CHAPTER XIV. THE DARK EVE OF SHILOH
Dick noticed as they went further into the forest how complete wasthe concealment of a great army, possible only in a country wooded soheavily, and in the presence of a careless enemy. The center was likethe front of the Southern force. Not a fire burned, not a torch gleamed.The horses were withdrawn so far that stamp or neigh could not be heardby the Union pickets.
"We'll stop here," said Robertson at length. "As you're a Kentuckian, Ithought it would be pleasanter for you to be handed over to Kentuckians.The Orphan Brigade to which I belong is layin' on the ground right infront of us, an' the first regiment is that of Colonel Kenton. I'll handyou over to him, an'--not 'cause I've got anything ag'inst you--I'll bemighty glad to do it, too, 'cause my back is already nigh breakin' withthe responsibility."
Dick started violently.
"What's hit you?" asked Robertson.
"Oh, nothing. You see, I'm nervous."
"You ain't tellin' the truth. But I don't blame you an' it don't matteranyway. Here we are. Jump down."
Dick sprang to the ground, and the others followed. While they heldthe reins they stood in a close circle about him. He had about as muchchance of escape as he had of flying.
Robertson walked forward, saluted some one who stood up in the dark, andsaid a few words in a low tone.
"Bring him forward," said a clear voice, which Dick recognized at once.
The little group of men opened out and Dick, stepping forth, met hisuncle face to face. It was now the time of Colonel George Kenton tostart violently.
"My God! You, Dick!" he exclaimed. "How did you come here?"
"I didn't come," replied the boy, who was now feeling more at ease. "Iwas brought here by four scouts of yours, who I must say saw their dutyand did it."
Colonel Kenton grasped his hand and shook it. He was very fond of thisyoung nephew of his. The mere fact that he was on the other side did notalter his affection.
"Tell me about it, Dick," he said. "And you, Sergeant Robertson, you andyour men are to be thanked for your vigilance and activity. You can gooff duty. You are entitled to your rest."
As they withdrew the sergeant, who passed by Dick and who had not misseda word of the conversation between him and his uncle, said to him:
"At least, young sir, I've returned you to your relatives, an' you're aminor, as I can see."
"It's so," said Dick as the sergeant passed on.
"They have not ill treated you?" said Colonel Kenton.
"No, they've been as kind as one enemy could be to another."
"It is strange, most strange, that you and I should meet here at such atime. Nay, Dick, I see in it the hand of Providence. You're to be savedfrom what will happen to your army tomorrow."
"I'd rather not be saved in this manner."
"I know it, but it is perhaps the only way. As sure as the stars arein Heaven your army will be destroyed in the morning, an' you'd bedestroyed with it. I'm fond of you, Dick, and so I'd rather you'd be inour rear, a prisoner, while this is happening."
"General Grant is a hard man to crush."
"Dick! Dick, lad, you don't know what you're talking about! Look at thething as it stands! We know everything that you're doing. Our spieslook into the very heart of your camp. You think that we are fifty milesaway, but a cannon shot from the center of our camp would reach thecenter of yours. Why, while we are here, ready to spring, this Grant, ofwhom you think so much, is on his way tonight to the little village ofSavannah to confer with Buell. In the dawn when we strike and roll hisbrigades back he will not be here. And that's your great general!"
Dick knew that his uncle was excited. But he had full cause to be.There was everything in the situation to inflame an officer's pride andanticipation. It was not too dark for Dick to see a spark leap from hiseyes, and a sudden flush of red appear in either tanned cheek. But forDick the chill came again, and once more his hair prickled at the roots.The ambush was even more complete than he had supposed, and GeneralGrant would not be there when it was sprung.
"Dick," said Colonel Kenton, "I have talked to you as I would not havetalked to anyone else, but even so, I would not have talked to you asI have, were not your escape an impossibility. You are unharmed, but toleave this camp you would have to fly."
"I admit it, sir."
"Come with me. There are men higher in rank than I who would wish to seea prisoner taken as you were."
Dick followed him willingly and without a word. Aware that he was not inthe slightest physical danger he was full of curiosity concerning whathe was about to see. The words, "men higher in rank than I," whipped hisblood.
Colonel Kenton led through the darkness to a deep and broad ravine, intowhich they descended. The sides and bottom of this ravine were clothedin bushes, and they grew thick on the edges above. It was much darkerhere, but Dick presently caught ahead of him the flicker of the firstlight that he had seen in the Southern army.
The boy's heart began to beat fast and hard. All the omens foretold thathe was about to witness something that he could never by any possibilityforget. They came nearer to the flickering light, and he made out seatedfigures around it. They were men wrapped in cavalry cloaks, because thenight air had now grown somewhat chill, and Dick knew instinctivelythat these were the Southern generals preparing for the hammer-stroke atdawn.
A sentinel, rifle in hand, met them. Colonel Kenton whispered with hima moment, and he went to the group. He returned in a moment andescorted Dick and his uncle forward. Colonel Kenton saluted and Dickinvoluntarily did the same.
It was a small fire, casting only a faint and flickering light, butDick, his eyes now used to the dusk, saw well the faces of the generals.He knew at once which was Johnston, the chief. He seemed older than therest, sixty at least, but his skin was clear and ruddy, and the firmface and massive jaw showed thought and power. Yet the countenanceappeared gloomy, as if overcast with care. Perhaps it was another omen!
By the side of Johnston sat a small but muscular man, swarthy, and inearly middle years. His face and gestures when he talked showed clearlythat he was of Latin blood. It was Beauregard, the victor of Bull Run,now second in command here, and he made a striking contrast to the sternand motionless Kentuckian who sat beside him and who was his chief.There was no uneasy play of Johnston's hands, no shrugging of theshoulders, no jerking of the head. He sat silent, his features a mask,while he listened to his generals.
On the other side was Braxton Bragg, brother-in-law of Jefferson Davis,who could never forget Bragg's kinship, and the service that he had donefifteen years before at Buena Vista, when he had broken with his gunsthe last of Santa Anna's squares, deciding the victory. By the side ofhim was Hardee, the famous tactician, taught in the best schools of bothAmerica and Europe. Then there was Polk, who, when a youth, had left thearmy to enter the church and become a bishop, and who was now a soldieragain and a general. Next to the bishop-general sat the man who had beenVice-President of the United States and who, if the Democracy hadheld together would now have been in the chair of Lincoln, John C.Breckinridge, called by his people the Magnificent, commonly accountedthe most splendid looking man in America.
"Bring the prisoner forward, Colonel Kenton," said General Johnston, ageneral upon whom the South, with justice, rested great hopes.
Dick stepped forward at once and he held himself firmly, as he felt theeyes of the six generals bent upon him. He was conscious even at themoment that chance had given him a great opportunity. He was there tosee, while the military genius of the South planned in the shadow of adark ravine a blow which the six intended to be crushing.
"Where was the prisoner taken?" said Johnston to Colonel Kenton.
"Sergeant Robertson and three other men of my command seized him as hewas about to enter the Northern lines. He was coming from the directionof Buell, where it is likely that he had gone to take a dispatch."
"Did you find any answer upon him."
"My men searched him carefully, sir, but foun
d nothing."
"He is in the uniform of a staff officer. Have you found to whatregiment in the Union army he belongs?"
"He is on the staff of Colonel Arthur Winchester, who commands one ofthe Kentucky regiments. I have also to tell you, sir, that his name isRichard Mason, and that he is my nephew."
"Ah," said General Johnston, "it is one of the misfortunes of civil warthat so many of us fight against our own relatives. For those who livein the border states yours is the common lot."
But Dick was conscious that the six generals were gazing at him withrenewed interest.
"Your surmise about his having been to Buell is no doubt correct," saidBeauregard quickly and nervously. "You left General Buell this morning,did you not, Mr. Mason?"
Dick remained silent.
"It is also true that Buell's army is worn down by his heavy marchover muddy roads," continued Beauregard as if he had not noticed Dick'sfailure to reply.
Dick's teeth were shut firmly, and he compressed his lips. He stoodrigidly erect, gazing now at the flickering flames of the little fire.
"I suggest that you try him on some other subject than Buell, GeneralBeauregard," said the bishop-general, a faint twinkle appearing in hiseyes. Johnston sat silent, but his blue eyes missed nothing.
"It is true also, is it not," continued Beauregard, "that General Granthas gone or is going tonight to Savannah to meet General Buell, andconfer with him about a speedy advance upon our army at Corinth?"
Dick clenched his teeth harder than ever, and a spasm passed over hisface. He was conscious that six pairs of eyes, keen and intent, ready tonote the slightest change of countenance and to read a meaning into it,were bent upon him. It was only by a supreme effort that he remainedmaster of himself, but after the single spasm his countenance remainedunmoved.
"You do not choose to answer," said Bragg, always a stern and ruthlessman, "but we can drag what you know from you."
"I am a prisoner of war," replied Dick steadily. "I was taken in fulluniform. I am no spy, and you cannot ill treat me."
"I do not mean that we would inflict any physical suffering upon you,"said Bragg. "The Confederacy does not, and will never resort to suchmethods. But you are only a boy. We can question you here, until,through very weakness of spirit, you will be glad to tell us all youknow about Buell's or any other Northern force."
"Try me, and see," said Dick proudly.
The blue eye of the silent Johnston flickered for an instant.
"But it is true," said Beauregard, resuming his role of cross-examiner,"that your army, considering itself secure, has not fortified againstus? It has dug no trenches, built no earthworks, thrown up no abatis!"
The boy stood silent with folded arms, and Colonel George Kenton,standing on one side, threw his nephew a glance of sympathy, tinged withadmiration.
"Still you do not answer," continued Beauregard, and now a strong noteof irony appeared in his tone, "but perhaps it is just as well. Youdo your duty to your own army, and we miss nothing. You cannot tellus anything that we do not know already. Whatever you may know we knowmore. We know tonight the condition of General Grant's army better thanGeneral Grant himself does. We know how General Buell and his army standbetter than General Buell himself does. We know the position of yourbrigades and the missing links between them better than your own brigadecommanders do."
The eyes of the Louisianian flashed, his swarthy face swelled and hisshoulders twitched. The French blood was strong within him. Just somight some general of Napoleon, some general from the Midi, have shownhis emotion on the eve of battle, an emotion which did not detract fromcourage and resolution. But the Puritan general, Johnston, raised adeprecatory hand.
"It is enough, General Beauregard," he said. "The young prisoner willtell us nothing. That is evident. As he sees his duty he does it, andI wish that our young men when they are taken may behave as well. Mr.Mason, you are excused. You remain in the custody of your uncle, but Iwarn you that there is none who will guard better against the remotestpossibility of your escape."
It was involuntary, but Dick gave his deepest military salute, and saidin a tone of mingled admiration and respect:
"General Johnston, I thank you."
The commander-in-chief of the Southern army bowed courteously in return,and Dick, following his uncle, left the ravine.
The six generals returned to their council, and the boy who would notanswer was quickly forgotten. Long they debated the morrow. Severalhave left accounts of what occurred. Johnston, although he had laid theremarkable ambush, and was expecting victory, was grave, even gloomy.But Beauregard, volatile and sanguine, rejoiced. For him the triumph waswon already. After their great achievement in placing their army, unseenand unknown, within cannon shot of the Union force, failure was to himimpossible.
Breckinridge, like his chief, Johnston, was also grave and did not saymuch. Hardee, as became one of his severe military training, discussedthe details, the placing of the brigades and the time of attack by each.Polk, the bishop-general, and Bragg, also had their part.
As they talked in low tones they moved the men over their chessboard.Now and then an aide was summoned, and soon departed swiftly and insilence to move a battery or a regiment a little closer to the Unionlines, but always he carried the injunction that no noise be made. Nota sound that could be heard three hundred yards away came from all thatgreat army, lying there in the deep woods and poised for its spring.
Meanwhile security reigned in the Union camp. The farm lads of the westand northwest had talked much over their fires. They had eaten goodsuppers, and by and by they fell asleep. But many of the officers stillsat by the coals and discussed the march against the Southern army atCorinth, when the men of Buell should join those of Grant. The pickets,although the gaps yet remained between those of the different brigades,walked back and forth and wondered at the gloom and intensity of thewoods in front of them, but did not dream of that which lay in the heartof the darkness.
The Southern generals in the ravine lingered yet a little longer. Adiagram had been drawn upon a piece of paper. It showed the positionof every Southern brigade, regiment, and battery, and of every Northerndivision, too. It showed every curve of the Tennessee, the winding linesof the three creeks, Owl, Lick, and Snake, and the hills and marshes.
The last detail of the plan was agreed upon finally, and they made itvery simple, lest their brigades and regiments should lose touch andbecome confused in the great forest. They were to attack continuallyby the right, press the Union army toward the right always, in orderto rush in and separate it from Pittsburg Landing on the Tennessee,and from the fleet and its stores. Then they meant to drive it into themarshes enclosed by the river and Snake Creek and destroy it.
The six generals rose, leaving the little fire to sputter out. GeneralJohnston was very grave, and so were all the others as they startedtoward their divisions, except Beauregard, who said in sanguine tones:
"Gentlemen, we shall sleep tomorrow night in the enemy's camp."
Word, in the mysterious ways of war, had slid through the camp thatthe generals were in council, and many soldiers, driven by overwhelmingcuriosity, had crept through the underbrush to watch the figures by thefire in the ravine. They could not hear, they did not seek to hear, butthey were held by a sort of spell. When they saw them separate, everyone moving toward his own headquarters, they knew that there wasnothing to await now but the dawn, and they stole back toward their ownheadquarters.
Dick had gone with Colonel Kenton to his own regiment, in the very heartof the Orphan Brigade, and on his way his uncle said:
"Dick, you will sleep among my own lads, and I ask you for your own saketo make no attempt to escape tonight. You would certainly be shot."
"I recognize that fact, sir, and I shall await a better opportunity."
"What to do with you in the morning I don't know, but we shall probablybe able to take care of you. Meanwhile, Dick, go to sleep if you can.See, our boys are spread here through the woods. If i
t were day you'dprobably find at least a dozen among them whom you know, and certainly ahundred are of blood kin to you, more or less."
Dick saw the dim forms stretched in hundreds on the ground, and,thanking his uncle for his kindness, he stretched himself upon anunoccupied bit of turf and closed his eyes. But it was impossible foryoung Richard Mason to sleep. He felt again that terrible thrillof agony, because he, alone, of all the score and more of Northernmillions, knew that the Southern trap was about to fall, and he couldnot tell.
Never was he further from sleep. His nerves quivered with actualphysical pain. He opened his eyes again and saw the dim forms lyingin row on row as far in the forest as his eye could reach. Then helistened. He might hear the rifle of some picket, more wary or moreenterprising than the others, sounding the alarm. But no such sound cameto his ears. It had turned warmer again, and he heard only the Southernwind, heavy with the odors of grass and flower, sighing through the tallforest.
An anger against his own surged up in his breast. Why wouldn't theylook? How could they escape seeing? Was it possible for one great armyto remain unknown within cannon shot of another a whole night? It wasincredible, but he had seen it, and he knew it. Fierce and bitter wordsrose to his lips, but he did not utter them.
Dick lay a long time, with his eyes open, and the night was passing aspeacefully as if there would be no red dawn. Occasionally he heard afaint stir near him, as some restless soldier turned on his side in hissleep, and now and then a muttered word from an officer who passed nearin the darkness.
Hours never passed more slowly. Colonel Kenton had gone back toward theNorthern lines, and the boy surmised that he would be one of the firstin the attack at dawn. He began to wonder if dawn would ever reallycome. Stars and a fair moon were out, and as nearly as he could judgefrom them it must be about three o'clock in the morning. Yet it seemedto him that he had been lying there at least twelve hours.
He shut his eyes again, but sleep was as far from him as ever. Afteranother long and almost unendurable period he opened them once more, andit seemed to him that there was a faint tint of gray in the east. He satup, and looking a long time, he was sure of it. The gray was deepeningand broadening, and at its center it showed a tint of silver. The dawnwas at hand, and every nerve in the boy's body thrilled with excitementand apprehension.
A murmur and a shuffling sound arose all around him. The sleepers wereawake, and they stood up, thousands of them. Cold food was givento them, and they ate it hastily. But they fondled their rifles andmuskets, and turned their faces toward the point where the Northern armylay, and from which no sound came.
Dick shivered all over. His head burned and his nerves throbbed. Toolate now! He had hoped all through the long night that somethingwould happen to carry a warning to that unsuspecting army. Nothing hadhappened, and in five minutes the attack would begin.
He stood up at his full height and sought to pierce with his eyes thefoliage in front of him, but the massed ranks of the Southerners nowstood between, and the batteries were wheeling into line.
A great throb and murmur ran through the forest. Dick looked upon facesbrown with the sun, and eyes gleaming with the fierce passion of victoryand revenge. They were going to avenge Henry and Donelson and all thelong and mortifying retreat from Kentucky. Dick saw them straining andlooking eagerly at their officers for the word to advance.
As if by a concerted signal the long and mellow peal of many trumpetscame from the front, the officers uttered the shout to charge, the wildand terrible rebel yell swelled from forty thousand throats, and theSouthern army rushed upon its foe.
The red dawn of Shiloh had come.
The Guns of Shiloh: A Story of the Great Western Campaign Page 16