The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's Crisis Part 18

The sentinel lowered his rifle and looked at them sympathetically.

"Hangs like he's dead, but he ain't," he said. "You'll find a sort of hospital over thar in the big tents among them trees."

d.i.c.k found the improvised hospital, and put George down on a rude cot, within the shelter of one of the tents.

"He's my friend," he said to a young doctor, "and I wish you'd save him."

"There are hundreds of others who have friends also, but I'll do my best. Shot just under the right shoulder, but the bullet, luckily, has turned and gone out. It's loss of blood that hurt him most. You soldiers kill more men than we doctors can save. I'm bound to say that. But your friend won't die. I'll see to it."

"Thank you," said d.i.c.k. He saw that the doctor was kind-hearted, and a marvel of endurance and industry. He could not ask for more at such a time, and he went out of the tent, leaving George to his care.

It was still raining, but the soldiers managed to keep many fires going, despite it, and d.i.c.k pa.s.sed between them as he sought Colonel Winchester, and the fragments of his regiment. He found the colonel wrapped in a greatcoat, leaning against a tree under a few feet of canvas supported on sticks. Pennington, sound asleep, sat on a root of the same tree, also under the canvas, but with the rain beating on his left arm and shoulder.

Colonel Winchester looked inquiringly at d.i.c.k, but said nothing.

"I've been away without leave, sir," said d.i.c.k, "but I think I have sufficient excuse."

"What is it?"

"I've brought in Warner."

"Ah! Is he dead?"

"No, sir. He's had a bullet through him and he's feverish and unconscious, but the doctor says that with care he'll get well."

"Where did you find him?"

"Over there by the edge of the wood, sir, within what is now the Confederate lines."

"A credit to your courage and to your heart. Sit down here. There's a little more shelter under the canvas, and go to sleep. You're too much hardened now to be hurt seriously by wet clothes."

d.i.c.k sat down with his back against the tree, and, despite his soaked condition, slept as soundly as Pennington. When he awoke in the morning the hot sun was s.h.i.+ning again, and his clothes soon dried on him. He felt a little stiffness and awkwardness at first, but in a few minutes it pa.s.sed away. Then breakfast restored his strength, and he looked curiously about him.

Around him was the Northern army, and before him was the vast battlefield, now occupied by the foe. He heard sounds of distant rifle shots, indicating that the skirmishers were still restless, but it was no more now than the buzzing of flies. Pennington, coming back from the hospital, hailed him.

"George has come to," he said. "Great deed of yours last night, d.i.c.k.

Wish I'd done it myself. They let old George talk just a little, but he's his real old Vermont self again. Says chances were ninety-nine and a half per cent that he would die there on the battlefield, but that the half per cent, which was yourself, won. Fancy being only half of one per cent, and doing a thing like that. No, you can't see him. Only one visitor was allowed, and that's me. His fever is leaving him, and he swallowed a little soup. Now, he's going to sleep."

d.i.c.k felt very grateful. Pennington had been up some time, and as they sat down in the sun he gave d.i.c.k the news.

"It was a bad night," he said. "After you staggered in with George, the rebels, in spite of the rain, hara.s.sed us. I was waked up after midnight, and the colonel began to believe that we would have to fight again before morning, though the need didn't come, so far as we were concerned. But we were terribly worried on the flanks. They say it was Stuart and his cavalry who were bothering us."

"What's the outlook for to-day?"

"I don't know. I hear that General Pope has sent a dispatch saying that the enemy is badly whipped, and that we'll hold our own here. But between you and me, d.i.c.k, I don't believe it. We've been driven out of all our positions, so we can hardly call it a victory for our side."

"But we may hold on where we are and win a victory yet. McClellan and the Army of the Potomac may come. Anyway, we can get big reinforcements."

Pennington clasped his arms over his knees and sang:

"The race is not to him that's got The longest legs to run, Nor the battle to those people That shoot the biggest gun."

"Where did you get that song?" asked d.i.c.k. "I'll allow, under the circ.u.mstances, that there seems to be some sense in it."

"A Texan that we captured last night sang it to us. He was a funny kind of fellow. Didn't seem to be worried a bit because he was taken. Said if his own people didn't retake him that he'd escape in a week, anyhow.

Likely enough he will, too. But he was good company, and he sang us that song. Impudent, wasn't he?"

"But true so far, at least in the east. I fancy from what you say, Frank, that we'll be here a day longer anyhow. I hope so, I want to rest."

"So do I. I won't fight to-day, unless I'm ordered to do it. But I'm thinking with you, d.i.c.k, that we'll retreat. We were outmaneuvered by Lee and Jackson. That circuit of Jackson's through Thoroughfare Gap and the attack from the rear undid us. It comes of being kept in the dark by the enemy, instead of your keeping him in the dark. We never knew where the blow was going to fall, and when it fell a lot of us weren't there.

But, d.i.c.k, old boy, we're going to win, in the end, aren't we, in spite of Lee, in spite of Jackson, and in spite of everybody and everything?"

"As surely as the rising and setting of the sun, Frank."

Although d.i.c.k had little to do that day, events were occurring. It was in the minds of Lee and Jackson that they might yet destroy the army which they had already defeated, and heavy divisions of the Southern army were moving. d.i.c.k heard about night that Jackson had marched ten miles, through fields deep in mud, and meant to fall on Pope's flank or rear again. Stuart and his unresting cavalry were also on their right flank and in the rear, doing damage everywhere. Longstreet had sent a brigade across Bull Run, and at many points the enemy was pressing closer.

The next morning, Pope, alarmed by all the sinister movements on his flanks and in his rear, gathered up his army and retreated. It was full time or the vise would have shut down on him again. Late that day the division under Kearney came into contact with Jackson's flanking force in the forest. A short but fierce battle ensued, fought in the night and amid new torrents of driving rain. General Kearney was killed by a skirmisher, but the night and the rain grew so dense, and they were in such a tangle of thickets and forests that both sides drew off, and Pope's army pa.s.sed on.

d.i.c.k was not in this battle, but he heard it's crash and roar above the sweep of the storm. He and the balance of the regiment were helping to guard the long train of the wounded. Now and then, he leaned from his horse and looked at Warner who lay in one of the covered wagons.

"I'm getting along all right, d.i.c.k, old man," said Warner. "What's all that firing off toward the woods?"

"A battle, but it won't stop us. We retreated in time."

"And we've been defeated. Well, we can stand it. It takes a good nation to stand big defeats. You know I taught school once, d.i.c.k, and I learned that the biggest nation the world has ever known was the one that suffered the biggest defeats. Look at the terrible knocks the Romans got! Why the Gauls nearly ate 'em alive two or three times, and for years Hannibal whipped 'em every time he could get at 'em. But they ended by whipping everybody who had whipped them. They whipped the whole world, and they kept it whipped until they played out from old age."

d.i.c.k laughed cheerily.

"Now, you shut up, George," he said. "You've talked too much. What's the use of going back as far as the old Romans for comfort. We can win without having to copy a lot of old timers."

He dropped the flap of canvas and rode on listening to the sounds of the combat. A powerful figure stepped out of the bushes and stood beside his horse. It was Sergeant Whitley, who had pa.s.sed through the battle without a scratch.

"What has happened, Sergeant?" asked d.i.c.k, as he sat in the rain and listened to the dying fire.

"There has been a fight, and both are quitting because they can't see enough to carry it on any longer. But General Kearney has been killed."

The retreat continued until they reached the Potomac and were in the great fortifications before Was.h.i.+ngton. Then Pope resigned, and the star of McClellan rose again. The command of the armies about Was.h.i.+ngton was entrusted to him, and the North gathered itself anew for the mighty struggle.

CHAPTER VII. ORDERS NO. 191

When the Union army, defeated at the Second Mana.s.sas fell back on Was.h.i.+ngton, d.i.c.k was detached for a few days from the regiment by Colonel Winchester, partly that he might have a day or two of leave, and partly that he might watch over Warner, who was making good progress.

Warner was in a wagon that contained half a dozen other wounded men, or rather boys, and they were all silent like stoics as they pa.s.sed over the bridge to a hospital in Was.h.i.+ngton. His side and shoulder pained him, and he had recurrent periods of fever, but he was making fine progress.