Si Klegg Experiences Of Si And Shorty On The Great Tullahoma Campaign Part 10

It was too much for some who had bravely maintained their places thus far, and they had to sink by the roadside.

Every minute of the first hour it seemed to Si and Shorty that they could not go a rod farther, but at the end of every rod they made an effort to go an other, and succeeded. The sun momentarily grew more burning, but also it seemed that every step brought them nearer the enemy, and the thought nerved them up to further exertion. Occasional rippling shots from watching parties of the rebel cavalry helped stimulate them.

Noon pa.s.sed. They were so near the works of Tullahoma that the collision might come at any minute could not be postponed many minutes. The regiments left the road and went into line-of-battle, stretching a long wave of blue through the deep green of the thick forests. How far it reached no one could tell. Occasional glimpses obtained through the openings in the woods showed miles of length.

Everything was deeply quiet, except occasional startling crashes from rebel outposts and the distant booming of cannon on the left.

The 200th Ind. was advancing through a heavy growth of jack-oaks.

Lines of rebel skirmishers had occasionally appeared in front of the regiment, fired a few shots, and then disappeared. The ease with which they were driven gave the impression that they were trying to lead the regiment into ambush, and it moved slowly and very watchfully.

At last, as the hot sun was beginning to sink in the far west, the regiment came to the edge of the young jack-oaks, and saw before it a sight which thrilled every heart.

There, a little distance away, lay the formidable works guarding Tullahoma. To the right and left, as far as the eye could reach, stretched a bristling line of abatis hundreds of yards wide and seemingly hopelessly impa.s.sable. It was made of the young jack-oaks felled outwards and their limbs sharp ened till they were like thorns.

Frowning behind this fearsome barrier were high-rising forts mounted with cannon, and connected with long, sinuous breastworks. A deep ditch filled with muddy water ran along the foot of the works.

Squads of rebels could be seen running back to the shelter of the fortifications. Every man in the regiment gave a quick, involuntary gasp as he saw his work before him.

The whole of the long line was halted and carefully dressed by the officers, still speaking as softly and kindly as if arranging a funeral procession, and the men stepping into places promptly, and with a tender solemnity of manner. There was none of the customary rude jostling and impatient sharpness. It was:

"You'll have to give away to the left a little, John; I haven't room."

"Come out there, boys, on the right. You're too far back."

"Jim, you'd better fall in behind. I don't believe you're strong enough to keep up."

Even the brash young "Second Lieutenant and Aid-de-Camp" seemed impressed with the intense gravity of the moment. He came up to the Colonel, and seeing he was on foot, respectfully dismounted, saluted, and said, without a vestige of his usual pertness:

"Colonel, the General presents his compliments, and says that the battery is badly stuck in the mud a little ways back. As we shall need it very much, he directs that you send a company to bring it up at once."

"Very good, sir," said the Colonel, gravely returning his salute, and speaking as gently as at a tea-table. "It shall be done. Capt.

McGillicuddy, take your company back and bring up the battery."

"Attention, Co. Q," suggested rather than commanded Capt. McGillicuddy.

"Stack arms. Corporal Klegg, you and your squad remain where you are.

You are too tired to do any good. Right face; file left; forward march."

The Colonel mounted his horse, rode down to the center of the regiment, and said, in a tone hardly raised above the conversational, but which made itself distinctly heard by every man:

"Fix bayonets."

There was an ominous crash of steel as the bright bayonets swept to their places.

"Men," continued the Colonel as quietly as if talk ing to a Sunday school, "we're going to take those works with the bayonet. Keep perfectly quiet; reserve your breath for quick, hard work, and pay close attention to orders. We'll move in quick time to the edge of that slashing of timber; every man make his way through it as best he can, keeping as near his Captain as possible. As soon as through it he will run with all his might for the works, fire his gun into the rebels as he jumps the works, and then rely on his bayonet. No man must fire a shot until we are crossing the works, and then I want every shot to fetch a rebel."

He waited a moment before giving the command to advance, for Co. Q, which had snaked the battery out of the mudhole in a hurry, was coming on a dead run in order to be on time for the charge. It s.n.a.t.c.hed its guns from the stacks, and lined up like a long flash of blue light.

The artillerymen had lashed their jaded horses into a feverish run, swept out into an open s.p.a.ce, flung their guns "into battery," and opened with a vicious bang on the rebel works.

So far not a head appeared above the breastworks; not a shot from the embrasures in the forts.

"They're just laying low," whispered Si to Shorty, as they instinctively brought their shoulders together and summoned their energies for the swift advance. "They'll blaze out like the fires o' h.e.l.l just as we git tangled up in that infernal timber-slashin'."

"Well," muttered Shorty, "we'll know mighty soon now. In five minutes we'll either be in Heaven or bayoneting the rebels in that fort."

"Battalion, forward march!" commanded the Colonel.

The regiments to the right and left got the command at the same instant, and the long wave of blue rolled forward without a break or fault in its perfect alignment.

A hundred yards were quickly pa.s.sed, and still the rebel works were as silent as a country churchyard. The suspense was fearful. Men bent their heads as if in momentary expectation of being struck by a fearful blast.

Another hundred yards. Still no bullet from the rifle-pits, no canister from the forts.

Another hundred yards, and they had struck the entangling abatis, and were feverishly working their clothes loose from the sharp-pointed limbs.

"Capt. McGillicuddy," excitedly shouted Si, "there's no men in them works.

Didn't you see that flock o' blackbirds just settle down on that fort?"

"That's true," said the Captain, after a quick glance. "Colonel, they've evacuated."

A little to the left of the company Si saw a path through the abatis made by the rebels taking short cuts in and out of the camp. He and Shorty quickly broke their way to it, and ran in feverish haste to the works. They found a puncheon laid to cross the ditch, ran over it, and mounted the rifle-pit. There was not a man inside of the works. The last of the garrison could be seen on the other side of Elk River, setting fire to the bridge by which they had just crossed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SI AND SHORTY WERE THE FIRST TO MOUNT THE PARAPET. 91]

Utterly exhausted by fatigue and the severe mental strain, Si and Shorty could do nothing more than give a delighted yell, fire their guns at the distant rebels, when they sank down in complete collapse.

Almost at the same time the same discovery had been made at other points in the long line moving to the a.s.sault; the inside of the works were quickly filled with a mob of rushing men, who seemed to lift the clouds with their triumphant yells.

The campaign for Tullahoma was at an end. Bragg had declined battle, and put the whole of his army out of reach of pursuit behind the swollen waters of Elk River.

That night by its cheerful campfires the exultant Army of the c.u.mberland sang from one end of its long line to the other, with thousands of voices joining at once in the chorus, its song of praise to Gen.

Rosecrans, which went to the air of "A Little More Cider."

Cheer up, cheer up, the night is past, The skies with light are glowing.

Our ships move proudly on, my boys, And favoring gales are blowing.

Her flag is at the peak, my boys, To meet the traitorous faction.

We'll hasten to our several posts, And immediately prepare for action.

Chorus.

Old Rosey is our man.

Old Rosey is our man.

We'll show our deeds where'er he leads, Old Rosey is our man.

CHAPTER VIII. THE GLORIOUS FOURTH INDEPENDENCE DAY FUN