The Young Sharpshooter at Antietam Part 39

Laughingly she was telling some of the boys in blue of one of her own relatives who had been in her home two days before the battle of South Mountain. Apparently all that he feared was that the demoralized army of the North, which had been driven from the Peninsula and out of Virginia, could not now be induced to enter into a contest.

"We are going to wipe them out this time, once and for all," the man had said. "And then for Philadelphia and New York! These Yankees will find out for the first time what war means when we get into their country! As for Maryland, we'll lose the last man before we'll retreat."

Before day broke that morning this woman had been aroused by a band of half-starved and weaponless men, clad in suits of ragged gray who stopped near her residence begging for food. A panic apparently had seized upon the men. She had heard one of these soldiers say that if he could only be taken prisoner he would be happy. In this crowd she had discovered the relative who confidently and positively had foretold the dire results of the coming battle for the Yankees.

"Why, John, is that you?" she had inquired. "I thought you were going to Philadelphia."

"It's no use talking about that, aunt," he replied foolishly. "We have been badly whipped, and I don't know where a single man or a single gun of my battery can be found to-day."

At this time a small body of men was seen approaching bearing a flag of truce. At its head rode a Confederate surgeon in a gray uniform which had been highly ornamented. On the end of a stick, which he held high, was a white handkerchief. The surgeon was accompanied by four soldiers carrying a blood-stained stretcher, while in charge of the little band was one of the boys in blue. Upon its arrival the leader requested to see the ranking official.

In response to his expressed wish the surgeon was taken to General Hooker and by him was granted permission to secure and bear off the body of one of the rebel colonels, who supposedly had fallen in the fight.

The long waiting by the division continued. Hunger as well as thirst now tormented the men. When the division at last moved forward, it was discovered that the advance then was to be to Keedysville, about six miles distant.

The little hamlet presented a strange appearance upon the arrival of the soldiers. The few stores and hotels were filled to overflowing with men clad in uniform. When night fell it seemed as if the train of wagons that steadily was moving past was almost unending. On the following day, when the men reached Keedysville, their progress was halted by a counter-current of cavalry and artillery moving to the right of what later proved to be a great battle-field.

At this time no one seemed to be positive as to just the position the enemy were occupying. Many of the boys in their enthusiasm believed that they had fled across the Potomac. Such opinions, however, were met by those who believed that the armies were on the eve of a desperate conflict.

When daylight came the following morning (Wednesday September 17, 1862), a frequent discharge of artillery, apparently about two miles to the right, soon gave place to a roar that was incessant, and then every one in the army knew that a battle already was beginning. The straggling little village was filed with orderlies and officers rushing hither and thither on various duties.

The division advanced until it was on the east side of the Antietam Creek. Beyond, were the enemy, flanked by the Potomac River. It seemed at first like an unfavorable position and one filled with deadly peril for the men in gray.

At this time Noel was not able to see any indication of a hidden force in the fields and woods opposite the position where his division had taken their stand. As yet, too, very few missiles had come as far as the place which he and his comrades were occupying. Ambulances could now be seen carrying off the more desperately wounded, or on their way back to the field for their new freights of agony.

The fighting seemed to be going on mostly on the right. The roar of the artillery and of the infantry became louder and more terrifying. As Noel advanced with his comrades he pa.s.sed improvised hospitals sheltered in a little valley. Farmhouses and barns were all occupied now, and still the stretcher-bearers brought in from the front a constant and fresh addition of suffering men.

It was no time for faint-heartedness, however. Into the smoke and the din of battle, out of which the bleeding forms had come, Noel and Dennis must enter.

So many were the stragglers from the field that the cavalry was brought up and stationed on the Hagerstown Turnpike and with drawn sabers prevented the withdrawal of any more.

On his right Noel saw troops drawn up in line of battle. On his left were other troops in a grove near the road. To his surprise as they advanced he saw some of the troops apparently falling back. A cry pa.s.sed through the ranks that General Hooker, who was in command of the division, had been wounded and that the right wing had been compelled to fall back. There were rumors also that the enemy far outnumbered the right wing and that there was great danger also for the left.

Beyond all that, Stonewall Jackson, a name that every Yankee soldier had come to respect, had sheltered his reserves behind some rocky ledges and had thrown up long lines of fence-rail breastworks.

A feeling of intense and bitter disappointment now took possession of the Union men. The division was sent ahead and drawn up in line of battle on both sides of the Hagerstown Turnpike. It seemed at that moment as if the Confederate soldiers were about to break through the army of the North and repeat the successes which they had won on the field of Bull Run.

One of the batteries in Noel's division had lost thirty-eight officers and men and twenty-eight horses. Two of his comrades had tried to appease their desperate feeling of hunger by a hoe-cake which they had taken from the haversack of a dead rebel soldier. One general in the division had leaped forward in a critical moment and personally sighted the guns when the enemy was almost upon him. Another general, of a different division, had ordered his brigade to advance, but he himself had remained behind.

Apparently matters once more were moving well, but just as Dennis and Noel were pushing with their comrades into some woods, they found themselves with others confronted by fresh troops who instantly stopped them with volleys so terrible that a retreat was unavoidable. Neither Noel nor Dennis knew at this time that the battle of Antietam really was nearly over. As yet, to both boys there seemed to have been set only the first act of the tragedy.

On the left the din of battle had long been heard and out in front the cannon thundered, and every moment an attack was expected on the division where Noel and Dennis were.

The cavalry now rested upon the ground in long lines. Its ranks were somewhat broken and thin. Steadily in their rear, the various reserves were being stationed to aid in resisting the attack which was expected.

The men of each brigade in turn were stacking their arms and then were lying down.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

CONCLUSION

Meanwhile the infantry, expecting the attack, rested on the ground in long lines. They were broken lines at the very best, and whenever Noel and Dennis glanced about them each felt a pang when he saw how many of the regiments, now gathered about the torn and bullet-riddled colors, were thin. At times, squads of men on the borders of the woods were seen, who were doubtless rebel pickets or persons who were curious, like some of the Yankee soldiers.

The captain walked down the lines in which Noel and Dennis were numbered. One of the men, holding up a large piece of pork on his sword, said, "Look here, captain! This is the allowance of pork for my men. I guess I shall have to eat it all, as I am the only one left."

At such a time many wild rumors have full swing. About four o'clock General McClellan, with his staff, rides along the lines and is greeted with great enthusiasm by his men. The report now is that the Union soldiers have been partly successful, the Confederates having been driven back, although they are still holding firmly the new position which they have taken.

An orderly stops for a word with Dennis and Noel. He shows a loaf of bread which he has obtained from a near-by farmhouse and a little piece of b.u.t.ter which he ingeniously has put in a hole cut in the loaf. All three, upon their comrade's invitation, sit down to enjoy the rare treat. The pleasure is increased by a cup of coffee, for the men now have been permitted to light fires by which to cook their rations. It looks very much as if the fighting for the day, at least, is ended.

Suddenly, about five o'clock, as abruptly as thunder is heard under a clear sky, a volley of shot and sh.e.l.l begins to strike or pa.s.s over and about the place where the men are gathered.

Before the officers are fairly able to mount their horses the thirty great guns, which have been waiting for this opportunity for hours, begin to sweep the woods and the cornfield with their deluge of shot and sh.e.l.l. The roar of the artillery soon is almost deafening. The thirty guns are being discharged one by one as rapidly as the men are able to load them. The little hillside actually shakes under the force of the shots. Dennis murmurs, "Faith! 'Tis not only the hill, but the whole planet that's shaking like a leaf now."

It is supposed that the fire of the rebels is introductory to an attack by their infantry. In view of this fact, the troops in front are notified to hold themselves in readiness, while those in the rear are called upon to fall in and to take their arms and advance closely to the crest of the hill and also to lie down there and to be ready for action at any moment. All the reserves are prepared and ready. The wagons now are drawn by galloping horses. The right wing is believed to be ready.

General Meade, who, after the wounding of General Hooker, succeeds to the command of the corps, rides up to the crest of the hill on which Noel and Dennis are stationed and studies the position of the batteries of the enemy almost as coolly as if he were at a review. Already there is a bullet-hole in his cap, but the quietness of the great leader in the midst of the confusion and peril is most impressive. He gives his orders to make ready for the storm.

Noel saw shots strike so close to his own comrades as to fling the dust over them. The heavy cannonading by the enemy continues for at least ten minutes, and it is with a great feeling of relief that Noel, as he glances about him, is unable to see that any men had been killed or wounded. Such artillery firing at long range is terrific to hear, but is seldom fatal.

Later it was learned from some of the prisoners that General Jackson's plan had been to attack with his infantry after the heavy cannonading.

Just before sunset was his favorite hour for such an order. The tremendous fire of the Union batteries, however, plainly showed him how well prepared his enemies were, and in a brief time his cannon ceased to play and the Union guns also became silent.

Fighting by the right wing ceased when the cannonading stopped. When the officers were convinced that there had been an end to the immediate attempt, they permitted every man to bring from the neighboring farms bundles of straw with which beds were made, and, still in line of battle, all soon stretched themselves upon these improvised resting-places.

The weary gunners tried to make themselves comfortable alongside their guns. The pickets were standing, with every sense alert, close to the rebel lines, and prepared to give instant warning should a night attack by the Confederates be attempted. Not an officer removed even his sword.

The horses, tied to near-by fences, were standing saddled and ready for instant use.

There was no tree above the heads of Noel and Dennis, and as they lay looking up at the stars, for the first time in twenty-four hours the tired boys were able to think of the experiences they had undergone.

Within a s.p.a.ce of four square miles two hundred thousand men were lying.

Some of them were stiff and stark and with sightless eyes were looking up into the pitying heavens. Some were stretched on beds in the improvised hospitals or lying wounded and bleeding under the trees.

Others, even in their sleep, are clasping the deadly weapons with which on the morrow they are expecting to renew the awful scenes of the day.

It was long before daylight the following morning when the little hill upon which Noel and Dennis had been sleeping was alive with men preparing their simple breakfasts and getting ready for the fighting of the coming day.

Somehow there was a feeling of confidence among the soldiers that the day was to be marked with victory. They now had every opportunity to drive the rebels into the Potomac, or perhaps to capture their entire army.

But when sunrise came and hour after hour pa.s.sed without any orders to advance, gradually a feeling of bitter disappointment took possession of the men. The day dragged on, the batteries still remained in position, and the infantry still were resting on their arms. In the position held by the enemy silence brooded throughout the day. It was nearly dark when orders came to be ready for action at sunrise on the morrow.

With such information the growlers ceased their complaints and there was a common hope that the enemy would not escape.

"'Tis only put off one day," said Dennis. "We'll either drive the Johnnies into the Potomac or carry them with us back to Washington."

The following day the men were aroused at three o'clock in the morning.

There was no haste in the orders or in the movements of the men. They ate their breakfast and drank their coffee, and then all made ready for battle. But again the hours pa.s.sed and there was no decisive action. At eight o'clock it was learned that the Confederates had slipped away and had withdrawn across the Potomac, and doubtless by this time were safely in Virginia.

The river into which the Union soldiers had believed they would drive their enemies had now become the best defense of Lee's army. The battles of South Mountain and Antietam were robbed of any decisive significance.