by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER X
THE SHARPSHOOTERS OF MILLERSVILLE
The forty-two riflemen of the Home Guard were sharpshooters who hadpractised for many years with the weapon, both as hunters and by firingat a mark. Some of them were past the military age; and the lieutenantin command of the detachment was sixty years old, and he had won hisspurs as the best shot in the town. He was a man of influence, and hisskill had procured him his present position in the company.
Lieutenant Ripley was at the right of the line of sharpshooters. He hadstationed his men in the woods, and ordered them not to fire till hedid so; and they were to load and fire at will after he had given thefirst discharge. When the captain of the Confederate cavalry droppedfrom his horse, it was known by whose shot he had fallen. A couple ofmen were ordered to dismount, and bear him to the side of the roads;and the lieutenant who succeeded to the command ordered a halt.
Captain Gordon and Colonel Halliburn were behind the farmer's house,where they had retired, not to avoid the bullets of the enemy, but toobtain a position where they could see without being seen. The horse ofthe former stood on a knoll, from which his rider could look over thecorner of the low building, and the latter was at his side. Both ofthem saw the captain of the company fall from his horse.
"Ripley fired that shot," said the colonel. "He was never known to misshis aim when he had fair play."
"That was a good beginning, at any rate," added the captain.
"But why don't the next man in the line fire?" mused the commander ofthe Home Guard, uttering his thought.
They could not know then the reason; but they learned afterwards thatthe lieutenant had ordered them not to do so, as he wished to observethe effect of the death of the captain, for he had not moved after hefell. The company seemed to be staggered by the event for the space ofa minute. The men all turned their heads towards the woods; and as noshot followed the first one at once, they might have inferred that thefatality to the commander had been the work of an assassin.
This view was immediately confirmed by the captain's successor; for heordered four troopers to dismount, and go into the woods in search ofthe murderer. But they did not reach the edge of the forest before firewas opened upon them, and every one of them dropped dead or wounded.The rifle was a terribly effective weapon in the hands of thesharpshooters. The company had certainly fallen into an ambush. Thetroopers could do nothing on their horses in the woods, and for themoment they were practically helpless.
The fire continued all along the line of riflemen, one discharge at atime, so that no two men should aim at the same soldier or officer; andall along the detachment every one seemed to bring down his man. Thelieutenant saw the havoc made in his command; but Captain Gordon didnot give the order for his company to advance on the plan he hadarranged.
The battle appeared to be fighting itself without any assistance fromthe summit of the hill, and it was evident that the enemy had noknowledge of any force outside of the forest.
"That lieutenant has just given an order, but I could not make out whathe said," observed the colonel. "He is in a tight place, and you haveset a very ugly trap for that company to fall into, Captain Gordon."
"The assistance of your company, Colonel, has given me a very decidedadvantage," replied the captain.
"And you have made excellent use of it. My men are safe in the woods,and the lieutenant seems to be losing his time."
"You can see what his order meant now, for his men are dismounting.They are going into the woods to clean out the enemy, and that isreally the only thing he can do," replied Captain Gordon. "It will betime for me to put a finger in the pie very soon, for the protection ofyour men, if for nothing else."
"You need not trouble your head about the riflemen, for they all havelegs; and even Ripley, the oldest man among them, can use hiswalking-pins as well as any of them. They will retreat through thewoods, using their rifles as they retire."
Every alternate man of the company was dismounted, giving thebridle-rein of his horse to one mounted. They double-quicked into theforest; but they began to drop, to cling to the trees for support, orto retire from the field before the observers on the hill lost sight ofthem. Still Captain Gordon did not give the word to advance.
"Isn't it time for this company to move forward?" asked the colonel.
"Not quite; it is best to wait a short time, till the cavalrymen get alittle farther into the woods," answered the captain. "Your men arefiring quite rapidly now, and are evidently retiring in good order."
"I am not at all concerned about them. They can keep behind the trees,firing as they retreat. The riflemen have hunted through that forest,which extends five or six miles to the north, and they have known everyacre of it for years. They are quite at home there; and they will notfall into any creek or mud-hole, as the enemy would without a guide."
"They are brave men, and they have done good work this morning. But itis now time for my company to make a move; for I will not leave yourguards to do all the fighting," added Captain Gordon, as he descendedfrom the knoll, followed by his companion.
He had already explained to his two lieutenants in command of theplatoons what they were to do at a signal sounded by the bugler. Thecaptain rode to the top of the hill, though he did not expose himselfto the fire of the enemy, who were still unaware of his presence.Stufton was near the head of the column, and he gave him the order tosound the advance. He did it with full lungs. Lieutenant Lyon,commanding the second platoon, gave the order to march, and his menstarted at a trot, which was immediately changed to a gallop. Thefarmer's fence had been removed by order of the captain when he hadarranged his plan for the action; and Deck, on the right flank of hiscommand, took to the field, where they had plenty of space, thoughrecent rains had turned the soil into soft mud. But the speed was keptup in spite of this impediment till the head of the platoon reached theleft, or foot, of the Confederate company.
In response to the bugle signal, Lieutenant Belthorpe advanced upon thehead of the enemy's column, deploying to the side of the road, andcontinuing till they filled up the space to the foot of Deck's force.The enemy had discharged their carbines, or other pieces, at random,and apparently without orders; but they inflicted no injury upon theflying horsemen. Deck was the first to give the order to charge; but hehad been prohibited by the captain, to whom some one had reported theyoung lieutenant's custom of leading his men into action, from placinghimself in front of his men when he went in upon a charge, unless in acase of actual emergency.
Deck promised to obey this order, and he did so in the advance of hisplatoon; and when he ordered the charge upon the left of the enemy'scolumn, he was on its right. Every man of the Confederates wasencumbered with an extra horse, though as they confronted the Unioncavalrymen he rid himself of his charge; and thus turned loose, theanimals were soon wandering wherever they found an opening. Deck hadvery nearly his full complement of men, and so had Tom Belthorpe; forthe soldiers of the Home Guard had been detailed to guard thebaggage-wagons, and picket the rear of the column. One-half of theConfederates had been sent into the woods, and by this time they hadadvanced a considerable distance in pursuit of the riflemen.
The enemy were at present doubly outnumbered; and though they realizedthe fact, they fought as though they had been contending man for man.Indeed, they contended desperately against the odds before them, anddeserved victory for their steady valor. But with them then it was a"lost cause," and through no fault of their own. Before the Unioncolumn had reached the position assigned to them, the lieutenant incommand had sent his bugler into the forest to sound the retreat forthe portion of the company pursuing the riflemen.
As he returned, the officer shouted at him to give the signal for thecharge, and his men promptly responded to it. The fighting then becamefurious on both sides. The second lieutenant in front of Deck's men wasa noble-looking young man, who fought like a lion at bay, and defendedhimself with great skill from the two Union troopers that assailed himin front; but it was an uneq
ual conflict, and presently he was woundedin the sword-arm, so that he could no longer use his sabre with thathand, and grasped it with his left. He struck with it several times;but he could not handle his weapon as he had before, and he was sooncut near the shoulder of his left arm, receiving a wound which entirelydisabled him.
Deck, filled with admiration for the brave young officer, ordered oneof the men to lead the horse of the wounded soldier out of the crowd,which he did, conducting him to the side of the Union lieutenant. Itwas soon reported along the line that the first lieutenant of theConfederates had been disabled, and had retired from the field. By thistime the crack of the rifles was again heard in the forest, though at aconsiderable distance from the road. The captain interpreted thesesounds as the retreat of the force of the enemy sent into the woods,the riflemen shooting them down as they retired.
Before this force, more than decimated by the sharpshooters, couldreach the road, however they hurried, the other half of the company hadbeen driven to the verge of the forest; but they realized that theywere thoroughly beaten, and that any further resistance meant nothingbut slaughter. The orderly sergeant of the company, who succeeded tothe command, shouted to Lieutenant Belthorpe that he was ready tosurrender. Tom repeated the words to the captain, and Stufton wasordered to give the proper signal to bring the attack to an end.
"You have fought like a hero, sir, and I am sorry for you; but you aremy prisoner," said Deck to the wounded lieutenant when he was conductedto his side.
"I surrender," replied the prisoner faintly; and it was evident to Deckthat he was in great pain from the wound in his shoulder.
"THEY LAID HIM ON THE GRASS JUST AS THE RECALL WASSOUNDED." _Page 141._]
The Union lieutenant called a man to assist him in dismounting theofficer. They laid him on the grass just as the recall was sounded, andproceeded to remove his coat. The blood was flowing freely from both ofhis wounds, and he was quite faint. But Deck saw at once that the woundwas not fatal; and he sent word to the Confederate surgeon, who wasattending to the men that were brought into the field in the rear ofthe column, that he was needed for the officer of his command.
In the meantime, Deck tied up the worst wound of the prisoner with hishandkerchief, and did what he could to stop the flow of blood. He usedsome of the rags with which his mother had supplied him; but thesurgeon promptly appeared.
"I am sorry to see you wounded, Lieutenant Lawrence," said the doctor,as he observed the pale face of the young officer; and then gave him amedicine glass full of a dark fluid, which was probably brandy.
"It was a hard fight, Doctor," replied the sufferer.
"But Lieutenant Lawrence has fought like the bravest of the brave, andI am sorry for his misfortune," added Deck.
"Who may you be, sir? I see that you wear the uniform of the blue,"said the surgeon, looking him in the face.
"He is a Yankee officer; but he has been kind to me, and had me broughtout of the fight when I was utterly disabled," said the woundedofficer, apparently revived by the stimulant he had taken. "I amgrateful to him for his kindness."
"I am Lieutenant Lyon of the Riverlawn Cavalry," replied Deck. "Thisgentleman's bravery and skill excited my admiration; and I have donethe little I could for him."
"I thank you, Lieutenant Lyon, for what you have done for my friend;and if you are an enemy, you are a noble one, and I honor you for yourChristianity on the battle-field," replied the surgeon, as he took thehand of Deck and pressed it warmly. "I reckon all the Yankee officersare not like you, Lieutenant."
"Those in my squadron are," answered Deck.
"Your name is Lyon. I have heard of the Riverlawn Cavalry in EdmonsonCounty, where I have an uncle; and I was thinking you were the major incommand of it," added the surgeon, still at work on his patient.
"That is my father," replied the lieutenant.
Life Knox came to Deck at this moment, to announce that another forceof cavalry was approaching from the direction of Jamestown, though hehad not been able to make out what it was, whether friend or foe.