CHAPTER XII. GRANT'S GREAT VICTORY
The night, early and wintry, put an end to the conflict, the fiercestand greatest yet seen in the West. Thousands of dead and wounded layupon the field and the hearts of the Southern leaders were full ofbitterness. They had seen the victory, won by courage and daring, takenfrom them at the very last moment. The farmer lads whom they led hadfought with splendid courage and tenacity. Defeat was no fault oftheirs. It belonged rather to the generals, among whom had been a wantof understanding and concert, fatal on the field of action. They saw,too, that they had lost more than the battle. The Union army had notonly regained all its lost positions, but on the right it had carriedthe Southern intrenchments, and from that point Grant's great guns coulddominate Donelson. They foresaw with dismay the effect of these factsupon their young troops.
When the night fell, and the battle ceased, save for the fitful boom ofcannon along the lines, Dick sank against an earthwork, exhausted. Hepanted for breath and was without the power to move. He regarded vaguelythe moving lights that had begun to show in the darkness, and he heardwithout comprehension the voices of men and the fitful fire of thecannon.
"Steady, Dick! Steady!" said a cheerful voice. "Now is the time torejoice! We've won a victory, and nothing can break General Grant'sdeath grip on Donelson!"
Colonel Winchester was speaking, and he put a firm and friendly handon the boy's shoulder. Dick came back to life, and, looking intohis colonel's face, he grinned. Colonel Winchester could have beenrecognized only at close range. His face was black with burnedgunpowder. His colonel's hat was gone and his brown hair flew in everydirection. He still clenched in his hand the hilt of his sword, of whicha broken blade not more than a foot long was left. His clothing had beentorn by at least a dozen bullets, and one had made a red streak acrossthe back of his left hand, from which the blood fell slowly, drop bydrop.
"You don't mind my telling you, colonel, that you're no beauty," saidDick, who felt a sort of hysterical wish to laugh. "You look as if thewhole Southern army had tried to shoot you up, but had merely clippedyou all around the borders."
"Laugh if it does you good," replied Colonel Winchester, a littlegravely, "but, young sir, you must give me the same privilege. Thisbattle, while it has not wounded you, has covered you with its grime.Come, the fighting is over for this day at least, and the regiment isgoing to take a rest--what there is left of it."
He spoke the last words sadly. He knew the terrible cost at which theyhad driven the Southern army back into the fort, and he feared thatthe full price was yet far from being paid. But he preserved a cheerfulmanner before the brave lads of his who had fought so well.
Dick found that Warner and Pennington both had wounds, although theywere too slight to incapacitate them. Sergeant Whitley, grave andunhurt, rejoined them also.
The winter night and their heavy losses could not discourage theNorthern troops. They shared the courage and tenacity of theircommander. They began to believe now that Donelson, despite its strengthand its formidable garrison, would be taken. They built the fires high,and ate heartily. They talked in sanguine tones of what they would do inthe morrow. Excited comment ran among them. They had passed from the pitof despair in the morning to the apex of hope at night. Exhausted, allsave the pickets fell asleep after a while, dreaming of fresh triumphson the morrow.
Had Dick's eyes been able to penetrate Donelson he would have beheld avery different scene. Gloom, even more, despair, reigned there. Theirgreat effort had failed. Bravery had availed nothing. Their frightfullosses had been suffered in vain. The generals blamed one another. Floydfavored the surrender of the army, but fancying that the Union troopshated him with special vindictiveness, and that he would not be safe asa prisoner, decided to escape.
Pillow declared that Grant could yet be beaten, but after a whilechanged to the view of Floyd. They yet had two small steamers in theCumberland which could carry them up the river. They left the commandto Buckner, the third in rank, and told him he could make the surrender.The black-bearded Forrest said grimly: "I ain't goin' to surrender mycavalry, not to nobody," and by devious paths he led them away throughthe darkness and to liberty. Colonel George Kenton rode with him.
The rumor that a surrender was impending spread to the soldiers. Not yetfirm in the bonds of discipline confusion ensued, and the high officerswere too busy escaping by the river to restore it. All through the nightthe two little steamers worked, but a vast majority of the troops wereleft behind.
But Dick could know nothing of this at the time. He was sleeping tooheavily. He had merely taken a moment to snatch a bit of food, and then,at the suggestion of his commanding officer, he had rolled himself inhis blankets. Sleep came instantly, and it was not interrupted untilWarner's hand fell upon his shoulder at dawn, and Warner's voice said inhis ear:
"Wake up, Dick, and look at the white flag fluttering over Donelson."
Dick sprang to his feet, sleep gone in an instant, and gazed towardDonelson. Warner had spoken the truth. White flags waved from the wallsand earthworks.
"So they're going to surrender!" said Dick. "What a triumph!"
"They haven't surrendered yet," said Colonel Winchester, who stood near."Those white flags merely indicate a desire to talk it over with us, butsuch a desire is nearly always a sure indication of yielding, and ourlads take it so. Hark to their cheering."
The whole Union army was on its feet now, joyously welcoming the sightof the white flags. They threw fresh fuel on their fires which blazedalong a circling rim of miles, and ate a breakfast sweetened with thesavor of triumph.
"Take this big tin cup of coffee, Dick," said Warner. "It'll warm youthrough and through, and we're entitled to a long, brown drink for ourvictory. I say victory because the chances are ninety-nine per cent outof a hundred that it is so. Let x equal our army, let y equal victory,and consequently x plus y equals our position at the present time."
"And I never thought that we could do it," said young Pennington, whosat with them. "I suppose it all comes of having a general who won'tgive up. I reckon the old saying is true, an' that Hold Fast is the bestdog of them all."
Now came a period of waiting. Colonel Winchester disappeared in thedirection of General Grant's headquarters, but returned after a whileand called his favorite aide, young Richard Mason.
"Dick," he said, "we have summoned the Southerners to surrender, andI want you to go with me to a conference of their generals. You may beneeded to carry dispatches."
Dick went gladly with the group of Union officers, who approachedFort Donelson under the white flag, and who met a group of Confederateofficers under a like white flag. He noticed in the very center of theSouthern group the figure of General Buckner, a tall, well-built manin his early prime, his face usually ruddy, now pale with fatigue andanxiety. Dick, with his uncle, Colonel Kenton, and his young cousin,Harry Kenton, had once dined at his house.
Nearly all the officers, Northern and Southern, knew one another well.Many of them had been together at West Point. Colonel Winchester andGeneral Buckner were well acquainted and they saluted, each smiling alittle grimly.
"I bring General Grant's demand for the surrender of Fort Donelson, andall its garrison, arms, ammunition, and other supplies," said ColonelWinchester. "Can I see your chief, General Floyd?"
The lips of Buckner pressed close together in a smile touched withirony.
"No, you cannot see General Floyd," he said, "because he is now far upthe Cumberland."
"Since he has abdicated the command I wish then to communicate withGeneral Pillow."
"I regret that you cannot speak to him either. He is as far up theCumberland as General Floyd. Both departed in the night, and I am leftin command of the Southern army at Fort Donelson. You can state yourdemands to me, Colonel Winchester."
Dick saw that the brave Kentuckian was struggling to hide his chagrin,and he had much sympathy for him. It was in truth a hard task thatFloyd and Pillow had left for Buckner. They had allowed themselves tobe t
rapped and they had thrown upon him the burden of surrendering. ButBuckner proceeded with the negotiations. Presently he noticed Dick.
"Good morning, Richard," he said. "It seems that in this case, at least,you have chosen the side of the victors."
"Fortune has happened to be on our side, general," said Dickrespectfully. "Could you tell me, sir, if my uncle, Colonel Kenton, isunhurt?"
"He was, when he was last with us," replied General Buckner, kindly."Colonel Kenton went out last night with Forrest's cavalry. He will notbe a prisoner."
"I am glad of that," said the boy.
And he was truly glad. He knew that it would hurt Colonel Kenton's prideterribly to become a prisoner, and although they were now on oppositesides, he loved and respected his uncle.
The negotiations were completed and before night the garrison ofDonelson, all except three thousand who had escaped in the night withFloyd and Pillow and Forrest, laid down their arms. The answer to BullRun was complete. Fifteen thousand men, sixty-five cannon, and seventeenthousand rifles and muskets were surrendered to General Grant. Thebulldog in the silent westerner had triumphed. With only a last chanceleft to him he had turned defeat into complete victory, and had dealt astunning blow to the Southern Confederacy, which was never able like theNorth to fill up its depleted ranks with fresh men.
Time alone could reveal to many the deadly nature of this blow, butDick, who had foresight and imagination, understood it now at least inpart. As he saw the hungry Southern boys sharing the food of their lateenemies his mind traveled over the long Southern line. Thomas had beatenit in Eastern Kentucky, Grant had dealt it a far more crushing blow herein Western Kentucky, but Albert Sidney Johnston, the most formidablefoe of all, yet remained in the center. He was a veteran general witha great reputation. Nay, more, it was said by the officers who knewhim that he was a man of genius. Dick surmised that Johnston, afterthe stunning blow of Donelson, would be compelled to fall back fromTennessee, but he did not doubt that he would return again.
Dick soon saw that all his surmises were correct. The news of Donelsonproduced for a little while a sort of paralysis at Richmond, and when itreached Nashville, where the army of Johnston was gathering, it was atfirst unbelievable. It produced so much excitement and confusion thata small brigade sent to the relief of Donelson was not called back, andmarched blindly into the little town of Dover, where it found itselfsurrounded by the whole triumphant Union army, and was compelled tosurrender without a fight.
Panic swept through Nashville. Everybody knew that Johnston would becompelled to fall back from the Cumberland River, upon the banks ofwhich the capital of Tennessee stood. Foote and his gunboats would comesteaming up the stream into the very heart of the city. Rumor magnifiedthe number and size of his boats. Again the Southern leaders felt thatthe rivers were always a hostile coil girdling them about, and lamentedtheir own lack of a naval arm.
Floyd had drawn off in the night from Donelson his own special commandof Virginians and when he arrived at Nashville with full news of thedefeat at the fortress, and the agreement to surrender, the panicincreased. Many had striven to believe that the reports were untrue, butnow there could be no doubt.
And the panic gained a second impetus when the generals set fire tothe suspension bridge over the river and the docks along its banks. Theinhabitants saw the signal of doom in the sheets of flame that rolledup, and all those who had taken a leading part in the Southern causeprepared in haste to leave with Johnston's army. The roads were chokedwith vehicles and fleeing people. The State Legislature, which was thenin session, departed bodily with all the records and archives.
But Dick, after the first hours of triumph, felt relaxed and depressed.After all, the victory was over their own people, and five thousand ofthe farmer lads, North and South, had been killed or wounded. But thisfeeling did not last long, as on the very evening of victory he wassummoned to action. Action, with him, always made the blood leap andhope rise. It was his own regimental chief, Arthur Winchester, whocalled him, and who told him to make ready for an instant departure fromDonelson.
"You are to be a cavalryman for a while, Dick," said Colonel Winchester."So much has happened recently that we scarcely know how we stand. Aboveall, we do not know how the remaining Southern forces are disposed,and I have been chosen to lead a troop toward Nashville and see. You,Warner, Pennington, that very capable sergeant, Whitley, and others whomyou know are to go with me. My force will number about three hundred andthe horses are already waiting on the other side."
They were carried over the river on one of the boats, and the littlecompany, mounting, prepared to ride into the dark woods. But before theydisappeared, Dick looked back and saw many lights gleaming in capturedDonelson. Once more the magnitude of Grant's victory impressed him.Certainly he had struck a paralyzing blow at the Southern army in thewest.
But the ride in the dark over a wild and thinly-settled countrysoon occupied Dick's whole attention. He was on one side of ColonelWinchester and Warner was on the other. Then the others came fourabreast. At first there was some disposition to talk, but it was checkedsharply by the leader, and after a while the disposition itself waslacking.
Colonel Winchester was a daring horseman, and Dick soon realized thatit would be no light task to follow where he led. Evidently he knew thecountry, as he rode with certainty over the worst roads that Dick hadever seen. They were deep in mud which froze at night, but not solidlyenough to keep the feet of the horses from crushing through, making acrackle as they went down and a loud, sticky sigh as they came out. Allwere spattered with mud, which froze upon them, but they were so muchinured to hardship now that they paid no attention to it.
But this rough riding soon showed so much effect upon the horses thatColonel Winchester led aside into the woods and fields, keeping parallelwith the road. Now and then they stopped to pull down fences, but theystill made good speed. Twice they saw at some distance cabins with thesmoke yet rising from the chimneys, but the colonel did not stop to askany questions. Those he thought could be asked better further on.
Twice they crossed creeks. One the horses could wade, but the other wasso deep that they were compelled to swim. On the further bank of thesecond they stopped a while to rest the horses and to count the men tosee that no straggler had dropped away in the darkness. Then they spranginto the saddle again and rode on as before through a country thatseemed to be abandoned.
There was a certain thrill and exhilaration in their daring ride. Thesmoke and odors of the battle about Donelson were blown away. The deadand the wounded, the grewsome price even of victory, no longer laybefore their eyes, and the cold air rushing past freshened their bloodand gave it a new sparkle. Every one in the little column knew thatdanger was plentiful about them, but there was pleasure in action in theopen.
Their general direction was Nashville, and now they came into a country,richer, better cultivated, and peopled more thickly. Toward night theysaw on a gentle hill in a great lawn and surrounded by fine trees alarge red brick house, with green shutters and portico supported bywhite pillars. Smoke rose from two chimneys. Colonel Winchester haltedhis troop and examined the house from a distance for a little while.
"This is the home of wealthy people," he said at last to Dick, "and wemay obtain some information here. At least we should try it."
Dick had his doubts, but he said nothing.
"You, Mr. Pennington, Mr. Warner and Sergeant Whitley, dismount withme," continued the colonel, "and we'll try the house."
He bade his troop remain in the road under the command of the officernext in rank, and he, with those whom he had chosen, opened the lawngate. A brick walk led to the portico and they strolled along it, theirspurs jingling. Although the smoke still rose from the chimneys no dooropened to them as they stepped into the portico. All the green shutterswere closed tightly.
"I think they saw us in the road," said Dick, "and this is a house ofstaunch Southern sympathizers. That is why they don't open to us."
"Beat
on the door with the hilt of your sword, sergeant," said thecolonel to Whitley. "They're bound to answer in time."
The sergeant beat steadily and insistently. Yet he was forced tocontinue it five or six minutes before it was thrown open. Then a tallold woman with a dignified, stern face and white hair, drawn back fromhigh brows, stood before them. But Dick's quick eyes saw in the dusk ofthe room behind her a girl of seventeen or eighteen.
"What do you want?" asked the woman in a tone of ice. "I see that youare Yankee soldiers, and if you intend to rob the house there is no onehere to oppose you. Its sole occupants are myself, my granddaughter, andtwo colored women, our servants. But I tell you, before you begin, thatall our silver has been shipped to Nashville."
Colonel Winchester flushed a deep crimson, and bit his lips savagely.
"Madame," he said, "we are not robbers and plunderers. These are regularsoldiers belonging to General Grant's army."
"Does it make any difference? Your armies come to ravage and destroy theSouth."
Colonel Winchester flushed again but, remembering his self-control, hesaid politely:
"Madame, I hope that our actions will prove to you that we have beenmaligned. We have not come here to rob you or disturb you in any manner.We merely wished to inquire of you if you had seen any other Southernarmed forces in this vicinity."
"And do you think, sir," she replied in the same uncompromising tones,"if I had seen them that I would tell you anything about it?"
"No, Madame," replied the Colonel bowing, "whatever I may have thoughtbefore I entered your portico I do not think so now."
"Then it gives me pleasure to bid you good evening, sir," she said, andshut the door in his face.
Colonel Winchester laughed rather sorely.
"She had rather the better of me," he said, "but we can't make war onwomen. Come on, lads, we'll ride ahead, and camp under the trees. It'seasy to obtain plenty of fuel for fires."
"The darkness is coming fast," said Dick, "and it is going to be verycold, as usual."
In a half hour the day was fully gone, and, as he had foretold, thenight was sharp with chill, setting every man to shivering. They turnedaside into an oak grove and pitched their camp. It was never hard toobtain fuel, as the whole area of the great civil war was largely inforest, and the soldiers dragged up fallen brushwood in abundance. Thenthe fires sprang up and created a wide circle of light and cheerfulness.
Dick joined zealously in the task of finding firewood and his searchtook him somewhat further than the others. He passed all the way throughthe belt of forest, and noticed fields beyond. He was about to turn backwhen he heard a faint, but regular sound. Experience told him that itwas the beat of a horse's hoofs and he knew that some distance away aroad must lead between the fields.
He walked a hundred yards further, and climbing upon a fence waited.From his perch he could see the road about two hundred yards beyond him,and the hoof beats were rapidly growing louder. Some one was riding hardand fast.
In a minute the horseman or rather horsewoman, came into view. There wasenough light for Dick to see the slender figure of a young girl mountedon a great bay horse. She was wrapped in a heavy cloak, but her head wasbare, and her long dark hair streamed almost straight out behind her, sogreat was the speed at which she rode.
She struck the horse occasionally with a small riding whip, but he wasalready going like a racer. Dick remembered the slim figure of a girl,and it occurred to him suddenly that this was she whom he had seen inthe dusk of the room behind her grandmother. He wondered why she wasriding so fast, alone and in the winter night, and then he admitted witha thrill of admiration that he had never seen any one ride better. Thehoof beats rose, died away and then horse and girl were gone in thedarkness. Dick climbed down from the fence and shook himself. Was itreal or merely fancy, the product of a brain excited by so much siegeand battle?
He picked up a big dead bough in the wood, dragged it back to the campand threw it on one of the fires.
"What are you looking so grave about, Dick?" asked Warner.
"When I went across that stretch of woods I saw something that I didn'texpect to see."
"What was it?"
"A girl on a big horse. They came and they went so fast that I just gota glimpse of them."
"A girl alone, galloping on a horse on a wintry night like this througha region infested by hostile armies! Why Dick, you're seeing shadows!Better sit down and have a cup of this good hot coffee."
But Dick shook his head. He knew now that he had seen reality, and hereported it to Colonel Winchester.
"Are you sure it was the girl you saw at the big house?" asked ColonelWinchester. "It might have been some farmer's wife galloping home froman errand late in the evening."
"It was the girl. I am sure of it," said Dick confidently.
Just at that moment Sergeant Whitley came up and saluted.
"What is it, sergeant?" asked the Colonel.
"I have been up the road some distance, sir, and I came to another roadthat crossed it. The second road has been cut by hoofs of eight or ninehundred horses, and I am sure, sir, that the tracks are not a day old."
Colonel Winchester looked grave. He knew that he was deep in the countryof the enemy and he began to put together what Dick had seen and whatthe sergeant had seen. But the thought of withdrawing did not occur tohis brave soul. He had been sent on an errand by General Grant and hemeant to do it. But he changed his plans for the night. He had intendedto keep only one man in ten on watch. Instead, he kept half, andSergeant Whitley, veteran of Indian wars, murmured words of approvalunder his breath.
Whitley and Pennington were in the early watch. Dick and Warner were tocome on later. The colonel spoke as if he would keep watch all night.All the horses were tethered carefully inside the ring of pickets.
"It doesn't need any mathematical calculation," said Warner, "to tellthat the colonel expects trouble of some kind tonight. What its natureis, I don't know, but I mean to go to sleep, nevertheless. I havealready seen so much of hardship and war that the mere thought of dangerdoes not trouble me. I took a fort on the Tennessee, I took a muchlarger one on the Cumberland, first defeating the enemy's army in a bigbattle, and now I am preparing to march on Nashville. Hence, I will nothave my slumbers disturbed by a mere belief that danger may come."
"It's a good resolution, George," said Dick, "but unlike you, I amsubject to impulses, emotions, thrills and anxieties."
"Better cure yourself," said the Vermonter, as he rolled himself in theblankets and put his head on his arm. In two minutes he was asleep, butDick, despite his weariness, had disturbed nerves which refused tolet him sleep for a long time. He closed his eyes repeatedly, and thenopened them again, merely to see the tethered horses, and beyond themthe circle of sentinels, a clear moonlight falling on their riflebarrels. But it was very warm and cosy in the blankets, and he wouldsoon fall asleep again.
He was awakened about an hour after midnight to take his turn at thewatch, and he noticed that Colonel Winchester was still standing besideone of the fires, but looking very anxious. Dick felt himself on goodenough terms, despite his youth, to urge him to take rest.
"I should like to do so," replied Colonel Winchester, "but Dick I tellyou, although you must keep it to yourself, that I think we are in somedanger. Your glimpse of the flying horsewoman, and the undoubted factthat hundreds of horsemen have crossed the road ahead of us, have mademe put two and two together. Ah, what is it, sergeant?"
"I think I hear noises to the east of us, sir," replied the veteran.
"What kind of noises, sergeant?"
"I should say, sir, that they're made by the hoofs of horses. There, Ihear them again, sir. I'm quite sure of it, and they're growing louder!"
"And so do I!" exclaimed Colonel Winchester, now all life and activity."The sounds are made by a large body of men advancing upon us! Seizethat bugle, Dick, and blow the alarm with all your might!"
Dick snatched up the bugle and blew upon it a long shr
ill blast thatpierced far into the forest. He blew and blew again, and every man inthe little force sprang to his feet in alarm. Nor were they a moment toosoon. From the woods to the east came the answering notes of a bugle andthen a great voice cried:
"Forward men an' wipe 'em off the face of the earth!"
It seemed to Dick that he had heard that voice before, but he had notime to think about it, as the next instant came the rush of the wildhorsemen, a thousand strong, leaning low over their saddles, theirfaces dark with the passion of anger and revenge, pistols, rifles, andcarbines flashing as they pulled the trigger, giving way when empty tosabres, which gleamed in the moonlight as they were swung by powerfulhands.
Colonel Winchester's whole force would have been ridden down in thetwinkling of an eye if it had not been for the minute's warning. Hismen, leaping to their feet, snatched up their own rifles and fired avolley at short range. It did more execution among the horses than amongthe horsemen, and the Southern rough riders were compelled to waver fora moment. Many of their horses went down, others uttered the terribleshrieking neigh of the wounded, and, despite the efforts of those whorode them, strove to turn and flee from those flaming muzzles. It wasonly a moment, but it gave the Union troop, save those who were alreadyslain, time to spring upon their horses and draw back, at the colonel'sshouted command, to the cover of the wood. But they were driven hard.The Confederate cavalry came on again, impetuous and fierce as ever, andurged continually by the great partisan leader, Forrest, now in the verydawn of his fame.
"It was no phantom you saw, that girl on the horse!" shouted Warner inDick's ear, and Dick nodded in return. They had no time for other words,as Forrest's horsemen, far outnumbering them, now pressed them harderthan ever. A continuous fire came from their ranks and at close rangethey rode in with the sabre.
Dick experienced the full terror and surprise of a night battle. Theopposing forces were so close together that it was often difficultto tell friend from enemy. But Forrest's men had every advantage ofsurprise, superior numbers and perfect knowledge of the country. Dickgroaned aloud as he saw that the best they could do was to save as manyas possible. Why had he not taken a shot at the horse of that flyinggirl?
"We must keep together, Dick!" shouted Warner. "Here are Pennington andSergeant Whitley, and there's Colonel Winchester. I fancy that if we canget off with a part of our men we'll be doing well."
Pennington's horse, shot through the head, dropped like a stone to theground, but the deft youth, used to riding the wild mustangs ofthe prairie, leaped clear, seized another which was galloping aboutriderless, and at one bound sprang into the saddle.
"Good boy!" shouted Dick with admiration, but the next moment thehorsemen of Forrest were rushing upon them anew. More men were killed,many were taken, and Colonel Winchester, seeing the futility of furtherresistance, gathered together those who were left and took flightthrough the forest.
Tears of mortification came to Dick's eyes, but Sergeant Whitley, whorode on his right hand, said:
"It's the only thing to do. Remember that however bad your position maybe it can always be worse. It's better for some of us to escape than forall of us to be down or be taken."
Dick knew that his logic was good, but the mortification neverthelessremained a long time. There was some consolation, however, in the factthat his own particular friends had neither fallen nor been taken.
They still heard the shouts of pursuing horsemen, and shots rattledabout them, but now the covering darkness was their friend. They drewslowly away from all pursuit. The shouts and the sounds of tramplinghoofs died behind them, and after two hours of hard riding ColonelWinchester drew rein and ordered a halt.
It was a disordered and downcast company of about fifty who were left. Afew of these were wounded, but not badly enough to be disabled. ColonelWinchester's own head had been grazed, but he had bound a handkerchiefabout it, and sat very quiet in his saddle.
"My lads," he said, and his tone was sharp with the note of defiance."We have been surprised by a force greatly superior to our own, andscarcely a sixth of us are left. But it was my fault. I take the blame.For the present, at least, we are safe from the enemy, and I intend tocontinue with our errand. We were to scout the country all the way toNashville. It is also possible that we will meet the division of GeneralBuell advancing to that city. Now, lads, I hope that you all will bewilling to go on with me. Are you?"
"We are!" roared fifty together, and a smile passed over the wan face ofthe colonel. But he said no more then. Instead he turned his head towardthe capital city of the state, and rode until dawn, his men followingclose behind him. The boys were weary. In truth, all of them were, butno one spoke of halting or complained in any manner.
At sunrise they stopped in dense forest at the banks of a creek, andwatered their horses. They cooked what food they had left, and aftereating rested for several hours on the ground, most of them going tosleep, while a few men kept a vigilant watch.
When Dick awoke it was nearly noon, and he still felt sore fromhis exertions. An hour later they all mounted and rode again towardNashville. Near night they boldly entered a small village and boughtfood. The inhabitants were all strongly Southern, but villagers love totalk, and they learned there in a manner admitting of no doubt, thatthe Confederate army was retreating southward from the line of theCumberland, that the state capital had been abandoned, and that to theeastward of them the Union army, under Buell, was advancing swiftly onNashville.
"At least we accomplished our mission," said Colonel Winchester withsome return of cheerfulness. "We have discovered the retreat of GeneralJohnston's whole army, and the abandonment of Nashville, invaluableinformation to General Grant. But we'll press on toward Nashvillenevertheless."
They camped the next night in a forest and kept a most vigilant watch.If those terrible raiders led by Forrest should strike them again theycould make but little defense.
They came the next morning upon a good road and followed it withoutinterruption until nearly noon, when they saw the glint of arms across awide field. Colonel Winchester drew his little troop back into the edgeof the woods, and put his field glasses to his eyes.
"There are many men, riding along a road parallel to ours," he said."They look like an entire regiment, and by all that's lucky, they're inthe uniforms of our own troops. Yes, they're our own men. There can beno mistake. It is probably the advance guard of Buell's army."
They still had a trumpet, and at the colonel's order it was blown longand loud. An answering call came from the men on the parallel road, andthey halted. Then Colonel Winchester's little troop galloped forwardand they were soon shaking hands with the men of a mounted regiment fromOhio. They had been sent ahead by Buell to watch Johnston's army, buthearing of the abandonment of Nashville, they were now riding straightfor the city. Colonel Winchester and his troop joined them gladly andthe colonel rode by the side of the Ohio colonel, Mitchel.
Dick and his young comrades felt great relief. He realized the terribleactivity of Forrest, but that cavalry leader, even if he had not nowgone south, would hesitate about attacking the powerful regiment withwhich Dick now rode. Warner and Pennington shared his feelings.
"The chances are ninety per cent in our favor," said the Vermonter,"that we'll ride into Nashville without a fight. I've never been inTennessee before, and I'm a long way from home, but I'm curious to seethis city. I'd like to sleep in a house once more."
They rode into Nashville the next morning amid frowning looks, but thehalf deserted city offered no resistance.
The Guns of Shiloh: A Story of the Great Western Campaign Page 14