CHAPTER XXIX
THE BATTLE
Noel Curtis was standing in front of the colonel's tent listening to theword of that anxious officer, who in response to the request of thechaplain was showing the young soldiers the pardon received from thePresident.
It was in Noel's mind to inquire concerning the fate of Levi. His ownfeeling about accepting the pardon which had been offered was unchanged,but in company with Dennis he had gone to the colonel's tent at thesuggestion of the chaplain, and with interest was listening to the wordsof that officer.
Suddenly the clatter of hoofs was heard, and as the men turned sharplyabout to ascertain the cause, they saw an orderly approaching with theinformation that the division at once was to advance.
Hastily positions were assigned to Dennis and Noel, who were to reportwith one of the New York regiments, and the marching orders speedily putother thoughts from their minds.
Almost before the men realized what had taken place, they foundthemselves marching along a dusty road with the air cool and theconfidence of the leaders manifest in many ways that appealed to theboys in blue. Naturally there were rumors of the battle which wasexpected, but so many similar reports had been current that some oftheir power to arouse the interest of the army was gone.
Several times the excitement of the advancing troops was increased bythe sight of little squads of rebel prisoners that had been taken by thecavalry skirmishing in advance.
One picture appealed with special force to Noel. The horses of theofficers of late had fared poorly at the hands of the quartermaster, andnow, as the troops halted near a barn, Noel saw several of thehalf-starved animals within the building enjoying the first oats theyhad received for days.
As Noel glanced behind him he saw a long column of troops winding aroundthe summit of the mountain over which he and his comrades had justpassed. The muskets of the men were glistening in the sunlight. Thelines resembled a mighty coil of armed men extending far down the sideof the mountain. Indeed, far beyond the place where Noel was standing,it could be seen, and was lost to view only by the winding of the roadin the distance. It was the finest view of a marching army he had everhad.
In the loft of the barn were a score or more of Confederates. Some ofthese unfortunate men were sick, others had been wounded in the recentcavalry skirmishes, and had been left by their comrades as they hadfallen back before the advance of the boys in blue. A guard or two wasattending to their wants, but every man as he peered out of the windowsseemed wan and pale, and the marks of the many privations and the heavyfatigue to which they had been exposed were plain on every side.
The farmer, near whose barn the line had halted, explained that a largebody of the rebels had passed his house not long before. The men wereill-clothed and seemed to be in want, he explained. The report of theman, however, did not deceive any of the Yankee soldiers. They were wellaware that the "Johnnies" were fierce fighters, and in spite of theirscarcity of food and clothing were standing up bravely and persistently.It was Dennis one time who made the remark that "these men might not beinspired of God, but they certainly were possessed of the divil."
Neither of the young soldiers dreamed of the fearful events which weresoon to follow. Whether prejudice or ignorance, truth or falsehood, werebehind the struggle, there was no question about the tremendousearnestness of both armies.
The Union army, when it entered the little city of Frederick, wassurprised as well as delighted at the ovation which it received frommany of the people. Shouts and songs and cheers greeted their arrivaland continued during their march through the city.
In the doorways of some of the houses girls and young women stood withpails of clear, sparkling water. Many of these enthusiastic girls heldglasses in their extended hands inviting the thirsty and dust-coveredsoldiers to drink.
It was Dennis who said glibly to Noel, when a halt was made beyond thelimits of the town, "I can't for the life of me tell what made me sothirsty this afternoon. I think I must have stopped a dozen times for adrink of water."
"Yes, I noticed it," said Noel demurely. "I have never seen anythinglike this dust. No, and it doesn't seem as if the dust was all that wasnew, either."
"There's one thing I don't see, though," said Dennis.
"What's that?"
"I don't see any of the big bugs, like the others, standing in thedoorways and giving water to our boys as they passed."
"I'm not surprised at that. I don't suppose the people who have money orown slaves can be very enthusiastic over our coming down here to settheir slaves free or destroy their property."
"Indade, and I niver once thought o' that," said Dennis.
Near sunset the army halted again, and, wearied by their long march,many of the men flung themselves upon the dust-covered grass by theroadside or underneath the projecting branches of some large trees, andsought a short respite from their labors.
The day was Sunday the 14th of September, 1862. To Noel, his thoughts atsuch a time naturally recalled the manner in which the day was spent inhis far-away home. There all was peace and quiet. About him now,however, were armed men and officers riding past and cannon were beingdragged up the dusty road. All these things presented a strikingcontrast to his vision of peace and quiet.
Noel saw that every one of his comrades was sleeping, not even beingaroused by the passing of a body of cavalry or by the stamping of thehorses of their officers.
He, too, was about to place his knapsack upon the ground for a pillowwhen, glancing up the road, to his surprise he saw Dennis running towardhim, dragging in his hand a large fallen branch of a tree.
That the young Irishman was about to perpetrate some prank Noel wasconvinced. Dennis was simply irrepressible. The fatigues of the day, orthe thoughts of the battle, in which it was commonly believed the armywas about to enter, did not seem to check the exuberant spirits ofDennis O'Hara.
As he approached the place where Noel was seated, suddenly the youngIrishman swiftly entered the road and, stamping loudly upon the ground,began to run close to the place where many of the soldiers weresleeping.
Adding to the confusion, Dennis began to shout, "Whoa! Whoa, there!Whoa!" He did not check his own advance, however, and running swiftly,dragged the branch he was carrying over the bodies and faces of some ofthe sleeping men.
Instantly every one of the soldiers who had felt the touch of thesweeping branch or heard the sound of Dennis's voice sat erect, andthen, convinced that a body of horsemen were trampling upon them,quickly leaped to their feet and ran from the place. In spite of theirweariness a shout greeted the prank of Dennis and caused the youngIrishman to laugh loudly.
"They make me think," said Dennis, "of the old sport who took his gunand traveled two days over the brakes and ferns and up and down themountains huntin' for a bear. Just at the close of the second day hefound the footprints of the old fellow and pretty soon afterward heheard a growl from a rocky ledge that was too close to him for comfort.The man stopped and scratched his head, and turnin' to his brother, whowas close behind him, he said, 'Now, look out! These tracks are gettin'a little fresh! I believe I don't want any bear after all, so I'll goback home.' It's a lot of brave men we have been hearin' talk aboutcomin' up to the front and drivin' the Johnnies through every gap inthese mountains, but whin a poor harmless boy comes along and shakes abranch of a tree over thim, they are all so scared they don't even stopto find out whether 'tis a Yank or a Reb that's chasin' thim."
It was not long before the march was resumed. The turnpike over whichthe soldiers moved was broad and smooth, and as the men passed throughthe rolling country its contrast with that which they had seen in theircampaign in the Peninsula was marked by every one.
At the next halt the chaplain, who had proved himself such a warm friendto both of the young soldiers, approached the place where the two boyswere seated by the roadside.
"That's General Burnside and his staff over yonder," he explained toNoel. "General Hooker is to lead our division."
; "There's going to be a battle surely, isn't there?" inquired Noel.
"I think there is no doubt of it," replied the chaplain, "and I have astrange feeling about this engagement. I know I shall be shot."
"Nonsense!" protested Noel.
"But I shall be. I was shot when I was on the Peninsula almost the firstchance I got. I was only slightly wounded there, but this time I shallbe killed. I know it."
"Shure, 'tis only a foolish notion that's got into your head," protestedDennis. "Get rid of it, yer Riverence! Cheer up! Shure, you'll come outall right."
"I wish I might think so. If I fall I shall fall doing my duty."
"Niver a doubt about that. Every man of us knows that you won't be shotin the back."
The kind-hearted man soon passed on, but the impression he had made uponthe mind of Noel was one which the boy was unable to shake off. He, too,was fearful of the coming contest. He was doing his utmost to repressthe feeling and was striving hard to hold himself to the line which hadbeen mapped out for him.
Apparently there were no rebel battalions now threatening the passage.No cannon warned the advancing army from the narrow entrance between thehills which they were approaching. These hills on either side of thepass now were crowned with the glories of the approaching sunset. A fewclouds were seen in the sky, and in the distance occasional quick rushesof smoke-puffs arose just above the trees and then the sight wasfollowed by the sound of a heavy boom.
Far to the left there were other puffs, and as they were faintly seen inthe distance there were quick responses from the Union artillery.
"Shure," muttered Dennis, "the artillery is beyond and with the help ofthe infantry they'll drive the Johnnies out o' the way."
A rattle of musketry only faintly heard confirmed the words of the youngIrish soldier.
Above them and beyond were forests. Unseen foes without doubt werelurking within the shelter of the great trees. Even now the opposingarmies might be preparing to rush madly against each other. Somehow thesmooth white turnpike began to lose its peaceful aspect in the eyes ofNoel Curtis.
The toiling soldiers, climbing a steep ascent now, were soon aware thatbetween them and the main ascent of South Mountain was an extensivevalley.
There were sharp calls from the officers, the line of march was changedfrom the open turnpike, and the men approached a cornfield upon thehillside.
In the midst of the passage through the field suddenly the great guns ofthe Confederates opened upon the line with solid shot. Down the hilldashed the army, then swiftly crossing the little valley, began thesteady climb of the mountain-side.
A few yards from the base of the mountain was a fence. Below the fencethe ground was cleared, while above it the face of the mountain wascovered with rocks and trees.
Steadily and surely the boys in blue advanced, and when they had arrivedwithin fifty yards of the place they were seeking, a rapid fire ofmusketry was opened upon them by the Confederates, who lay concealedbehind the fence.
Bullets whistled about their ears. There were shouts and calls from theleaders and loud and prolonged cheers from their willing followers. Witha wild shout the men dashed forward. Indeed, their course was almostupward, so steep was the ascent. Volley after volley was poured in uponthem, but as yet the brave boys did not heed them and still rushed madlyforward.
The Confederates, astonished by the recklessness and the apparentdisregard of their bullets, began to give way. Successfully theadvancing soldiers gained the fence and then instantly sprang over it.To their surprise, however, their enemies re-formed among the rocks andrenewed the fight with unshaken determination.
It was at this time that the chaplain, who had shown his friendship forthe boys, accompanied by a young lieutenant, was just springing over thefence when a bullet struck him and he fell back upon the ground.