

and Dick, after waiting two or three minutes, resumed his slow creeping.

 

He reached the edge, shoved the board into it, and dropped gently into

the water beside it, submerged to the head. Then, pushing his support

before him, he struck out for the middle of the stream.