The Iron Game - Henry Francis Keenan
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The march is instantly halted. The mass, moving in a column, is
deployed--that is, stretched out to cover a mile or more as it moves
forward; the cavalry divides and rides far to right and left, to see
that no ambush is set to enable the rebels to sneak in behind the vast
human broom, as it sweeps through the solemn aisles of the pines, now
rising in vernal columns thicker and thicker. The firing is going on now
in scattering volleys, and soon the wounded--a dozen or more--are
carried back through the silent ranks. Joking has now ceased. Lips are
compressed; eyes glitter, and the men avoid meeting each other's gaze.
It is the moment of all moments, the most trying to the soldier, when he
is expecting every instant a hurricane of bullets, and yet sees no one
to avenge his anguish on or forestall in the deadly work. But they have
been moving forward all the time, the hurtling bullets sweeping through
the leafy covering, now and then thumping into the soft pine with a
vicious joyousness, as if to say to each man, "The next is for you, see
how well our work is done." For these hideous missiles have a language
of their own, as every man that stood fire can tell. The skirmishers are
now all drawn in. The solid line must do the work at hand. No one but
the commander and his confidants knew the work intended, save that to
kill and be killed was the business to be done. The panting lines are on
high cleared ground now, and they can see absolutely nothing but the
irregular depressions that mark the channel of the Bull Run, as it
rushes down to the Rappahannock. The line is moving along steadily.
Looking to left and right, Jack can see the colors of three regiments,
and his eye rests with pleasure on the bright, shining folds of the
Caribees' dark-blue State flag spread to the breeze beside the stars of
the Union. Are they to cross the river? Evidently, for the command is
still "Forward, bear center, bear right." Then, square in front, where
the thick, broad leaves of the oak glitter in the sun, there is seen a
cylinder of steam-like smoke, with fiery gleams at the end, a crackling
explosion of a hogshead of fire-crackers, then a rushing, screaming
sound in their very faces, then a few rods behind a ringing, vicious
explosion. They are in the very teeth of a masked battery. The Union
skirmishers have been withdrawn too soon. The main line will be torn to
pieces, for retreat is as fatal as advance.
"Lie down, men!" The command rings out and is echoed along the column.
The guns have the range, and the enemy knows the ground. The Caribees
are directly in the sweep of the artillery, and the command comes to
them by company to crawl backward, exposing themselves as little as may
be. Presently two brass guns are brought up behind the Caribees. The
gunners have noted the point of the enemy's fire. The men point the big
muzzles with intrepid equanimity, firing over the prostrate blue coats.
For twenty minutes, perhaps half an hour, this is kept up; then there is
silence on the hill beyond. The column rises to its feet, and at the
command, "Forward!" they start with a rush and a cheer. Five hundred
yards onward, and a solid mass of gray coats confront them. A volley is
fired and returned; the exulting Caribees, with two lines behind them,
give a loud cheer and, in an instant, the gray mass has disappeared, as
if the earth had opened. The skirmish-line, advancing now, picks up a
half-dozen or more wounded rebels, besides two or three who had become
confused in the hasty retreat and run toward the "Yankees" instead of
their own line. Jack's comrade held this conversation with one of the
prisoners:
"I say, reb, what place is this?"
"Mitchell's Ford."
"Much of your army here?"
"'Nuff to lick you uns out of your boots, I reckon."
"What did they run across the ford for, then?"
"Oh, you'll see soon enough--when our folks get ready."
"Who's in command here?"
"General Bonham, of South Carolina."
"How many men, about?"
"Well, there's right smart on to a million, I reckon. They had to cut
the trees down, yonder, to get room for 'em.".
The man's eyes twinkled as he gave this precise approximation; but
Barney, who had brought the humorist in, whispered to the captain to let
him have a moment's speech with the man before he was sent away. The
captain nodded, and Barney said innocently:
"Had anything to eat to-day?"
"Not a mouthful. The trains were all taken up with soldiers coming from
Richmond."
"Have a bit of beef--and here's a cracker or two. You can have some
coffee if the guards will let you make it."
"Old Longstreet himself would envy me now," the rebel cried, his mouth
stuffed with the cold meat and hard-tack, almost as fresh and crisp as
soda-crackers, for the contractors had not yet learned the trick of
making them out of sawdust, white sand, and other inexpensive
substitutes for flour.
"Longstreet?" Barney said, carelessly.
"Yes, that's the commander of the right wing, just below, at Blackburn's
Ford."
"Blackburn's Ford?"
"Yes, that's a mile down, and really behind you uns, for the run makes a
big elbow to the east. I tell you what it is, Yank, you'll see snakes
right soon, for our folks are behind you."
Sure enough, a crackling to the left confirmed this, and the captain,
who had listened to Barney's adroit cross-questioning, sent the man with
a note to Colonel Sherman, a few rods in the rear. Ten minutes later the
column fell into ranks again and moved off swiftly southeastward. A
march of a mile or so brought them to a bold ridge cutting down almost
aslant to the clear water of the run. The skirmishers, for some reason,
had not pushed ahead to explore the ground, and the regiments, marching
in close masses, came out in a rather disorderly multitude on the ridged
crest. A hundred yards nearly below the water-course was fringed with
thick copses of oak, and the gently ascending slopes on the western bank
were completely hidden from the Union lines. A few gaunt, almost
limbless trees rose up spectrally on the ridge, offering the compact
masses neither shelter from the sun nor security from the enemy--if
there were an enemy near.
Dick came up to Jack out of breath with great news, just as the Caribees
were aligning themselves to move forward.
"General Tyler just told Richardson"--a brigade commander--"that the
rebels had retreated from Manassas, and he (Tyler) is going to have the
glory of occupying the works: that McDowell thought the army would have
to fight a big battle to get--"
"Glory!" the group shouted, near enough to hear; and the delightful
story ran up and down the lines by a telephone process that was much
swifter than Edison's electric invention. A roar of gratulatory triumph
broke--a roar so loud and inspiring that for a moment the densely packed
masses did not distinguish an ear-splitting outburst just in front of
them. But on the instant piercing shrieks among the huddled
cheerers--cries of death and agony--changed the paeans of triumph into
wails of anguish and mortal pain. A panic--instant, unreasoning,
irresistible--fell upon the mass, a breath before so confident. A third
of the regiment seemed to wither away. The colors fell in the struggling
group in the center. Hoarse shouts, indistinguishable and ominous, could
be vaguely heard from the staff and line.
Direr still, hideous clamor of masked cannon, right in their very faces,
added the horror of surprise to the disorder of attack, and the thick
blue lines broke in irrestrainable confusion. The terror of the unknown
seized officers and men alike. In five minutes the crest was cleared,
and the ignoble vanity, ignorance, and self-sufficiency of one man had
undone in an hour the splendid work of the commander-in-chief. A _melee_
of miserable, disgraceful disorder ensued. The rebel sharpshooters,
hurrying to the flank, poured in hurtling, murderous volleys, filling
the minds of the panic-stricken mob with the idea, the most awful that
can enter a soldier's mind, that his line is surrounded. Hundreds threw
away guns and everything that could impede flight. Other hundreds fired
wildly wherever they saw moving men, and thus aided the rebels in
killing their own comrades, for it was into the supporting Union forces
they directed their random shots. The fire grew every instant more
bewildering. Shots came in volleys from every direction, and the
helpless hordes darted wildly together--sometimes toward, instead of
from the enemy. Had the rebels been as numerous as they were crafty, the
brigade could have been seized _en masse_. But now Sherman is at hand
with fresh regiments, others are at his heels, and the contest takes on
some of the order of intelligent action. The rebels, too, are
re-enforced, but the dispositions made by the Union chiefs bring the
combat to equal terms. The clamor of cannon and musketry continues an
hour, though the lines are now among the friendly undergrowth, and the
losses are not serious. But the Caribees, with the regiment supporting
them, have been blotted from the scene as a factor. For hours the
scattering groups fled--fled in ever-increasing panic, and it was long
after dark before the remnants of the regiment came into camp at
Centreville.
Poor Jack! He gave no heed to supper that dreadful night. He threw
himself on the ground, too exhausted to think and too disheartened to
talk. He couldn't understand the shameful panic. The Caribees were not
cowards; every man in the regiment had longed for the battle. When under
fire at Mitchell's Ford, an hour earlier than the disaster at Blackburn,
all had stood firmly in place, fought with coolness, and gave no sign of
fear. The volume of fire when they broke was not much greater than the
Mitchell's Ford volleys. During the night Grandison came to camp and
assembled the officers. He expressed his sorrow at the sudden shadow
that had fallen on the fair fame of the regiment, but since the panic
had not been followed, as such outbreaks often are, by the total
destruction of the men, there would be abundant chance to redeem the
disgrace of the day. He had himself begged the division commander to
give the men another trial, and he had staked his commission on their
doing such duty as would remove the tarnish of the afternoon from
their banners.
The officers had been dispirited. Major Mike had raged over the field,
through the woods, a very angry man indeed, belaboring the fleeing men
with his sword and imploring those he couldn't reach to "come to me
here. Dress on me. There's no call to be afeard. We've more men than
they have, and we'll soon wallop them."
But the resounding blows on the backs of those near the officer did not
give the encouraging emphasis to his appeal that captivates men whose
reasoning faculties are almost gone for the moment. Before daylight on
the next morning--Saturday, the 20th--the companies were called together
and little addresses were made to the men by the officers. The substance
of Colonel Grandison's words was imparted, and the hope expressed that
when, in the course of that or the next day the regiment was again under
fire, they would show that the panic of yesterday had not been
cowardice. The men said nothing, and every one was glad that the light
was so dim that the officers could not look in their faces, though, as a
matter of fact, the shoulder-straps had shown as little fortitude as the
muskets in the dispersion. All that day the forces rested, the Caribees
providing themselves with new arms and equipments, or the two or three
hundred who had flung their own away. During the afternoon an incident
happened in the division that lessened the mortification of the
Caribees. A splendid regiment and a battery of bronze guns came into the
highway from the extreme of the line that was expected to take part in
the battle which all knew would be opened the next morning. Every one
was surprised to see the men moving without muskets and the colors
wrapped in their cases. "Where you bound for?" some one at the roadside
yelled curiously.
"Our time is out; we're going home."
Then a derisive howl followed the line as it passed through the masses
of the army, and remarks of an acrid nature were made that were not
gratifying to the departing patriots:
"Don't you want a guard to protect you?"
"Does your mamma know you're out alone?"
"Wait till to-morrow and we'll send Beauregard's forces to see you safe
home."
The men and officers looked very conscious and uncomfortable under the
gamut of jeers, for word went along the line, and all along the route to
the rear they passed through this clamor of contemptuous outcry.
"Well, I thought we had reached the eminent deadly pinnacle of
disgrace," Barney said, with a sigh, as a group of Company K watched the
considerable number taken out of McDowell's small army, "but this sight
makes me feel like the man on trial for murder who escapes with a
verdict of manslaughter."
CHAPTER X.
BLOOD AND IRON.
Late at night Dick came down to Jack's bivouac with a strange tale.
McDowell had come to Tyler's quarters storming with rage. He had accused
that officer of disobeying orders in forcing a fight on the fords of
Bull Run where he had been told to merely reconnoitre.
The staff believed that Tyler would be cashiered, for he had not only
wrecked the general's plan of battle, but he had given the rebels the
secret of the movement and demoralized one wing of the army by putting
raw soldiers in front of masked batteries that could have been detected
by proper outpost work. Then one of the staff reported a speech Tyler
had made when his troops rushed over the empty rebel breastworks and
forts around Centreville. His officers were discussing the probable
forces Beauregard had behind the crooked stream beyond.
"I believe we've got them on the run," Tyler said, exultingly, "from
what we see here. I tell you the great man of this war is the man that
plants the flag at Manassas, and I'm going through to Richmond
to-night."
"Not much comfort in knowing we've got such a fool for a commander,"
Jack cried, thinking of the disgrace of the day before and of the small
chance the regiment had under such a chief to redeem its prestige on the
morrow. All personal griefs, everything but the pending battle, were
driven from the men's minds as the signs of the momentous work of the
morrow accumulated. The hospital corps was up in force. The yellow flag
floated from an immense tent near the roadway. A great _cortege_ of
general officers rode away from McDowell's quarters about ten in the
evening. The haversacks were filled with three days' cooked rations. One
hundred rounds of ammunition to a man were dealt out to each company.
Everything not absolutely necessary was ordered to the company wagons.
The talk in the camp that night was of home--of anything and everything
but the dreadful to-morrow, so long looked forward to with eager hope,
now regarded with uncertainty that was not so much fear as the memory of
the panic at Blackburn's Ford. Jack was provided with a large atlas map
of Virginia, and with the bits of information given by Dick he was able
to conjecture the probable plan of the next day. The cronies of Company
K listened in delight to his exposition of the action.
"Here," he said, "is the Bull Run. It makes two big elbows eastward
toward us--one about four miles to the northwest of us, the other about
eight miles to the southeast of that, and about four miles from our
right hand here! The rebel we quizzed yesterday says that there are five
fords between the Warrenton pike bridge--that's just ahead of us yonder
at the end of the road we are on--the last one is McLean's Ford, at the
very knuckle of the elbow that is crooked toward us a mile west of where
we were yesterday. That is near the railway, which it is Beauregard's
business to fight for and our business to get, for then he will have to
fall back near Richmond to feed his army. Now from the railway where it
crosses Bull Run near Mitchell's Ford to the Warrenton road, which
Beauregard must also hold, is about nine miles. He must guard all these
fords, and we must fight for any one or two of them that we need to
cross by. The only problem is, whether our general is going to strike
with his right arm at Mitchell's Ford, his left arm at this very
Warrenton road we are on, or whether he means to butt the middle of the
line of Beauregard's battle to break him into two pieces?"
"What would Frederick the Great or Napoleon do?" Nick asked, absorbed in
Jack's confident predications.
"If Frederick had equal forces he would have a reserve just where we
shall be in the morning--there at that point marked 'Stone Ridge,' and
move a heavy mass to the southwest below McLean's Ford there, where you
see the railway runs along the run for a half-mile or more. Or he would
send this body to the northeast, over there where you see Sudley Springs
marked in rather large letters, and he would by either one of these
movements turn the enemy's flank--that is, get in behind him and force
him to change front to fight, something that is rarely done successfully
in battle. Napoleon would, on the contrary, mass all his best troops at
the stone bridge, open the fight with every piece of artillery he could
bring to bear, and in the panic send divisions ten deep across
the bridge."
"Which would be the better plan?"
"Ah! that no one can say. The first is sure enough and less dangerous,
if the commander is not certain of his men, because you notice that we
felt excellent and confident all day, so long as we were marching
forward and pushing the enemy from our path. The trial in battle is to
be kept standing under fire, not sure where your enemy is; and then you
noticed that our own guns behind us, sending shot and shells over us,
were just as trying as the rebels'. Only soldiers of the very first
class can be depended on in the Napoleon tactics. We are not soldiers of
the first class; and you may be sure McDowell, who was many years in
Europe, and who is a trained officer, will make use of the manoeuvres
best calculated to bring out whatever there is in his men. As a matter
of opinion, I should say that, in view of the miserable affair on the
right yesterday, he will strike out for Sudley Springs, where we shall
have the rebels just as you would have me if you were at my side, held
my left arm behind me, ready to break my back with your knee planted
in it."
Jack was sergeant of the guard that night, and it was in the group of
sentries awaiting their relief every two hours, re-enforced by his
tent-mates of Company K, that these learned dissertations on war were
carried on. It was a never to be forgotten Saturday night to millions
yet living. In Washington the President and his Cabinet sat far into the
morning hours receiving the dispatches from the weary and disappointed
chief--for, if Tyler had not made his miserable attempt to reach
Manassas, the battle would have been fought that vital Saturday, and the
result would have been another story in history. As the morning broke,
red and murky, the army was up and in line, but without the usual noisy
signals. The artillery-horses began to move first wherever it was
possible. The heavy guns were pushed forward on the sward, to prevent
the loud metallic clangor that penetrated the still air like clashing
anvils. By half after six, the advance brigade, the Caribees in their
old place, were within gunshot of the stone bridge.
"Ah ha, Jack! It is the Napoleonic plan!" Barney cried, as the artillery
took places in front of the masses lying on the ground.
"Wait," Jack cried, owlishly. "The battle isn't fought always where the
guns are loudest."
But the guns were now loud and quick. The rebels, behind a thick screen
of trees, took up the challenge, and every sound was drowned in the roar
of the artillery. A few far in the rear were wounded--those nearest the
rebels were in the least danger, whether because the guns could not be
sufficiently depressed, or because the gunners were poor hands, couldn't
be determined. A breathless suspense, an insatiate craving to see, to
move, to fly forward, or do anything, devoured the prostrate ranks. The
firing had gone on two hours or more, which seemed only so many minutes,
when to the group near General Tyler a courier, panting and dusty, rode
in great excitement.
"General Tyler, the major-general has just learned that the enemy have
crossed in force at Blackburn's Ford, below you. You are at once to take
measures to protect your left flank."
"Ah ha, Jack; Frederick's on the other side, eh?" Barney said, as,
standing near the group, these words reached their ears.
"Perhaps there are two Fredericks at work. Look yonder!" handing him his
glass as he spoke.
"Thunder! our whole army is marching over there to the right, and we
sha'n't even see the battle. They are four miles off. Why, what an
immense army we must have! I thought this was the bulk of it, but we're
not a brigade compared to that."
"Now, Barney, I feel confident that is the grand movement. Look how they
fly along! The fields are as good as roads out there, and if it were not
for the artillery they could make five miles an hour. Now, keep your
ears open, my lad: you'll hear music off there to the northwest, music
that will make Beauregard sick, if that courier's information is exact.
For, don't you see, as we are placed here, with that gully to our left
and the thick woods in front, we could hold this ground against six
times our number."
Company K were now sent forward to the right to relieve a body of
skirmishers that had been hidden on the margin of Bull Run, some
distance to the westward of the stone bridge. Jack, going forward with
his glass, noticed an officer among the men, but not catching sight of
his face did not recognize him.
"Is that a rebel or one of our fellows?" one of the men said, pointing
to a horseman disappearing in the woods four hundred yards to the right
and in front of the company, marching in a straggling line two abreast,
"by the flank," as it is called. Jack took his glass to discover, but
the rider had disappeared. An instant after from a knoll, Jack, glass at
eye, was examining eagerly the field on the other side of the river,
when a horseman suddenly shot into view, riding desperately.
"By George, it is the same man! I wonder how he crossed the stream?
There must be a bridge down there among those thick trees and bushes,"
Jack said, excitedly.
"Are you sure, sergeant, that is the same man that was in the woods to
the right there, five minutes ago?"
Jack turned; the officer was at his shoulder. He saluted respectfully,
recognizing, with a thrill of joy, old Red Top, as the company
called Sherman.
"Yes, colonel, it's the same man. He was in his shirtsleeves and had a
blue scarf tied about his arm. There can be no mistake; several of us
saw him quite plainly."
"If that be true, we've gained a half-day's work in two minutes." He was
looking diligently through the glass as he spoke, and his eye brightened
as he marked the man until he disappeared. He turned to an orderly that
was following at a distance leading a horse. Mounting this lightly the
colonel rode to the head of the company and said in a short,
decisive tone:
"Come ahead men, at a double-quick, until you strike the stream." He
kept beside the men as they moved. In fifteen minutes they were at the
water's edge. Then the company was deployed as skirmishers, two thirds
halting where they struck the water and the rest keeping on up the bank
of the river for a few hundred yards. Sherman was eying every inch of
the bank until, suddenly reaching a break where fresh tracks of a horse
were visible, he directed his orderly to follow, and plunged into the
water. It was not up to the horses' knees from bank to bank. Riding
back, his face aglow, the colonel ordered the captain to cross half his
men and station them up and down on the bank where they would not be
seen by the rebels on the high ground above. Then, addressing Jack,
he said:
"Sergeant, select two or three trusty men. Follow the bank of the stream
until you come to General Hunter's division, which may be a mile,
perhaps more, to the right yonder; you can tell by the firing soon. Tell
General Hunter that we have discovered a ford and shall not have to
fight for the stone bridge. We shall be across in no time and take the
enemy in the rear. If you can't find Hunter, give this intelligence to
any officer in command. Stay."
He scribbled a line on a sheet of his order-book, saying: "This will be
your authority. It's better not to write the rest for fear you should be
captured. In case you are in danger tell each man with you what to say,
so that there will be more chances of getting the information where it
will do good; and remember, sergeant, that this news in Hunter's hands
will be almost equivalent to victory. Ah!"
He paused again. Reverberating crashes came from the high grounds up the
river. "You will have no trouble in finding him now. Those are Hunter's
guns. Hurry."