by John McElroy
CHAPTER XVIII. AN ARTILLERY DUEL
AND A "DEMONSTRATION" ON THE ENEMY'S POSITION.
"RUSSELL, that ain't going to heal without a A scar," Alf Russellconsoled himself, as he studied his hurt with a little round pocketlooking-glass, a screen of bushes concealing him from his unappreciativecomrades. "It's more than Monty Scruggs nor Harry Joslyn nor SandyBaker'll have to show for the fight. It's even more than Gid Mackallhas, even though he is knocked out. I ought to be sent to the hospital,too. It'll be something to write home to father and mother, and they'llput it in the paper and the folks'll talk about it. Gracious, there's abugle blowing again. Wonder what that means?"
"That's the Headquarters bugle," said Si, pricking up his ears. "That's'Attention.' Git your traps together, boys. 'Assembly' 'll come next."
"Good gracious!" gasped Alf Russell, coming out from behind the bushes,"they don't expect us to do any more fighting today, do they?"
"Very likely," said Shorty, helping Pete Skidmore on with hisblanket-roll. "The job ain't done till it is done, and there's lots o'rebels over there yit who need lickin'. Now's the best time to finishit. This ain't nothin' to Stone River and Chickamaugy. Got your canteenfull, Pete? Better fill it before we start. Take mine, too. Don't go anyfurther'n that first spring there, for I don't want to take no chanceson losin' you again."
The cannonading in the distance grew fiercer, and regiments could beseen rushing up at the doublequick. Long, shrill rebel yells came fromthe hilltops, and were answered by volleys and deep-toned cheers.
Another bugle-call rang out from Brigade Headquarters.
"Fall in, Co. Q," sharply commanded the Orderly-Sergeant.
With a shiver of apprehension, with a nervous memory of the bitter hoursjust past, with the sight before their eyes of the scarcely-cold dead,the remainder of the company fell in with sadly-shrunken ranks.
"Orderly, we need some more cartridges," suggested Shorty.
"I've been thinking of that," replied the Orderly, "and wondering whereto go for them."
"I saw some boxes of Enfields up there toward the battery," said Si."The rebels left 'em. They'll fit our guns, and them English cartridgesis just as good as ours."
"Pike over and get them, quick, before the other fellows drop on to'em," said the Orderly.
"Gracious! going to shoot the rebels with their own bullets," remarkedMonty, who had nearly recovered, and came up pluckily to take his placein the ranks. "Isn't that great medicine! How I should like to pop oneinto that fellow that belted me with that bowlder."
"Hello, Monty," called Shorty jovially to drive out the sad thoughts."Got that kink out o' your backbone? Bully boy. You've got the rightkind of nerve. You'll be a man before your mother yet."
"Yes, and I'm here, too, and don't you forget it," said Alf Russell, notto be outdone by Monty nor unnoticed. "By rights, I ought to be in thehospital."
"By rights, I ought to be a Jigadier-Brindle," retorted Shorty, "but Inever could git Abe Lincoln to take that view of it. Here, fill up yourcartridgebox. You'll need lots of 'em, if you're only goin' to shoot tocrease your rebels, as that feller did you."
It was not brilliant pleasantry, but it served. It set them to thinkingof something else. They hastily filled their cartridge-boxes, adjustedtheir blankets, and when the bugle sounded forward they started withsomething of their original nerve.
The regiment moved off at the head of the brigade, and after a march ofa mile or so came out upon a hill from which they could see one of ourbatteries having an unequal fight with several of the rebel batteriesin a fort far to its front. Our cannoneers were standing up bravelyto their work, but the rebel shells were bursting about them in a wildstorm of crashing, deafening explosions, and hurtling, shrieking massesof iron. The sharp crack of their own rifles was at times drowned by theear-splitting din of the bursting shells.
"Goodness!" murmured Monty Scruggs, with colorless lips, as the regimentcame into line and moved forward to the battery's line of caissons atthe bottom of the hill. "I'm so glad I didn't enlist in the artillery. Idon't see how anybody up there can live a minute."
"Yes, it looks like as if those artillery boys are earnin' their $13 amonth about every second of their lives," remarked Shorty. "There oughtto be some other batteries loafin' around somewhere that could join in."
The boys leaned on their muskets and watched the awful spectacle withdazed eyes. It seemed far more terrible even than the ordeal throughwhich they had just been.
The battery was one of the oldest and best in the army, and its "firediscipline" was superb.
The Captain stood on a little elevation to the rear and somewhat apart,intently studying the rebel line through his field-glasses. After afew words of direction as to the pointing of the guns, and the command,"Begin firing," he had given no orders, scarcely spoken. He could nothave been heard in that terrible turmoil. He had simply brought histerrible engine of destruction--the engine upon which he and his men hadlavished years of laborious drilling and training--into position, andset it going.
What the result would be fate alone would determine. That was a matterthat neither he nor his men regarded. If it destroyed or crippled itsopponents it was simply doing the work for which it had been created.If its opponents destroyed it, that was a contingency to be accepted. Itwas there to endure that fate if so ordered.
Behind the wings of the battery stood the Lieutenants, leaning on theirsabers, and gazing with fixed, unmoving eyes on the thunderous wrack andruin.
They said nothing. There was no reason for saying anything. Everythingwas working systematically and correctly. Every man was doing his best,and in the best way. Nobody needed reminder, reprimand, direction orencouragement.
Similarly, the Sergeants stood behind their sections, except that oneafter another they stepped forward to the guns to take the places ofmen who had fallen and could not be replaced. At the guns the men wereworking with the swiftness of light flashes, and the unerring certaintyof machines. To the watchers at the base of the slope they seemed toweave back and forth like some gigantic, demoniac loom, as they sprangat their guns, loaded them, "broke away" as they fired, leaped backagain, caught the gun in its recoil, hurled it forward, again reloaded,"broke away" and fired, all quicker than thought. A shell took off asponger's head, but the sponge-staff was caught by another before itfell, and the gun fired again without a pause. A shrapnel swept awayevery man about one gun. The Lieutenant looked inquiringly at theSergeant, and in an instant another squad seemed to spring up from theground to continue the firing without missing a note in the battery'srhythm.
The groups about each gun thinned out, as the shrieking fragments ofshell mowed down man after man, but the rapidity of the fire did notslacken in the least. One of the Lieutenants turned and motioned withhis saber to the riders seated on their horses in the line of limbersunder the cover of the slope. One rider sprang from each team and ran upto take the place of men who had fallen.
The next minute the Lieutenant turned and motioned again, and anotherrider sprang from each team and ran up the hill. But one man was nowleft to manage the six horses attached to each limber. He soon left,too, in obedience to the Lieutenant's signal, and a faint, bleeding mancame back and climbed into his place.
A shrapnel shell burst almost under the left gun and lifted it up in theair. When the smoke opened a little not a man could be seen about thecannon. A yell of exultation floated over from the rebel line.
The Lieutenant unbuckled his saber, dropped it to the ground, and ranforward to the cannon. Two or three men rose slowly from the ground,upon which they had been prostrated, and joined the Lieutenant inrunning the gun back to its place, and reloading it.
HOORAY FOR THE OLD BATTERY. 231]
"Hooray for the old battery! Bully boys! Made o' right stuff," shoutedShorty enthusiastically. "Never ketch me saying nothin' agin' theartillery agin. Men who act like that when they're standin' right in themiddle o' hell with the lid off are 18karat fine."
"Capt
ain," suggested Si, who was fidgeting under the excitement of ascene in which he was taking no part, "wouldn't it be well for someof us to go up there and help the battery boys out? I could sponge andram."
"No," answered the Captain; "help has been sent for for them, and thereit comes."
He pointed back over the hill to where two batteries were coming fromdifferent directions on a dead run. It was a magnificent sight. Onebattery was following the road, and the other cutting across the openspace in a hot race to get ahead and be in action first.
The Captains were galloping ahead to point out the way. The Sergeantswere alongside, seconding the whips of the drivers with strokes of theflats of their sabers on the animals' hanches. The six horses to eachgun were galloping like mad, snatching the heavy piece over gullies,bumps, logs, and rocks as if it were a straw. The gunners had abandonedtheir usual calm pose with folded arms on the limber chests, and weremaintaining their seats only by a desperate clutch on the side-irons.
The boys turned even from the storm in front to watch the thrillingspectacle.
The two Captains were fairly abreast as they led their batteries up thelong slope, crushing the brush, sending sticks and stones flying fromthe heavy, flying wheels. Both reached the crest at the same time, andthe teams, wheeling around at a gallop, flung the muzzles of the cannontoward the enemy. Without waiting for them to stop the nimble cannoneerssprang to ground, unlimbered the guns, rolled them into position, sentloads down their black throats, and before it was fairly realized thatthey had reached the crest hurled a storm of shells across the valley atthe rebel batteries.
"Hooray! Hooray! They're gittin' some o' their own medicine now,"yelled the excited regiment. "Sock it to 'em. How do you like that, youill-begotten imps of rebels?"
The rebel cannoneers seemed to lose heart at once under the storm offire that beat upon them. The volume of their fire diminished at once,and then became fitful and irregular. Two of their limbers were blown upin succession, with thunderous noise, and this further discouraged them.
Obeying a common impulse, the 200th Ind., regardless of the droppingshells, had left its position, and pressed forward toward the crest,where it could see what was going on.
The Colonel permitted this, for he anticipated that a charge on therebel works would follow the beating down of the artillery fire, and hewanted his regiment to be where it would get a good start in the race tocapture a rebel battery. He simply cautioned the Captains to keeptheir men in hand and ready. As Capt. McGillicuddy called Co. Q closertogether, it occurred to Shorty that in the interest he had taken in theartillery duel he had not looked after Pete Skidmore for some time, andhe began casting his eyes around for that youth. He was nowhere to beseen, and, of course, no one knew anything about him.
"Why don't you get a rope. Shorty, and tie the blamed kid to you, andnot be pestering yourself and everybody else about him all the time?"asked the Orderly-Sergeant irritably, for he was deeply intent upon theprospective charge, and did not want to be bothered. "He's more worrythan he's worth."
"Shut up!" roared Shorty. "If you wasn't Orderly-Sergeant I'd punch yourhead. I won't have nobody sayin' that about little Pete. He's the bestboy that ever lived. If I could only git hold of him I'd shake theplaguey life out o' him. Drat him!"
Shorty anxiously scanned the field in every direction, but without hiseyes being gladdened by the sight of the boy.
The wounded being carried back from the batteries impressed him sadlywith the thought that Pete might have been struck by a piece of shell.
"Him and Sandy Baker are both gone," said the Orderly, looking over thecompany. "I'll buck-and-gag both of 'em when I catch 'em, to learn 'emto stay in ranks."
"Indeed you won't," said Shorty, under his breath.
The rebel fire had completely died down, and our own ceased, to allowthe guns to cool for a few minutes, in preparation for an energeticreopening when the anticipated charge should be ordered.
To be in readiness for this, the Colonel drew the regiment forwardthrough the batteries, to lie down on the slope in front, that he mighthave a start on the other Colonels. As they passed through the batteriesa little imp, about the size of Pete Skidmore, but with face as blackas charcoal, pulled off the leather bag in which cartridges are carriedfrom the limber to the gun, and handed it to one of the cannoneers, whosaid:
"Well, good-by, if you must be going. You done well. You ought to belongto the artillery. You're too good for a dough-boy. I'm going to ask theCaptain to have you detailed to us."
A similar scene was taking place at the next gun, with a littleblackamoor about the size of Sandy Baker.
The boys picked up their guns and belts from the ground, and fell inwith Co. Q.
"Hello, Corporal," said Pete, with a capacious grin rifting the powdergrime on his face. "We've just bin having lots o' fun."
"Pete, you aggravatin' little brat," said Shorty, giving him a cuffthat started the boy's tears to making little white streaks through theblack, "where in the world have you bin, and what've you bin doin'?"
"Why," whimpered Pete, "me and Sandy crept forward to a rock where wethought we could see better, and then we thought we could see betterfrom another, and we kept a-goin' until we got clear up to wherethe limbers was, afore we knowed it. Just then a couple o' thempowder-monkeys, as you call 'em, come runnin' back for cartridges, butthey was both hit, and was all bloody, and both of 'em fell down andcouldn't go no further, when they got the cartridges, though they wantedto. Me and Sandy thought it was too bad that the men up there at theguns shouldn't have no cartridges, when they was fighting so hard, sowe picked up the boys' bags and run up to the cannon with 'em. The menthere was so glad to git 'em, and told us to lay down our guns and runback for some more. They kept us goin' till the rebels was knocked out,and we thought we was doin' right and helpin', and they told us we was,and now you slap me. Boo-hoo-hoo!"
"Don't cry, Pete. I done wrong," said Shorty, melting instantly, andputting his arm around the boy. "You done right, and you're a brave,good little boy. Only you must not go away from the company withoutlettin' me know."
"Good God," groaned the Colonel, as he halted the regiment down theslope, and studied the opposite side with his glass. "There's anotherabatis, and it looks worse than the one in which we have just left halfthe regiment. But we'll go through if there's only one man left to carrythe flag over the works. I don't suppose that we are any better thanthose who have already died, or got any better right to live."
"This is the dumbedest country for cuttin' down trees the wrong way,"Si sadly remarked, as he surveyed the abatis. "It's meaner'n midnightmurder. I'd like to git hold o' the pizen whelp what invented it."
"The devil invented abatis, just after he invented hell, and as animprovement on it, and just before he invented secession," Shortyjudged hotly. "When we git through them abatis there I'm goin' to killeverything I find, just to learn 'em to stop sich heathenish work. It'ssneakin' murder, not war."
"When we get through," murmured Alf Russell dolefully. "How many of uswill ever get through?"
"Who'll be the Jim Humphreys and Gid Mackals this time?" said MontyScruggs, looking at the tangled mass of tree-tops.
"Can you see any path through this abatis, Sergeant?" nervously askedHarry Joslyn.
"No, Harry," said Si, kindly and encouragingly. "But we'll find some wayto git through. There's probably a path that we kin strike. Stay closeby me, and we'll try our best."
"Well, I for one am goin' through, and I'm goin' to take Pete andSandy with me," said Shorty, in a loud, confident tone, to brace up theothers. "I've always gone through every one o' them things I've struckyit, and this ain't no worse'n the others. But we ought to jump 'em atonce, while they're shiverin' over the shelling' we give 'em. They mustbe shakin' up there yit like a dog on a January mornin'. Why don't westart, I wonder?"
The batteries behind them began throwing shells slowly and deliberately,as if testing their range, before beginning a general cannonade.All along the
crest, to their right and to their left, could be seenregiments moving up and going into line of battle.
"It's goin' to be a big smash this time, sure," said Si. "And the 200thInjianny's got a front seat at the performance. We'll show them how todo it, and we're just the ones that kin. Brace up, boys. The eyes of thewhole army's on us. They expect big things from us."
"Here she goes, I guess," he continued, as a bugle sounded atheadquarters. "Everybody git ready to jump at the word, and not stopgoin' till we're inside the works."
The lines stiffened, every one drew a long breath, gripped his gun, andbraced himself for the fiery ordeal. There was an anxious wait, and thenthe Adjutant came walking quietly down the line, with his horse's bridleover his arm.
"It seems," he explained to Capt. McGillicuddy, loud enough for thecompany to hear, "that we are not to make an assault, after all. There'senough rebels over there in the works to eat us up without salt. We areordered to only make a demonstration, and hold them, while the rest workdown on their flanks toward Calhoun, which is six miles below, and getin their rear. You can let your men rest in place till further orders."
"Take the company Orderly," said the Captain, walking off with theAdjutant.
"'Tention! Stack arms; Place rest!" commanded the Orderly.
The revulsion of feeling among the keenly-wrought-up men was almostpainful.
"Demonstration be blamed," said Si, sinking upon a convenient rock. "Ialways did hate foolin'. Gracious, how tired I am."
"Only a demonstration--only powow, noise, show and bluff," sneeredShorty, flinging his gun against the stack. "Why didn't they tell usthis an hour ago, and save me all this wear and tear that's makin' meold before my time? When I git ready for a fight I want it to come off,without any postponement on account of weather. Come, Pete, go wash yourface and hands, and then we'll spread our blankets and lay down. I'mtireder'n a mule after crossin' Rocky Face Ridge. I don't want to takeanother step, nor even think, till I git a good sleep."
"We don't have to go over that brush, then?" said Alf Russell, with anexpression of deep relief. "I'm so glad. Great Jerusalem, how my woundbegins to ache again. You fellows oughtn't to laugh at my wound. Youdon't know how it hurts to have all those delicate nerves torn up."
So it was with every one. The moment the excitement of the impendingfight passed away, every one was sinking with fatigue, and all his othertroubles came back. Monty Scruggs suddenly remembered how badly he hadbeen hurt, and started to drag himself off in search of the Surgeon,while Harry Joslyn and Sandy Baker, chumming together for the firsttime, snuggled together in their blankets, and sought that relief fromthe excitement and fatigues of the day which kindly Nature never refusesto healthy young bodies.