CHAPTER III. GRANT MOVES
The Winchester regiment had not suffered greatly. A dozen men who hadfallen were given speedy burial, and all the wounded were taken away onhorseback by their friends. Dick rejoiced greatly at their escape fromForrest, and the daring and skill of Grierson. He felt anew that he wasin stronger hands in the West than he had been in the East. In the Eastthings seemed to go wrong nearly always, and the West they seemed togo right nearly always. It could not be chance continued so long. Hebelieved in his soul that it was Grant, the heroic Thomas, and the greatfighting powers of the western men, used to all the roughness of lifeout-of-doors and on the border.
They turned their course toward the Mississippi and that afternoon theymet a Union scout who told them that Grant, now in the very heart of thefar South, was gathering his forces for a daring attack upon GrandGulf, a Confederate fortress on the Mississippi. In the North and atWashington his venture was regarded with alarm. There was a telegramto him to stop, but it was sent too late. He had disappeared in theSouthern wilderness.
But Dick understood. He had both knowledge and intuition. ColonelWinchester on his long and daring scout had learned that the Confederateforces in the South were scattered and their leaders in doubt. Grant,taking a daring offensive and hiding his movements, had put them on thedefensive, and there were so many points to defend that they did notknow which to choose. Joe Johnston, just recovered from his wound atFair Oaks the year before, and a general of the first rank, was coming,but he was not yet here.
Meanwhile Pemberton held the chief command, but he seemed to lack energyand decision. There were forces under other generals scattered along theriver, including eight thousand commanded by Bowen, who held Grand Gulf,but concert of action did not exist among them.
This knowledge was not Dick's alone. It extended to every man inthe regiment, and when the colonel urged them to greater speed theyresponded gladly.
"If we don't ride faster," he said, "we won't be up in time for thetaking of Grand Gulf."
No greater spur was needed and the Winchester regiment went forward asfast as horses could carry them.
"I take it that Grant means to scoop in the Johnnies in detail," saidWarner.
"It seems so," said Pennington. "This is a big country down here, and wecan fight one Confederate army while another is mired up a hundred milesaway.
"That's General Grant's plan. He doesn't look like any hero of romance,but he acts like one. He plunges into the middle of the enemy, and if hegets licked he's up and at 'em again right away."
Night closed in, and they stopped at an abandoned plantation--it seemedto Dick that the houses were abandoned everywhere--where they spent thenight. The troopers would have willingly pushed on through the darkness,but the horses were so near exhaustion that another hour or two wouldhave broken them down permanently. Moreover, Colonel Winchester did notfeel much apprehension of an attack now. Forrest had certainly turnedin another direction, and they were too close to the Union lines to beattacked by any other foe.
The house on this plantation was not by any means so large and fine asBellevue, but, like the other, it had broad piazzas all about it, andDick, in view of his strenuous experience, was allowed to take hissaddle as a pillow and his blankets and go to sleep soon after dark in acomfortable place against the wall.
Never was slumber quicker or sweeter. There was not an unhealthy tissuein his body, and most of his nerves had disappeared in a life amidbattles, scoutings, and marchings. He slept heavily all through thenight, inhaling new strength and vitality with every breath of thecrisp, fresh air. There was no interruption this time, and early in themorning the regiment was up and away.
They descended now into lower grounds near the Mississippi. All aroundthem was a vast and luxuriant vegetation, cut by sluggish streams andbayous. But the same desolation reigned everywhere. The people had fledbefore the advance of the armies. Late in the afternoon they saw picketsin blue, then the Mississippi, and a little later they rode into a Unioncamp.
"Dick," said Colonel Winchester, "I shall want you to go with the seniorofficers and myself to report to General Grant on the other side of theMississippi. You rode on that mission to Grierson and he may want to askyou questions."
Dick was glad to go with them. He was eager to see once more the man whohad taken Henry and Donelson and who had hung on at Shiloh until Buellcame. The general's tent was in a grove on a bit of high ground, and hewas sitting before it on a little camp stool, smoking a short cigar, andgazing reflectively in the direction of Grand Gulf.
He greeted the three officers quietly but with warmth and then helistened to Colonel Winchester's detailed account of what he had seenand learned in his raid toward Jackson. It was a long narrative, showinghow the Southern forces were scattered, and, as he listened, Grant'sface began to show satisfaction.
But he seldom interrupted.
"And you think they have no large force at Jackson?" he said.
"I'm quite sure of it," replied Colonel Winchester.
Grant chewed his cigar a little while and then said:
"Grierson is doing well. It was an achievement for you and him to beatoff Forrest. It will raise the prestige of our cavalry, which needs it.I believe it was you, Lieutenant Mason, who brought Grierson."
"It was chiefly, sir, a sergeant named Whitley. I rode with him andoutranked him, but he is a veteran of the plains, and it was he who didthe real work."
The general's stern features were lightened by a smile.
"I'm glad you give the sergeant credit," he said. "Not many officerswould do it."
He listened a while longer and then the three were permitted to withdrawto their regiment, which was posted back of Grand Gulf, and which hadquickly become a part of an army flushed with victory and eager forfurther action.
Before sunset Dick, Warner, and Pennington looked at Grand Gulf, alittle village standing on high cliffs overlooking the Mississippi,just below the point where the dark stream known as the Big Black Riverempties into the Father of Waters. Around the crown of the heights was aring of batteries and lower down, enclosing the town, was another ring.
Far off on the Mississippi the three saw puffing black smoke markingthe presence of a Union fleet, which never for one instant in the wholecourse of the war relaxed its grip of steel upon the Confederacy. Dick'sheart thrilled at the sight of the brave ships. He felt then, as most ofus have felt since, that whatever happened the American navy would neverfail.
"I hear the ships are going to bombard," said Warner.
"I heard so, too," said Pennington, "and I heard also that they willhave to do it under the most difficult circumstances. The water in frontof Grand Gulf is so deep that the ships can't anchor. It has a swiftcurrent, too, making at that point more than six knots an hour. Thereare powerful eddies, too, and the batteries crowning the cliffs areso high that the cannon of the gunboats will have trouble in reachingthem."
"Still, Mr. Pessimist," said Dick, "remember what the gunboats did atFort Henry. You'll find the same kind of men here."
"I wasn't trying to discourage you. I was merely telling the worstfirst. We're going to win. We nearly always win here in the West, but itseems to me the country is against us now. This doesn't look much likethe plains, Dick, with its big, deep rivers, its high bluffs along thebanks, and its miles and miles of swamp or wet lowlands. How wide wouldyou say the Mississippi is here?"
"Somewhere between a mile and a mile and a half."
"And they say it's two or three hundred feet deep. Look at the steamers,boys. How many are there?"
"I count seven pyramids of smoke," said Warner, "four in one group andthree in another. All the pyramids are becoming a little faint as thetwilight is advancing. Dick, you call me a cold mathematical person, butthis vast river flowing in its deep channel, the dark bluffs up there,and the vast forests would make me feel mighty lonely if you fellowswere not here. It's a long way to Vermont."
"Fifteen hundred or maybe two thousand miles," said
Dick, "but lookhow fast the dark is coming. I was wrong in saying it's coming. It justdrops down. The smoke of the steamers has melted into the night, and youdon't see them any more. The surface of the river has turned black asink, the bluffs of Grand Gulf have gone, and we've turned back three orfour hundred years."
"What do you mean by going back three or four hundred years?" askedWarner, looking curiously at Dick.
"Why, don't you see them out there?"
"See them out there? See what?"
"Why, the queer little ships with the high sides and prows! On my soul,George, they're the caravels of Spain! Look, they're stopping! Now theylower something in black over the side of the first caravel. I see a manin a black robe like a priest, holding a cross in his hand and standingat the ship's edge saying something. I think he's praying, boys. Nowsailors cut the ropes that hold the dark object. It falls into the riverand disappears. It's the burial of De Soto in the Father of Waters whichhe discovered!"
"Dick, you're dreaming," exclaimed Pennington.
"Yes, I know, but once there was a Chinaman who dreamed that he was alily. When he woke up he didn't know whether he was a Chinaman who haddreamed he was a lily or a lily now dreaming he was a Chinaman."
"I like that story, Dick, but you've got too much imagination. The taleof the death and burial of De Soto has always been so vivid to you thatyou just stood there and re-created the scene for yourself."
"Of course that's it," said Pennington, "but why can't a fellow createthings with his mind, when things that don't exist jump right up beforehis eyes? I've often seen the mirage, generally about dark, far out onthe western plains. I've seen a beautiful lake and green gardens wherethere was nothing but the brown swells rolling on."
"I concede all you say," said Dick readily. "I have flashes sometimes,and so does Harry Kenton and others I know."
"Flashes! What do you mean?" asked Warner.
"Why, a sort of lightning stroke out of the past. Something that lastsonly a second, but in which you have a share. Boys, one day I saw myselfa Carthaginian soldier following Hannibal over the Alps."
"Maybe," said Pennington, "we have lived other lives on this earth, andsometimes a faint glimpse of them comes to us. It's just a guess."
"That's so," said Warner, "and we'd better be getting back to theregiment. Grand Gulf defended by Bowen and eight thousand good men isreally enough for us. I think we're going to see some lively fightinghere."
The heavy boom of a cannon from the upper circle of batteries swept overthe vast sheet of water flowing so swiftly toward the Gulf. The soundcame back in dying echoes, and then there was complete silence amongbesieged and besiegers.
The Winchesters had found a good solid place, a little hill among themarshes, and they were encamped there with their horses. Dick had nomessages to carry, but he remained awake, while his comrades sleptsoundly. He had slept so much the night before that he had no desire forsleep now.
From his position he could see the Confederate bluffs and a few lightsmoving there, but otherwise the two armies were under a blanket ofdarkness. He again felt deeply the sense of isolation and loneliness,not for himself alone, but for the whole army. Grant had certainly shownsupreme daring in pushing far into the South, and the government atWashington had cause for alarm lest he be reckless. If there were anystrong hand to draw together the forces of the Confederacy they couldsurely crush him. But he had already learned in this war that those whostruck swift and hard were sure to win. That was Stonewall Jackson'sway, and it seemed to be Grant's way, too.
Still unable to sleep, he walked to a better position, where he couldsee the shimmering dark of the river and the misty heights with theirtwo circles of cannon. A tall figure standing there turned at his treadand he recognized Colonel Winchester.
"Uneasy at our position, Dick?" said the colonel, fathoming his mind atonce.
"A little, sir, but I think General Grant will pull us through."
"He will, Dick, and he'll take this fort, too. Grant's the hammer we'vebeen looking for. Look at his record. He's had backsets, but in the endhe's succeeded in everything he's tried. The Confederate government andleaders have made a mess of their affairs in the West and Southwest, andGeneral Grant is taking full advantage of it."
"Do we attack in the morning, sir?"
"We do, Dick, though not by land. Porter, with his seven gunboats, isgoing to open on the fort, but it will be a hazardous undertaking."
"Because of the nature of the river, sir?"
"That's it. They can't anchor, and with full steam up, caught in all theviolent eddies that the river makes rounding the point, they'll have tofire as best they can."
"But the gunboats did great work at Fort Henry, sir."
"So they did, Dick, and we've come a long way South since then, whichmeans that we're making progress and a lot of it here in the West. Well,we'll see to-morrow."
They walked back to their own camp and sleep came to Dick at last. Buthe awoke early and found that the thrill of expectation was runningthrough the whole army. Their position did not yet enable them to attackon land, but far out on the river they saw the gunboats moving. Porter,the commander, divided them into two groups. Four of the gunboats wereto attack the lower circle of batteries and three were to pour theirfire upon the upper ring.
Dick by day even more than by night recognized the difficulty of thetask. Before them flowed the vast swift current of the Mississippi,gleaming now in the sunshine, and beyond were the frowning bluffs,crested and ringed with cannon. Grant had with him twenty thousand menand his seven gunboats, and Bowen, eight thousand troops. But if theaffair lasted long other Southern armies would surely come.
Dick and his comrades had little to do but watch and thousands watchedwith them. When the sun was fully risen the seven boats steamed out intwo groups, four farther down the river in order to attack the lowerbatteries, while the other three up the stream would launch their fireagainst those on the summit.
He watched the crest of the cliffs. He saw plainly through his glassesthe muzzles of cannon and men moving about the batteries. Then therewas a sudden blaze of fire and column of smoke and a shell struck in thewater near one of the gunboats. The boat replied and its comrades alsosent shot and shell toward the frowning summit. Then the batteries, bothlower and upper, replied with full vigor and all the cliffs were wrappedin fire and smoke.
The boats steamed in closer and closer, pouring an incessant fire fromtheir heavy guns, and both rings of batteries on the cliffs responded.The water of the river spouted up in innumerable little geysers and nowand then a boat was struck. Over both cliffs and river a great cloudof smoke lowered. It grew so dense that Dick and his comrades, watchingwith eagerness, were unable to tell much of what was happening.
Yet as the smoke lifted or was shot through with the blaze of cannonfire they saw that their prophecies were coming true. The boats in watertoo deep for anchorage were caught in the powerful eddies and theircaptains had to show their best seamanship while they steamed back andforth.
The battle between ship and shore went on for a long time. It seemed atlast to the watching Union soldiers that the fire from the lower line ofbatteries was diminishing.
"We're making some way," said Warner.
"It looks like it," said Dick. "Their lower batteries are not so wellprotected as the upper."
"If we were only over there, helping with our own guns."
"But there's a big river in between, and we've got to leave it to theboats for to-day, anyhow."
"Look again at those lower batteries. Their fire is certainlydecreasing. I can see it die down."
"Yes, and now it's stopped entirely. The boats have done good work!"
A tremendous cheer burst from the troops on the west shore as they sawhow much their gallant little gunboats had achieved. Every gun in thelower batteries was silent now, but the top of the cliffs was stillalive with flame. The batteries there were far from silent. Insteadtheir fire was increasing in volume and power.
"They can't win! They can't win!" he exclaimed. "They'd better draw offbefore they're sunk!"
"So they had," said Warner sadly. "Boats are at a disadvantage fightingbatteries. The old darky was right when he preferred a train wreck to aboat wreck, 'ef the train's smashed, thar you are on the solid ground,but ef the boat blows up, whar is you?' That's sense. The boats areretiring! It's sad, but it's sense. A boat that steams away will live tofight another day."
Dick was dejected. He fancied he could hear the cheering of their foesat what looked like a Union defeat, but he recalled that Grant, thebulldog, led them. He would never think of retiring, and he was sure tobe ready with some new attempt.
The gunboats drew off to the far western shore and lay there, puffingsmoke defiantly. Their fight with the batteries had lasted five hoursand they had suffered severely. It seemed strange to Dick that none ofthem had been sunk, and in fact it was strange. All had been hit manytimes, and one had been pierced by nearly fifty shot or shell. Theirkilled or wounded were numerous, but their commanders and crews werestill resolute, and ready to go into action whenever General Grantwished.
"Spunky little fellows," said Pennington. "We don't have many boats outwhere I live, but I must hand a bunch of laurel to the navy every time."
"And you can bind wreaths around the hair of those navy fellows, too,"said Warner, "and sing songs in their honor whether they win or lose."
"Now I wonder what's next," said Dick.
To their surprise the gunboats opened fire again just before sundown,and the batteries replied fiercely. Rolling clouds of smoke mingledwith the advancing twilight, and the great guns from either side flashedthrough the coming darkness. Then from a stray word or two droppedby Colonel Winchester Dick surmised the reason of this new and ratherdistant cannonade.
He knew that General Grant had transports up the river above Grand Gulf,and he believed that they were now coming down the stream under cover ofthe bombardment and the darkness. He confided his belief to Warner, whoagreed with him. Presently they saw new coils of smoke in the darknessand knew they were right. The transports, steaming swiftly, were soonbeyond the range of the batteries, and then the gun boats, drawing off,dropped down the river with them.
Long before the boats reached a point level with Grant's camp the armywas being formed in line for embarkation on the gunboats and transports.The horses were to be placed on one or two of the transports and the menfilled all the other vessels.
"You can't down Grant," said Pennington. "A failure with him merelymeans that he's going to try again."
"But don't forget the navy and the Father of Waters," said Dick, astheir transports swung from the shore upon the dark surface of theriver. "The mighty rivers help us. Look how we went up the Cumberlandand the Tennessee and now we've harnessed a flowing ocean for ourservice."
"Getting poetical, Dick," said Warner.
"I feel it and so do you. You can't see the bluffs any more. There'snothing in sight, but the lights of the steamers and the transports. Wemust be somewhere near the middle of the stream, because I can't makeout either shore."
There were two regiments aboard the transport, the Winchester and onefrom Ohio, which had fought by their side at both Perryville and StoneRiver. Usually these boys chattered much, but now they were silent,permeated by the same feelings that had overwhelmed Dick. In thedarkness--all lights were concealed as much as possible--with both banksof the vast river hidden from them, they felt that they were in verytruth afloat upon a flowing ocean.
They knew little about their journey, except that they were destined forthe eastern shore, the same upon which Grand Gulf stood, but they didnot worry about this lack of knowledge. They were willing to trust toGrant, and most of them were already asleep, upon the decks, in thecabins, or in any place in which a human body could secure a position.
Dick did not sleep. The feeling of mystery and might made by thetremendous river remained longer in his sensitive and imaginativenature. His mind, too, looked backward. He knew that the greatgrandfathers of Harry Kenton and himself, the famous Henry Ware and thefamous Paul Cotter, had passed up and down this monarch of streams.He knew of their adventures. How often had he and his cousin, who now,alas! was on the other side, listened to the stories of those mightydays as they were handed from father to son! Those lads had floatedin little boats and he was on a steamer, but it seemed to him that theriver with its mighty depths took no account of either, steamer or canoebeing all the same to its vast volume of water.
He was standing by the rail looking over, when happening to glance backhe saw by the ship's lantern what he thought was a familiar face. Asecond glance and he was sure. He remembered that fair-haired Ohio lad,and, smiling, he said:
"You're one of those Ohio boys who, marching southward from its mouthin the Ohio, drank the tributary river dry clear to its source, themightiest achievement in quenching thirst the world has ever known.You're the boy, too, who told about it."
The youth moved forward, gazed at him and said:
"Now I remember you, too. You're Dick Mason of the Winchester regiment.I heard the Winchesters were on board, but I haven't had time to lookaround. It was hot when we drank up the river, but it was hotter thatafternoon at Perryville. God! what a battle! And again at StoneRiver, when the Johnnies surprised us and took us in flank. It was youKentuckians then who saved us."
"Just as you would have saved us, if it had been the other way."
"I hope so. But, Mason, we left a lot of the boys behind. A big crowdstopped forever at Perryville, and a bigger at Stone River."
"And we left many of ours, too. I suppose we'll land soon, won't we, andthen take these Grand Gulf forts with troops."
"Yes, that's the ticket, but I hear, Mason, it's hard to find a landingon the east side. The banks are low there and the river spreads out toa vast distance. After the boats go as far as they can we'll have to getoff in water up to our waists and wade through treacherous floods."
The question of landing was worrying Grant at that time and worrying himterribly. The water spread far out over the sunken lands and he mighthave to drop down the river many miles before he could find a landing onsolid ground, a fact which would scatter his army along a long line, andexpose it to defeat by the Southern land forces. But his anxieties wererelieved early in the morning when a colored man taken aboard from acanoe told him of a bayou not five miles below Grand Gulf up which hisgunboats and transports could go and find a landing for the troops onsolid ground.
Dick was asleep when the boats entered the bayou, but he was soonawakened by the noise of landing. It was then that most of theWinchester and of the Ohio regiment discovered that they were comrades,thrown together again by the chances of war, and there was a mightywelcome and shaking of hands. But it did not interfere with the rapidityof the landing. The Winchester regiment was promptly ordered forwardand, advancing on solid ground, took a little village without firing ashot.
All that day troops came up and Grant's army, after having gone awayfrom Grand Gulf in darkness, was coming back to it in daylight.
"They say that Pemberton at Vicksburg could gather together fiftythousand men and strike us, while we've only twenty thousand here," saidPennington.
"But he isn't going to do it," said Warner. "How do I know? No, I'm nota prophet nor the son of a prophet. There's nothing mysterious aboutit. This man Grant who leads us knows the value of time. He makes up hismind fast and he acts fast. The Confederate commander doesn't do either.So Gran
t is bound to win. Let z equal resolution and y equal speed andwe have z plus y which equals resolution and speed, that is victory."
"I hope it will work out that way," said Dick, "but war isn't altogethermathematics."
"Not altogether, but that beautiful study plays a great part in everycampaign. People are apt to abuse mathematics, when they don't know whatthey're talking about. The science of mathematics is the very basis ofmusic, divine melody, heaven's harmony."
"You needn't tell me," said Pennington, "that a plus b and z minus ylie at the basis of 'Home, Sweet Home' and the 'Star Spangled Banner.'I accept a lot of your tales because you come from an old state likeVermont, but there's a limit, George."
Warner looked at him pityingly.
"Frank," he said, "I'm not arguing with you. I'm telling you. Haven'tyou known me long enough to accept whatever I say as a fact, and toaccept it at once and without question? Not to do so is an insult to meand to the truth. Now say over slowly with me: 'The basis of music ismathematics.'"
They said slowly together:
"The basis of music is mathematics."
"Now I accept your apologies," said Warner loftily.
Pennington laughed.
"You're a queer fellow, George," he said. "When this war is over and Ireceive my general's uniform I'm coming up into the Vermont mountainsand look your people over. Will it be safe?"
"Of course, if you learn to read and write by then, and don't comewearing your buffalo robe. We're strong on education and manners."
"Why, George," said Pennington in the same light tone, "I couldread when I was two years old, and, as for writing, I wrote a lot oftext-books for the Vermont schools before I came to the war."
"Shut up, you two," said Dick. "Don't you know that this is a war andnot a talking match?"
"It's not a war just now, or at least there are a few moments betweenbattles," retorted Warner, "and the best way I can use them is ininstructing our ignorant young friend from Nebraska."
Their conversation was interrupted by Colonel Winchester, who orderedthe regiment to move to a new point. General Grant had decided to attacka little town called Port Gibson, which commanded the various approachesto Grand Gulf. If he could take that he might shut up Bowen and hisforce in Grand Gulf. On the other hand, if he failed he might be shutin himself by Confederate armies gathering from Jackson, Vicksburg, andelsewhere. The region, moreover, was complicated for both armies by themighty Mississippi and the Big Black River, itself a large stream, andthere were deep and often unfordable bayous.
But Grant showed great qualities, and Dick, who was experienced enoughnow to see and know, admired him more than ever. He pushed forward withthe utmost resolution and courage. His vanguard, led by McClernand, andincluding the Winchester regiment, seized solid ground near Port Gibson,but found themselves confronted by a formidable Southern force. Bowen,who commanded in Grand Gulf, was brave and able. Seeing the Union armymarching toward his rear, and knowing that if Grant took it he would besurrounded, both on land and water, by a force outnumbering his nearlythree to one, he marched out at once and took station two miles in frontof Port Gibson.
Dick was by the side of Colonel Winchester as he rode forward. The faintecho of shots from the skirmishers far in front showed that they hadroused up an enemy. Glasses were put in use at once.
"The Confederates are before us," said Colonel Winchester.
"So they are, and we're going to have hard fighting," said a major."Look what a position!"
Dick said nothing, but he was using his glasses, too. He saw before himrough ground, thickly sown with underbrush. There was also a deep ravineor rather marsh choked with vines, bushes, reeds, and trees that like awatery soil. The narrow road divided and went around either end of thelong work, where the two divisions united again on a ridge, on whichBowen had placed his fine troops and artillery.
"I don't see their men yet, except a few skirmishers," said Dick.
"No, but we'll find them in some good place beyond it," replied ColonelWinchester, divining Bowen's plan.
It was night when the army in two divisions, one turning to the rightand the other to the left, began the circuit of the great marshy ravine.Dick noticed that the troops who had struggled so long in mud and waterwere eager. Here, west of the Alleghanies, the men in blue were alwaysexpecting to win.
The sky was sown with stars, casting a filmy light over the marchingcolumns. Dick was with the troops passing to the right, and he observedagain their springy and eager tread.
Nor was the night without a lively note. Skirmishers, eager riflemenprowling among the bushes, fired often at one another, and now and thena Union cannon sent a shell screaming into some thick clump of forest,lest a foe be lurking there for ambush.
The reports of the rifles and cannon kept every one alert and watchful.Early in the night while it was yet clear Dick often saw the flashesfrom the firing, but, as the morning hours approached, heavy mists beganto rise from that region of damp earth and great waters. He shiveredmore than once, and on the advice of Sergeant Whitley wrapped hiscavalry cloak about him.
"Chills and fever," said the sergeant sententiously. "So much water andmarsh it's hard to escape it. The sooner we fight the better."
"Well, that's what General Grant thinks already," said Dick; "so Isuppose he doesn't need chills and fever to drive him on. All the same,Sergeant, I'll wrap up as you say."
All the men in the Winchester regiment were soon doing the same. Themists of the Mississippi, the Big Black and the bayous were raw andcold, although it would be hot later on. But the period of coldness didnot last long. Soon the low sun showed in the east and the warm daylightcame. In the new light they saw the Confederate forces strongly postedon the ridge where the halves of the road rejoined. As the Union columncame into view a cannon boomed and a shell burst in the road so nearthat dirt was thrown upon them as it exploded and one man was wounded.At the same time the column on the left under Osterhaus appeared, havingperformed its semicircle about the marsh, and the whole Union army,weary of body but eager of soul, pressed forward. The Winchesterregiment and the Ohio regiment beside it charged hotly, but werereceived with a fire of great volume and accuracy that swept them fromthe road. Another battery on their far left also raked them with a crossfire, and so terrible was their reception that they were compelled toabandon some of their own cannon and seek shelter.
The Winchester regiment, except the officers, were not mounted in thismarch, as Grant would not wait for their horses, which were on anothertransport. The very fact saved from death many who would have made amore shining target. Dick's own horse was killed at the first fire,and as he leaped clear to escape he went down to his waist in a marsh,another fact which saved his life a second time as the new volleys sweptover his head. The horses of other officers also were killed, and theremainder, finding themselves such conspicuous targets, sprang to theground. The frightened animals, tearing the reins from their hands,raced through the thickets or fell into the marsh.
All the time Dick heard the shells and bullets shrieking and whiningover his head. But, regaining his courage and presence of mind, heslowly pulled himself out of the marsh, taking shelter behind a hugecypress that grew at its very edge. As he dashed the mud out of his eyeshe heard a voice saying:
"Don't push! There's room enough here for the three of us. In fact,there's room enough behind the big trees for all the officers."
It was Warner who was speaking with such grim irony, and Pennington byhis side was hugging the tree. Shells and shot shrieked over their headsand countless bullets hummed about them. The soldiers also had takenshelter behind the trees, and Warner's jest about the officers wasa jest only. Nevertheless the Southern fire was great in volume andaccuracy. Bowen was an able commander with excellent men, and fromhis position that covered the meeting of the roads he swept both Unioncolumns with a continuous hail of death.
"We must get out of this somehow," said Dick. "If we're held here inthese swamps and thickets any longer t
he Johnnies can shoot us down attheir leisure."
"But we won't be held!" exclaimed Pennington. "Look! One of our brigadesis through, and it's charging the enemy on the right!"
It was Hovey who had forced his way through a thicket, supposed to beimpenetrable, and who now, with a full brigade behind him, was rushingupon Bowen's flank. Then, while the Southern defense was diverted tothis new attack, the Winchester and the Ohio regiment attacked in front,shouting with triumph.
Hovey's rush was overpowering. He drove in the Southern flank, takingfour cannon and hundreds of prisoners, but the dauntless Confederatecommander, withdrawing his men in perfect order, retreated to a secondridge, where he took up a stronger position than the first.
Resolute and dangerous, the men in gray turned their faces anew to theenemy and sent back a withering fire that burned away the front ranksof the Union army. Osterhaus, in spite of every effort, was driven back,and the Winchesters and their Ohio friends were compelled to give groundtoo. It seemed that the utmost of human effort and defiance of deathcould not force the narrow passage.
But a new man, a host in himself, came upon the field. Grant, who hadbeen on foot for two days, endeavoring to get his army through thethickets and morasses, heard the booming of the cannon and he knew thatthe vanguards had clashed. He borrowed a cavalry horse and, gallopingtoward the sound of the guns, reached the field at mid-morning. Grantwas not impressive in either figure or manner, but the soldiers hadlearned to believe in him as they always believe in one who leads themto victory.
A tremendous shout greeted his coming and the men, snatching off theirhats and caps, waved them aloft. Grant took no notice but rapidlydisposed his troops for a new and heavier battle. Dick felt the strongand sure hand over them. The Union fire grew in might and rapidity.McPherson arrived with two brigades to help Osterhaus, and thestrengthened division was able to send a brigade across a ravine, whereit passed further around Bowen's flank and assailed him with fury.
Dick felt that their own division under McClernand was also makingprogress. Although many men were falling they pressed slowly forward,and Grant brought up help for them too. For a long time the struggle wascarried on. It was one of the little battles of the war, but its resultswere important and few were fought with more courage and resolution.Bowen, with only eight thousand against twenty thousand, held fastthroughout all the long hot hours of the afternoon. Grant, owing to thenature of the field, was unable to get all his numbers into battle atonce.
But when the twilight began to show Dick believed that victory was athand. They had not yet driven Bowen out, but they were pressing himso close and hard, and Grant was securing so many new positions ofadvantage, that the Southern leader could not make another such fightagainst superior numbers in the morning.
Twilight turned into night and Bowen and his men, who had shown so muchheroism, retreated in the dark, leaving six guns and many prisoners astrophies of the victors.
It was night when the battle ceased. Cannon and rifles flashed at fitfulintervals, warning skirmishers to keep away, but after a while theytoo ceased and the Union army, exhausted by the long march of the nightbefore and the battle of the day, threw itself panting upon the ground.The officers posted the sentinels in triple force, but let the remainderof the men rest.
As Dick lay down in the long grass two or three bullets dropped fromhis clothes and he became conscious, too, that a bullet had grazed hisshoulder. But these trifles did not disturb him. It was so sweet torest! Nothing could be more heavenly than merely to lie there in thelong, soft grass and gaze up at the luminous sky, into which the starsnow stole to twinkle down at him peacefully.
"Don't go to sleep, Dick," said a voice near him. "I admit thetemptation is strong. I feel it myself, but General Grant may have tosend you and me forward to-night to win another battle."
"George, I'm glad to hear your preachy voice over there. Hurt any?"
"No. A million cannon balls brushed my right cheek and another millionbrushed my left cheek, but they didn't touch me. They scared me todeath, but in the last few minutes I've begun to come back to life. In aquarter of an hour I'll be just as much alive as I ever was."
"Do you know anything of Pennington?"
"Yes. The rascal is lying about six feet beyond me, sound asleep. Inspite of all I could do he wouldn't stay awake. I've punched him allover to see if he was wounded, but as he didn't groan at a single punch,he's all right."
"That being the case, I'm going to follow Pennington's example. You maylecture me as much as you please, George, but you'll lecture only thenight, because I'll be far away from here in a land of sweet dreams."
"All right, if you're going to do it, I will too. You'll hear my snorebefore I hear yours."
Both sank in a few minutes into a deep slumber, and when they awoke thenext morning they found that Bowen had abandoned Port Gibson and hadretreated into Grand Gulf again. There was great elation among the ladsand Dick began to feel that the position of the Union army in the farSouth was strengthened immeasurably. He heard that Sherman, who hadstood so staunchly at Shiloh, was on his way to join Grant. Their unitedforces would press the siege of Grand Gulf and would also turn to strikeat any foe who might approach from the rear.
Never since the war began had Dick felt so elated as he did thatmorning. When he saw the short, thick-set figure of Grant riding byhe believed that the Union, in the West at least, had found its man atlast.
The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisis Page 5