Part 18 (1/2)
The lad withdrew hastily, but driven by an overmastering curiosity, and knowing that he was doing no harm, he turned back and watched for a little s.p.a.ce beside a bush.
The flame of the candle wavered under the wind, and sometimes the light shone full upon the face of Thomas. It was the same face that d.i.c.k had first beheld when he carried the dispatches to him in Kentucky. He was calm, inscrutable at this, the most desperate crisis the Union cause ever knew in the west. d.i.c.k could not see that his hand trembled a particle as he wrote, although lieutenant and general alike knew that they would soon be attacked by a superior force, flushed with all the high enthusiasm of victory. And lieutenant and general alike also knew that their supreme commander, Rosecrans, was no genius like Lee or Jackson, who could set numbers at naught, and choose time and place to suit themselves. Only stubborn courage to fight and die could avail.
But d.i.c.k drew courage from the strong, thick figure sitting there so impa.s.sively and apparently impervious to alarm. When he quit writing and began to give verbal orders, he spoke in even tones, in which no one could detect a trace of excitement. When the name, ”The Rock of Chickamauga,” became general, d.i.c.k remembered that night and knew how well it was deserved.
Thomas gave his last order and his generals went to their commands. d.i.c.k slipped back to his regiment, and lay down, but again could not sleep.
He waited in painful anxiety for the day. He had never before been in such a highly nervous state, not at s.h.i.+loh, nor Stone River, nor anywhere else. In those battles the chances were with the Union, but here they were against it. He recognized that once more, save for Thomas, the North had been outgeneraled. The army of Rosecrans had marched from Chattanooga directly upon the positions chosen by Bragg, where he was awaiting them with superior numbers. And the Confederate government in the East had been quick enough to seize the opportunity and quick enough to send the stalwart fighter, Longstreet, and his corps to help close down the trap.
He wondered with many a painful throbbing of the heart what the dawn would bring, and, unable to keep still any longer, he rose and went to the brow of the low hill, behind which they lay. Colonel Winchester was there walking through the scrub and trying to pick out something in the opposing forest with his gla.s.ses. The cold wind still blew from the mountains, and there were three high but distant torches, where the clumps of pines still burned.
”Restless, d.i.c.k?” said the Colonel. ”Well, so am I.”
”We have cause to be so, sir.”
”So we have, my lad. We thought the danger to the Union had pa.s.sed with Vicksburg and Gettysburg, but the day so soon to come may shatter all our hopes. They must have a hundred thousand men out there, and they've chosen time and place. What's more, they've succeeded so far. I don't hesitate to talk to you in this way, d.i.c.k, but you mustn't repeat what I say.”
”I shouldn't dream of doing so, sir.”
”I know you would not, but General Thomas apprehends a tremendous and terrible attack. Whatever happens, we have not long to wait for it. I think I feel the touch of the dawn in the wind.”
”It's coming, sir. I can see a faint tinge of gray in that cleft between the hills toward the east.”
”You have a good eye, d.i.c.k. I see it now, too. It's growing and turning to the color of silver. But I think we'll have time to get our breakfasts. General Thomas does not believe the first attack will be made upon our wing.”
The wind was freshening, as if it brought the dawn upon its edge. The night had been uncommonly cold for the time of the year in that lat.i.tude, and there was no sun yet to give warmth. But the men of Thomas were being awakened, and, as no fires were allowed, cold food was served to them.
”What's happened, d.i.c.k, while I was asleep?” asked Pennington.
”Nothing. The two armies are ready, and I think to-day will decide it.”
”I hope so. Two days are enough for any battle.”
Pennington's tone was jocular, but his words were not. His face was grave as he regarded the opposing forest. He had the feeling of youth that others might be killed, but not he. Nevertheless he was already mourning many a good comrade who would be lost before the night came again.
”There are the wasps!” said Warner, bending a listening ear. ”You can always hear them as they begin to sting. I wonder if skirmishers ever sleep?”
The shots were on the right, but they came from points far away. In front of them the forest and hills were silent.
”It's just as General Thomas thought,” said d.i.c.k. ”The main volume of their attack will be on our right and center. They know that Thomas stands here and that he's a mighty rock, hard to move. They expect to shatter all the rest of the line, and then whirl and annihilate us.”
”Let 'em come!” exclaimed Warner, with heightening color. ”Who's afraid?”
The dawn was spreading. The heavy mists that hung over the Chickamauga floated away. All the east was silver, and the darkness rolled back like a blanket. The west became silver in its turn, and the sun burned red fire in the east. The wind still blew fresh and cool off the mountains. The faint sound of trumpets came from far points on the Southern line. The crackling fire of the skirmishers increased.
”It's a wait for us,” said Colonel Winchester, standing amid his youthful staff. ”I can see them advancing in great columns against our right and center. Now their artillery opens!”
d.i.c.k put up his gla.s.ses and he, too, saw the mighty Southern army advancing. Their guns were already clearing the way for the advance, and the valleys echoed with the great concussion. Longstreet and Hill, anxious to show what the veterans of the East could do, were pouring them forward alive with all the fire and courage that had distinguished them in the Army of Northern Virginia.
The battle swelled fast. It seemed to the waiting veterans of Thomas that it had burst forth suddenly like a volcano. They saw the vast clouds of smoke gather again off there where their comrades stood, and, knowing the immense weight about to be hurled upon them, they feared for those men who had fought so often by their side.
Yet Thomas had been confident that the first attack would be made upon his own part of the line, that Bragg with an overwhelming force would seek to roll up his left. Nor had he reckoned wrong. The lingering of the bishop-general, Polk, over a late breakfast saved him from the first shock, and upset the plans of the Southern commander, who had given him strict orders to advance.
Dawn was long past, and to Bragg's great astonishment Polk had not moved. It seems incredible that the fate of great events can turn upon such trifles, and yet one wonders what would have happened had not Polk eaten breakfast so late the morning of the second day of Chickamauga. But when he did advance he attacked with the energy and vigor of those great churchmen of the Middle Ages, who were at once princes and warriors, leading their hosts to battle.
Portions of the men of Thomas were now coming into the combat, but the Winchesters were not yet engaged. They were lying down just behind the crest of their low hill and many murmurs were running through the ranks. It was the hardest of all things to wait, while sh.e.l.ls now and then struck among them. They saw to their right the vast volume of fire and smoke, while the roaring of the cannon and rifles was like the continued sweep of a storm.
The youthful soldier may be nervous and excited, or he may be calm. This was one of d.i.c.k's calm moments, and, while he watched and listened and tried to measure all that he saw and heard, he noted that the crash of the battle was moving slowly backward. He knew then that the Southern advance was succeeding, succeeding so far at least. He was quite sure now that the attack upon Thomas would be made soon and that it would come with the greatest violence.
He rose and rejoined Colonel Winchester again, and the two looked with awe at the gigantic combat, raging in a vast canopy of smoke, rent continuously by flashes of fire. d.i.c.k observed that the colonel was depressed and he knew the reason.
”Our men are being driven back,” he said.
”So they are,” said the colonel, ”and I fear that there is confusion among them, too.”
”But we'll hold fast here as we did yesterday!”
”I hope so. Yes, I know so, d.i.c.k. I've seen General Thomas twice this morning, and I know that this corps will never be routed. He's made up his mind to hold on or die. He's the Rock of Chickamauga.”
It was a name that d.i.c.k was to hear often afterward, and he repeated under his breath: ”The Rock of Chickamauga! The Rock of Chickamauga!” It rolled resoundingly off the tongue, and he liked it.
Then came a beat of hoofs and a cavalry regiment galloped into open ground beside them. It was Colonel Hertford's, numbering about three hundred men, some of whom were wounded. Their leader was excited, and, springing to the ground, he ran to Colonel Winchester. The two talked in quick, short sentences.
”Colonel,” exclaimed Hertford, ”we've just had a sharp brush with that demon, Forrest, and we've left some good men back there. But I've come both to help and to warn you. We're being driven back everywhere else, and now they're gathering an immense ma.s.s of troops for a gigantic attack on Thomas!”
d.i.c.k heard and his breath came fast. Colonel Hertford would bring no false news, and he could see with his own eyes that the storm was curving toward them. The two men hurried to Thomas, but in a few minutes returned. Colonel Hertford sprang into the saddle and formed his cavalry on the flank as a screen against the dreaded sweep of Forrest.
There was a lull for a moment in the tremendous uproar, and, Colonel Winchester walking back and forth before his men, spoke to them briefly. He was erect, pale and handsome, and his words came without a quiver. d.i.c.k had never admired him more.
”Men,” he said, ”you have never been beaten in battle, but your greatest test is now at hand. Within a few minutes you will be attacked by a force outnumbering you more than two to one. But these are the odds we love. We would not have them less. I tell you, speaking as a man to men who understand and fear not, that the fate of the day may rest with you. Many gallant comrades of ours have gone already to the far sh.o.r.e, and if we must go, too, to-day, let our journey be not less gallant than theirs. We can die but once, and if we must die, let us die here where we can serve our country most.”
His manner was quiet, but his words were thrilling, and the men of the regiment, springing to their feet, uttered a deep, full-throated cheer. Then sinking down again at the motion of his hand, they turned their faces to the enemy. The time had come.
The vast Southern front rushed from the wood, and the gray hors.e.m.e.n of Forrest, careless of death, swept down. It was a terrifying sight, that army coming on amid the thunder and lightning of battle, tens of thousands of rifle muzzles, tens of thousands of fierce brown faces showing through the smoke, and the tremendous battle yell of the South swelling over everything.
d.i.c.k felt a quiver, and then his body stiffened, as if it were about to receive a physical shock. The whole regiment fired as one man, and a gap appeared in the charging Southern column. Hertford and his horse charged upon the hostile cavalry, and all the brigades of Thomas met the Southern attack with a fire so heavy and deadly that the army of Bragg reeled back.
Then ensued the most tremendous scene through which d.i.c.k had yet pa.s.sed. The Southern army came again. Bragg, Breckinridge, Buckner, Longstreet, Hill, Cleburne and the others urged on the attacks. They had been victors everywhere else and they knew that they must drive back Thomas or the triumph would not be complete. They struck and spared not, least of all their own men. They poured them, Kentuckians, Tennesseeans, Georgians, Mississippians and all the rest upon Thomas without regard to life.
Kentuckians on the opposing sides met once again face to face. d.i.c.k did not know it then, but a regiment drawn from neighboring counties charged the Winchesters thrice and left their dead almost at his feet. He had little time to notice or measure anything amid the awful din and the continued shock of battle in which thousands of men were falling.
The clouds of smoke enveloped them at times, and at other times floated away. New clumps of pines, set on fire by the sh.e.l.ls, burned brightly like torches, lighting the way to death. Smoke, thick with the odors of burned gunpowder clogged eye, nose and throat. d.i.c.k and the lads around him gasped for breath, but they fired so fast into the dense Southern ma.s.ses that their rifle barrels grew hot to the touch.
The South was making her supreme effort. Her western sons were performing prodigies of valor, and Longstreet and the Virginians were fighting with all the courage that had distinguished them in the East.