The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's Crisis Part 35

The decimated Ohio regiments beyond the creek were gathering themselves anew for the battle, and so were the men of Colonel Winchester, now reduced to half their numbers again. Then a great shout arose. A fresh brigade had come up to their relief, and aided by these new men they made good the ground upon which they stood.

Another shout arose, telling that Buell was coming, and, two hours after the combat had opened, he arrived with more troops. But night was now at hand, and the sun set over a draw like that at Antietam. Forty thousand men had fought a battle only about three hours long, and eight thousand of them lay dead or wounded upon the sanguinary field. One half the Union army never reached the field in time to fight.

As both sides drew off in the darkness, d.i.c.k shouted in triumph, thinking they had won a victory. A bullet fired by some retiring Southern skirmisher glanced along his head. There was a sudden flash of fire before him and then darkness. His body fell on a little slope and rolled among some bushes.

The close hot night came down upon the field, and the battle, the most sanguinary ever fought on Kentucky soil, had closed. Like so many other terrible struggles of the Civil War, it had been doubtful, or almost, so far as the fighting was concerned. The Northern left wing had been driven back, but the Northern right wing had held firm against every attack of the enemy.

Pennington, when he lay panting on the ground with the remnant of the Winchesters, knew little about the result of the combat. He knew that their own division had suffered terribly. The Ohio recruits had been cut almost to pieces, and the Winchester regiment had been reduced by half again. He was so tired that he did not believe he could stir for a long time. He felt no wound, but every bone ached from weariness, and his throat and mouth seemed to burn with smoke and dust.

Pennington did not see either d.i.c.k or Warner, but as soon as he got a little strength into his limbs he would look for them. No doubt they were safe. A special providence always watched over those fellows. It was true that Warner had been wounded at the Second Mana.s.sas, but a hidden power had guided d.i.c.k to him, and he got well so fast that he was able to fight soon afterward at Antietam.

Pennington lay still, and he heard all around him the deep breathing of men who, like himself, were so worn that they could scarcely move. The field in front of him darkened greatly, but he saw lights moving there, and he knew that they belonged to little parties from either army looking for the wounded. He began to wonder which side had won the battle.

"Ohio," he said to one of the Ohio lads who lay near, "did we lick the Johnnies, or did the Johnnies lick us?"

"Blessed if I know, and I don't care much, either. Four fellows that I used to play with at school were killed right beside me. It was my first battle, and, Oh, I tell you, it was awful!"

He gulped suddenly and began to cry. Pennington, who was no older than he, patted him soothingly on the shoulder.

"I know that you were the bravest of the brave, because I saw you," he said.

"I don't know about that, but I do know that I can never get used to killing men and seeing them killed."

Pennington was surprised that d.i.c.k and Warner had not appeared. They would certainly rejoin their own regiment, and he began to feel uneasy.

The last shot had been fired, the night was darkening fast and a mournful wind blew over the battlefield. But up and down the lines they were lighting the cooking fires.

Pennington rose to his feet. He saw Colonel Winchester, standing a little distance away, and he was about to ask him for leave to look for his comrades, when he was startled by the appearance of a woman, a woman of thirty-eight or nine, tall, slender, dressed well, and as Pennington plainly saw, very beautiful. But now she was dusty, her face was pale, and her eyes shone with a terrible anxiety. Women were often seen in the camps at the very verge or close of battle, saying good-bye or looking for the lost, but she was unusual.

The soldiers stood aside for her respectfully, and she looked about, until her gaze fell upon the colonel. Then she ran to him, seized him by the arm, and exclaimed:

"Colonel Winchester! Colonel Winchester!"

"Good heavens, Mrs. Mason! You! How did you come?"

"I was at Danville, not so far from here. Of course I knew that the armies were about to meet for battle! And it was only two days ago that I heard the Winchester regiment had come west to join General Buell's army."

A stalwart and powerful colored woman emerged from the darkness and put her arm around Mrs. Mason's waist.

"Don't you get too much excited, chile," she said soothingly.

Juliana stood beside her mistress, a very tower of defense, glaring at the soldiers about them as if she would resent their curiosity.

"I thought I would come and try to see d.i.c.k," continued Mrs. Mason. "My relatives sought to persuade me not to do it. They were right, I know, but I wanted to come so badly that I had to do it. We slipped away yesterday, Juliana and I. We stayed at a farmhouse last night, and this morning we rode through the woods. We expected to be in the camp this afternoon, but as we were coming to the edge of the forest we heard the cannon and then the rifles. Through three or four dreadful hours, while we shook there in the woods, we listened to a roar and thunder that I would have thought impossible."

"The battle was very fierce and terrible," said Colonel Winchester.

"I don't think it could have been more so. We saw a part of it, but only a confused and awful sweep of smoke and flame. And now, Colonel Winchester, where is my boy, d.i.c.k?"

Colonel Winchester's face turned deadly pale, and she noticed it at once. Her own turned to the same pallor, but she did not shriek or faint.

"You do not know that he is killed?" she said in a low, distinct tone that was appalling to the other.

"I missed him only a little while ago," said Colonel Winchester, "and I've been looking for him. But I'm sure he is not dead. He can't be!"

"No, he can't be! I can't think it!" she said, and she looked at the colonel appealingly.

"If you please, sir," said Pennington, "Lieutenant Warner is missing also. I think we'll find them together. You remember what happened at the Second Mana.s.sas."

"Yes, Frank, I do remember it, and your supposition may be right."

He asked a lantern from one of the men, and whispered to Pennington to come. But Mrs. Mason and Juliana had been standing at strained attention, and Mrs. Mason inferred at once what was about to be done.

"You mean to look for him on the field," she said. "We will go with you."

Colonel Winchester opened his lips to protest, but shut them again in silence.

"It is right that you should come," he said a moment later, "but you will see terrible things."

"I am ready."

She seemed all the more admirable and wonderful to Colonel Winchester, because she did not weep or faint. The deathly pallor on her face remained, but she held herself firmly erect beside the gigantic colored woman.

"Come with me, Pennington," said Colonel Winchester, "and you, too, Sergeant Whitley."

The two men and the boy led the way upon the field, and the two women came close behind. They soon entered upon the area of conflict. The colonel had said that it would be terrible, but Mrs. Mason scarcely dreamed of the reality. It was one vast scene of frightful destruction, of torn and trampled earth and of dead men lying in all directions. The black of her faithful servant's face turned to an ashen gray, and she trembled more than her mistress.

Colonel Winchester had a very clear idea of the line along which his regiment had advanced and retreated, and he followed it. But the lantern did not enable them to see far. As happened so often after the great battles of the Civil War, the signs began to portend rain. The long drouth would be broken, but whether by natural change or so much firing Colonel Winchester did not know. Despite the lateness of the season dim lightning was seen on the horizon. The great heat was broken by a cool wind that began to blow from the northwest.

The five advanced in silence, the two men and the boy still leading and the two women following close behind. Colonel Winchester's heart began to sink yet farther. He had not felt much hope at first, and now he felt scarcely any at all. A few moments later, however, the sergeant suddenly held up his hand.

"What is it?" asked the colonel.

"I think I hear somebody calling."

"Like as not. Plenty of wounded men may be calling in delirium."

"But, colonel, I've been on battlefields before, and this sounds like the voice of some one calling for help."

"Which way do you think it is?"

"To the left and not far off. It's a weak voice."

"We'll turn and follow it. Don't say anything to the others yet."

They curved and walked on, the colonel swinging his lantern from side to side, and now all of them heard the voice distinctly.

"What is that?" exclaimed Mrs. Mason, speaking for the first time since they had come upon the field of conflict.