CHAPTER XIV. SEEKING BRAGG
They took Dick to the house of his relatives, the Careys, in Danville,and in a few days he learned the sequel of that sudden and terriblestorm of death at Perryville. Buell had gathered all his forces inthe night, and in the morning had intended to attack again, but theConfederate army was gone, carrying with it vast stores of supplies thatit had gathered on the way.
The rains, too, had come. They had begun the morning after the battle,and they poured for days. In the southeast, among the mountains towardwhich Bragg had turned the head of his army, the roads were quagmires.Nevertheless he had toiled on and was passing through Cumberland Gap.Buell had gone in the other direction toward the southwest, and thencame the news that he was relieved of his command, and that Rosecranswould take his place.
Dick felt the call of the trumpet. He knew that his comrades were nowdown there in Tennessee with the army under Rosecrans, and he felt thathe must join them. His mother begged him to stay. He had done enough forhis country. He had fought in great battles, and he had narrowly escapeda mortal wound. He should come home, and stay safely at Pendleton untilthe war was over.
But Dick, though grieving with her, felt that he must go. He would staywith the army until the end, and he departed for Lexington, where hetook the train for Louisville. Thence he went southward directly byrail to Bowling Green, where the Northern army was encamped, withlines stretching as far south as Nashville, and where he received theheartiest of greetings from his comrades.
"I knew you'd come," said Warner. "Perhaps a man with a mother likeyours ought to stay at home, and again he ought to come. So there youare, and here you are!"
Dick was familiar with the country about Bowling Green. It was a partof the state in which he had relatives, and he had visited it more thanonce. He also saw the camps left by Buckner's men nearly a year ago,when they were marching southward to be taken by Grant at Donelson.Since he had come back to this region it seemed to him that they werealways fighting their battles over again. Grant and Rosecrans had foughta terrible but victorious battle at Corinth in Mississippi, and nowRosecrans had come north while Grant remained in the further south. Hewas sorry it was not Grant who commanded on that line. He would havebeen glad to be under his command again, to feel that strong and surehand on the reins once more.
Dick stayed a while in Bowling Green, and he saw all his relatives inthe little city. They were mostly on the other side, but they could notresist an ingenuous youth like Dick, and he passed some pleasant hourswith them. For his sake they also made Warner and Pennington welcome,but they freely predicted a great disaster for the North. Bragg wouldcome out of East Tennessee with his veterans, and they would giveRosecrans the defeat that he deserved. The boys held good naturedarguments with them on this point, but all finally agreed to leave it tothe decision of the war itself.
The great dryness had now passed so completely that it seemed impossiblesuch a thing ever could have been. The rains had been heavy and almostcontinuous, and the earth soaked in water. But despite chill winds andchill rains rumors of Southern activity came to them, and in thelast month of the year Rosecrans gathered his forces at Nashville inTennessee.
Dick and his comrades enjoyed a few bright days here. The city wascrowded with an army and those who supply it and live by it, and it wasa center of vivid activity. Dick had letters from his mother and healso heard in a roundabout way that Colonel Kenton had gone through thebattle of Perryville uninjured and was now with Bragg at Chattanooga.
But the boys soon heard that despite the winter there was great activityin the Southern camp. Undismayed by their loss of Kentucky, the Southerngenerals meant to fight Rosecrans in Tennessee. The Confederacy hadnot been cheered by Lee's withdrawal at Antietam and Bragg's retreat atPerryville, and meant to strike a heavy blow for new prestige. The wholeConfederate army, they soon heard, had moved forward to Murfreesborough,where it was waiting, while Forrest and Morgan, the famous cavalryleaders, were off on great raids.
It was this absence of Forrest and Morgan with the best of the cavalrythat put it into the mind of Rosecrans to attack at once. The thousandsof lads in the army who were celebrating Christmas received that nightthe news that they were to march in the morning.
"I've fought three great battles this year," said Warner, "and I don'tthink they ought to ask any more of me."
"Be comforted," said Dick. "We start to-morrow, the 26th, which leavesfive days of the year, and I don't think we can arrange a battle in thattime. You'll not have to whip Bragg before the New Year, George."
"Well, I'm glad of it. You can have too many battles in one year. Ididn't get rest enough after my wound at the Second Manassas before Ihad to go in and save our army at Antietam, and then it was but a littletime before we fought at Perryville. That wasn't as big a battle as someof the others, but Dick, for those mad three hours it seemed that allthe demons of death were turned loose."
"It certainly looked like it, George, you stiff old Vermonter, and Idon't forget that you came to save me."
"Shut up about that, or I'll hit you over the head with the butt of mypistol. I merely paid back, though I only paid about half of what Iwas owing to you. The chance luckily came sooner than I had hoped. But,Dick, what a morning to follow Christmas."
A chilly rain was pouring down. A cold fog was rising from theCumberland, wrapping the town in mists. It was certainly a dreary timein which to march to battle, and the young soldiers rising in the gloomof the dawn and starting amid such weather were depressed.
"Pennington," said Warner, "will you help me in a request to ourKentucky friend to join us in three cheers for the Sunny South, the edgeof which he has the good fortune to inhabit? I haven't seen the real sunfor about a month, and I suppose that's why they call it sunny, and I'minformed that this big river, the Cumberland, often freezes over, whichI suppose is the reason why they call it Southern. I hear, too, thatpeople often freeze to death in North Georgia, which is further souththan this. After this bit of business is over I'm going to forbid wintercampaigns in the south."
"It does get mighty cold," said Dick. "You see we're not really asouthern people. We just lie south of the northern states and inKentucky, at least, we have a lot of cold weather. Why, I've seen ittwenty-three degrees below zero in the southern part of the state, andit certainly can get cold in Tennessee, too."
"I believe I'd rather have it than this awful rain," said Pennington. "Idon't seem to get used to these cold soakings."
"Good-bye, Nashville," said Dick, turning about. "I don't know whenwe will have to come back, and if we do I don't know what will havehappened before then. Good-bye, Nashville. I regret your roofs and yoursolid walls, and your dry tents and floors."
"But we're going forth to fight. Don't forget that, Dick. Remember howin Virginia we pined for battle, and the use of our superior numbers.Anyhow Rosecrans is going out to look for the enemy, but all the same,and between you and me, Dick, I wish it was Grant who was leading us. Isaw a copy of the New York Times a while back, and some lines in it arehaunting me. Here they are:
"Back from the trebly crimsoned field Terrible woods are thunder-tost: Full of the wrath that will not yield, Full of revenge for battles lost: Hark to their echo as it crost The capital making faces wan: End this murderous holocaust; Abraham Lincoln give us a man."
"Sounds good," said Dick, "and, George, you and Frank and I know thatwhat we want is a man. We've lost big battles, because we didn't have abig man, who could see at once and think like lightning, to lead us. Butwe'll get him sooner or later! We'll get him. Did any other troops everbear up like ours under defeats and drawn battles? Listen to 'em now!"
Slow and deep and sung by many thousand men rose the rolling chorus:
"The army is gathering from near and from far; The trumpet is sounding the call for the war; Old Rosey's our leader, he's gallant and strong; We'll gird on our armor and be marching along."
"Now," cried Warner
, "all together." And the thundering chorus rose:
"Marching, we are marching along, Gird on the armor and be marching along; Old Rosey's our leader, he's gallant and strong; For God and our country we are marching along."
As the mighty chorus, sung by fifty thousand men, rose and throbbedthrough the cold and rain, Dick felt his own heart throbbing in unison.Rosecrans might or might not be a great general, but he certainlywas not permitting the enemy to rest easy in winter quarters atMurfreesborough. Dick had no doubt that they were about to meet the foeof Perryville face to face again.
The enemies were largely the same as those of other battles in the west.The Northern army advanced in three divisions toward Murfreesborough.McCook, whose division contained the Winchester regiment, was in thecenter, General Thomas led the right wing on the Franklin road, andGeneral Crittenden led the left wing. Bragg who was before them hadnearly the same generals as at Shiloh, Hardee, Breckinridge, and theothers.
Dick knew that the advance of the Northern army would be seen at once.This was the country of the enemy. The forces of the Union held onlythe ground on which they were camped. Thousands of hostile eyes werewatching Rosecrans, and, even if Bragg himself were lax, any movementby the army from Nashville would be reported at once to the army inMurfreesborough. But they had a vigilant foe, they knew, and theyexpected to encounter his pickets soon.
"They're probably watching us now through the fog and rain," saidColonel Winchester to Dick as they left the last house of Nashvillebehind. "They know every inch of these hills and valleys."
It was not a great distance to Murfreesborough, but they found themarching slow. The feet of the horses sank deep in the mud and thecannon and wagons were almost mired. But despite mud and rain and cold,the army pressed bravely on. They were the same lads and their like whohad marched forward so hopefully to Donelson and Shiloh. Through therain and the soughing of wheels in the mud rolled their battle songs,sung with all the spirit and fire of youth.
Colonel Winchester and all the officers helped with the cannon andwagons and soon they were covered with mud. The Winchester regimentwas in the lead, and Sergeant Whitley suddenly pointing with a thickforefinger, said:
"There are the Johnnies! Their pickets are waiting for us!"
Dick saw through the mist and rain a considerable body of men down theroad, most of them on horseback. He knew at once that they were Southernpickets, and the eager lads around him, seeing them, knew it, too.Not waiting for command they set up a shout and charged down the road.Rifles instantly flashed through the rain and a sharp fire met them. Menfell, but others pressed on with all the more zeal, seeing just beyondthe Southern pickets the roofs of a little town. Cannon shot alsowhizzed among them, indicating that the Southern pickets were in strongforce.
But the Northern troops, full of vigor and zeal, swept back the picketsand charged directly upon a larger force in the town beyond. A shortand fierce battle for the possession of the village ensued, but this wasonly a Southern outpost, and it was not strong enough to withstand therush of the Ohio men and Winchester's regiment. Fighting at every stepthey retreated through the village and into the forest beyond, leavingone of their cannon in the hands of the Union troops.
"An omen of victory," exclaimed Dick, when he saw the captured cannon.
"Careful, Dick! Careful!" said Warner. "Remember that you're not strongon omens. You're always seeing sure signs of success just before we gointo a big battle."
"If Dick sees visions, and they're visions of the right kind, then he'sright," said Pennington. "I'd a good deal rather go into battle withDick by my side singing a song of victory, than croaking of defeat."
"That's good as a general proposition," said Warner, "but I was merelycautioning him not to be too enthusiastic. What kind of a country, Dick,is this into which we are going?"
"Hilly, lots of forests, particularly of cedar, and brooks, creeks andrivers. Murfreesborough itself is right on Lytle's Creek. Bragg willmeet us at the line of Stone River."
"Maybe they'll retreat and go eastward to Chattanooga," said Pennington.
"I think we'd better dismiss that 'maybe,'" said Dick. "You haven'theard of the rebels running away from battles, have you?"
"What I've generally seen, in the beginning at least," said Warner, "isthe rebels running toward us, jumping out of the woods and yelling likeIndians. I have seldom found it a pleasant sight. I'm glad, too, Dick,that Stonewall Jackson isn't here. Do you see that big cedar forest overthere on the hillside? Suppose he should come rushing out of it withtwenty or twenty-five thousand men."
"Stop," said Pennington. "You give me the shivers, talking aboutStonewall Jackson swooping down on us with an army corps, when happilyhe's four or five hundred miles away. I'm seeing enough unfriendlyfaces as it is. Look how the people in this village are glaring at us.Fellows, I've decided after due consideration that they don't love ushere in Tennessee. If you were to ask me I'd say that blue was not theirfavorite color."
"At any rate we don't stay long. Good-bye, friends, good-bye," saidWarner, waving his hand toward two or three men who stood in the door ofan old blacksmith shop.
"You laugh, young feller," said a gnarled and knotted old man pasteighty, "an' mebbe it's as well for you to laugh while you have the timeto do it in. Mebbe you'll never come back from Stone River, an' ifyou do, an' if you win everywhere, remember that we, too, will yet wineverywhere."
"What do you mean by that?"
"All the Yankees, whether they win or not, will have to go back north,except them that are dead, an' we'll be here right on top of the lan',livin' on it, an' runnin' it, same as we've always done."
"I hadn't thought of that," said Warner soberly.
"There's a power of things the young don't think of," said the ancientman. "Mebbe the South can be whipped, but she can't be moved. She'llalways be here. People hev made a war. I don't know who started it. Ireckon there's been some powerful mean an' hot talk on both sides. Iknowed great men that seed this very thing comin' long ago an' triedto stop it. I went over in Kentucky more than once an' heard Henry Clayspeak. I don't believe there was ever another such a talker as he was.He had sense an' knowledge as well as voice. He done his best to smoothover this quarrel between North and South that others was eggin' on allthe time, but he couldn't, and I reckon when Henry Clay, the greatestman God ever made, failed, it wasn't worth while for anybody elseto try. Ride on, young fellers, an' get yourselves killed. You ain'ttwenty, an' I'm over eighty, but I guess I'll be lookin' at the greentrees when you're under the ground. Ride on in the rain an' the cold,an' I'll go inside the shop an' warm myself by the forge fire."
The three boys rode on in sober silence. The words of the ancientphilosopher were soaking in with the rain.
"Suppose we don't come back from Stone River," said Pennington.
"We take our chances, of course," said Dick.
"And suppose what he said about the South should prove true," saidWarner, thoughtfully. "One part of it, at least, is bound to come true.That phrase of his sticks in my mind: 'Mebbe the South can be whipped,but she can't be moved.' The Southern states, as he says, will be herejust the same after the war is over, no matter who wins."
But such thoughts as these could not endure long in minds so young. Theypassed through the village and soon were in the forests of red cedar.The rain ceased, but in its place came a thick and heavy fog. The mudgrew deeper than ever. Progress became very slow. It was difficultin the great foggy veil for the regiments to keep in touch with oneanother, and occasional shots in front warned them that the enemy wasactive and watchful. The division barely crept along.
Dick and his comrades were mounted again, and they kept close to ColonelWinchester, who, however, had few orders to send. The command of thecorps rested with General McCook, and it behooved him as any privatecould see, to exercise the utmost caution. They were strangers in theland and the Confederates were not.
Dick had thought that morning that they would get into touch with heav
yforces of the enemy before night, but the fog and the mud rendered theiradvance so slow that at sunset they went into camp in a vast forest ofred cedar, still a good distance from Stone River. The fog had liftedsomewhat, but the night was heavy, damp and dark. There was an abundanceof fallen wood, and the veterans soon built long rows of fires whichcontributed wonderfully to their cheerfulness.
"There's nothing like a fine fire on a cold, dark night," said SergeantWhitley, holding his hands over the flames. "Out on the plains whenthere was only a hundred or so of us, an' nothin' on any side fivehundred miles away 'xcept hostile Indians, an' a blizzard whistlin' an'roarin', with the mercury thirty degrees below zero, it was glorious tohave a big fire lighted in a hollow or a dip an' bend over the coals,until the warmth went right through you."
"It was the power of contrast," said Warner sagely. "The real comfortfrom the fire was fifty per cent and the howling of the icy gale, inwhich you might have frozen to death, but didn't, was fifty per centmore. That's why I'm feeling so good now, although I'd say that thosered cedars and their dark background are none too cheerful."
"I've got two good blankets," said Pennington, who was returning from atrip further down the line, "and I'm going to sleep. Haven't you fellowslearned that all your foolish talking before a battle never changesthe result? I can tell you this. Our three divisions that are marchingtoward Murfreesborough are in touch. We've put out swarms of scouts andthey all tell us so. They know exactly where the enemy is, too, and he'stoo far away to surprise us to-night. So it's sleep, my boys, sleep.Sleep will recover for you so much strength that it will be much harderfor you to get killed on the morrow."
Dick had dried himself very thoroughly before one of the fires, andwrapping himself in his two blankets he slept soundly and heavily. Therewas fog again the next morning, but they reached a little villagecalled Triune and all through the day they heard the sounds of scatteredfiring. One of the scouts told Colonel Winchester that the wholeSouthern army would be concentrated the next day on the line of StoneRiver, but that it would be inferior to the Union army in numbers by tenthousand men. Bragg's force, however, had the advantage of experience,being composed almost wholly of veterans.
It was on the afternoon of this day that Dick came into personal contactwith General Thomas again. He had been sent through the cedar forestwith dispatches to him from General McCook, and after the general hadread them he glanced at the messenger.
"You reached General Buell safely with my letter, Lieutenant Mason," hesaid, "and I'm very glad to see you here with us again."
"Thank you, sir," said Dick, feeling an immense pride because this man,whom he admired so much, remembered him.
"It was a difficult duty and you did it well. I found that you gotthrough safely. I made inquiries about you and I traced you as far asShiloh, but I could get no further."
"I was at Shiloh," said Dick proudly. "I was captured just before itbegan, but I escaped while it was at its height and fought until theclose."
"And after that?"
"My regiment was sent east, sir. I went with it through the SecondManassas and Antietam. Then we came back west to help General Buell. Iwas at Perryville and was wounded there, but I soon got well."
"Perryville was a terrible battle. It was short, but it is incrediblewith what fury the troops fought. We should do better here."
Dick saw that the last sentence which was spoken in a low tone was notaddressed to him. It was merely a murmured expression of the general'sown thoughts, and he remained silent.
"You can go now, Lieutenant Mason," said General Thomas, after a fewmoments, "and let us together wish for the best."
"Thank you, sir," said Dick, highly flattered again. Then he saluted andretired.
He rode back somewhat slowly through the cedars, but he kept a wary eye.The enemy's cavalry was daring, and he might be rushed by them at anytime or be ambushed by sharpshooters on foot. His watch for the enemyalso enabled him to examine the country closely. He saw many hills andhollows covered mostly with forests, with the red cedar and its darkgreen boughs predominating. He also saw the flash of many waters, and,where the roads cut through the soil, a deep red clay was exposed toview. He knew that it would be difficult for the armies to get intoline for battle, because of the heavy, sticky nature of the ground, uponwhich so much rain had fallen.
He made his way safely back to the camp of his corps, although he sawhostile cavalry galloping in the valleys in the direction of StoneRiver, and all through the afternoon he heard the crackle of rifle shotsin the same direction. The skirmishers were continually in touch andthey were busy.
The corps moved up a little, but Dick thought it likely that there wouldbe no battle the next day either. Rosecrans could not afford to attackuntil his full force, with all its artillery, was up, and marching wasslow and exhausting in the sea of sticky mud.
Dick was right. The Northern army was practically united the next day,but so great was the exhaustion of the troops that Rosecrans did notdeem it wise yet to attack his foe. He was fully aware of the qualityof the Southern soldiers. He remembered how they had turned suddenlyat Perryville and with inferior numbers had fought a draw. Now on thedefensive, and in such a deep and sticky soil, they would have a greatadvantage and his generals agreed with him in waiting.
Dick spent much of this day in riding with Colonel Winchester alongtheir lines. There was some talk about Bragg retreating, but the boy,a veteran in everything but years, knew the ominous signs. Bragg had nonotion of retreating.
In the night that followed Colonel Winchester himself and some of hisyoung officers, accompanied by the brave and skillful Sergeant Whitley,scouted toward Stone River. In the darkness and with great care, inorder to avoid any sound of splashing, they waded a deep creek and cameout upon a plateau, rolling slightly in character, and with a deep claysoil, very muddy from the heavy rains. A part of the plateau was clearedof forest, but here and there were groves, chiefly of the red cedar,and thickets, some of them so dense that a man would have difficulty inforcing his way through.
Colonel Winchester and his little group paused at the edge of the creek,and then dived promptly into a thicket. They saw further up the plateaumany fires and the figures of men walking before them and they sawnearer by sentinels marching back and forth. They were even able to makeout cannon in batteries, and they knew that it was not worth while to goany further. The Confederate army was there, and they would merely walkdirectly into its arms.
They returned with even greater caution than they had come, but the nextday the whole division crossed the creek at another point, and as itcautiously felt its way forward it encountered another formidable bodyof Southern pickets hidden in the woods. There was sharp firing for aquarter of an hour, and many of the Ohio men fell, but the pickets werefinally swept back, and at sunset the half circle that Rosecrans hadintended to form for the attack upon the Southern army was complete.
All the movements and delays brought them up to the night before thelast day in the year. The Winchester regiment with the Ohio division layin a region of little hills and rocks, covered with forest, with whichits officers and men were not familiar. On the other hand the Southernarmy would know every inch of it, and the inhabitants were ready andeager to give it information.
Dick could not keep from regarding the dark forests with apprehension.He had seen the Northern generals lose so much through ignorance of theground and uncertain movements that he feared for them again. He soonlearned that Rosecrans himself shared this fear. He had come to thedivision and recommended its closer concentration.
But the young Ohio troops were not afraid. They said that if they wereattacked they would hold their ground long enough for the rest of theNorthern army to beat the Southern, and McCook himself was confident.
Meanwhile, Bragg, after delaying, had suddenly decided to make theattack himself, and throughout the day he had been gathering his wholearmy for the spring. All his generals, Hardee, Breckinridge, Polk,Cleburne and the rest were in posit
ion and the cavalry was led byWheeler, a youthful rough rider, destined to become famous as FightingJoe Wheeler.
Each general was ready to attack in the morning, but neither knew thewillingness of the other. Yet everybody was aware that a great battlewas soon to come. They had felt it in both armies, and for two or threedays the firing of the skirmishers had been almost continuous. Scoutskept each side well informed.
Dick, Warner and Pennington, before they lay down in their blankets,listened to the faint reports of rifles. They could see little owingto the deep woods in which they lay, but the sound of the shots cameclearly.
"A part of our army is to cross the fords of Stone River in the morningby daylight or before," said Warner, "and we're to surprise the enemyand rush him. I wonder if we'll do it."
"We will not," said Pennington with emphasis. "We may beat the enemy,but we will not surprise him. We never do. Why should we surprise him?He is here in his own country. If the whole Southern army were soundasleep, a thousand of the natives would wake up their generals and tellthem that the Yankee army was advancing."
"Their sentinels are watching, anyhow," said Dick, "but I imagine thatwe'd gain something if the first rush was ours and not theirs."
"We'll hope for the best," said Warner, "I wonder whose time this willbe to get wounded. It was mine at Antietam, yours, Dick, at Perryville,and only you are left Pennington, so it's bound to be you."
"No, it won't be me," said Pennington stoutly. "I've been wounded in twoor three battles already, not bad wounds, just scratches and bruises,but as there were so many of 'em you can lump 'em together, and make onebig wound. That lets me out."
The Winchester regiment lay in the very thickest of the forest and inorder not to indicate to the enemy their precise position no fires werelighted. The earth was still soaked deep with the heavy rains and theirfeet sank at every step. But they did not make many steps. They hadlearned enough to lie quiet, seek what rest and sleep they could find,and await the dawn.