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CHAPTER VIII. THE ARMY IN WINTER QUARTERS.
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INTER so {103}far had brought them much suffering and privation.To Ralph it was peculiarly dreary. With the prospect of a period ofinactivity, it was strange that so little provision was made to protectthem from the cold, raw winds that were so frequent. Many of thesoldiers put up rude huts, made from the fine timber which grewso plentiful in that region, and those who were independent andenterprising enough to build for themselves, often fashioned a verysnug, cozy little house. The rough stone fireplace, put together withVirginia mud, was never wanting. What though it was neither symmetricalnor artistic? The warmth and cheer compensated for the absence of boththese features.
In some of these huts--they surely deserved a better title--the menthrew themselves down at night on the ground, which was covered withblankets, rubber coats, and any material the jovial occupants could findto keep out the dampness. Some, more pretentious, constructed bunks orboxes round the sides, which were as comfortable as a spring bed wouldbe at home. It was quite common to find home-made chairs, benches andtables, round which they gathered when off duty, and told stories ordiscussed the situation. The walls were papered with illustrations cutfrom newspapers, which added to the charms of the dwelling.
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But the greater number shivered under canvas tents, feeling keenly thelight snows and rains, followed by days of thaw and sunshine, which wereso frequent. To add to the dreariness of their surroundings, the funeraldirge was often heard, as the dead were carried out from hospital, whohad succumbed to that apparently {105}simple disease, the measles, butwhich leaves its victim feeble, exhausted, and unable to rally.
To a new recruit, or to one who is full of sensibility, as Ralph was,these sights were particularly depressing.
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A snowstorm during the day had been succeeded by a windy, cold night.Ralph had been writing to his mother, and while he took care tomake every word as cheerful as he could, and never to mention hisdiscomforts, vet the mother heart between the lines, and knew her boywas homesick, pining for her, as she, alas! was longing for the lovingcaress and the sound of his voice.
As he pushed back the stool which had answered for a writing desk, thewind gave a sudden whirl and lifted the canvas, sending a shower ofsleet over him which made him shiver.
"The winter here is full as cold and disagreeable as up North!" he said."I thought this was a land of perpetual sunshine and flowers!"
He {106}peered out at the sentry, who hugged his great coat closer, ashe paced to and fro. He fancied he saw in the gloom a man and horse, andheard the sharp challenge--
"Halt! Who goes there?"
The horseman drew up, and replied promptly--
"A messenger from General Shields, with dispatches for Colonel Hopkins.I must deliver them at once."
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The sentinel called--"Sergeant of the guard--post number five--a messagefrom headquarters!"
The words were passed along the line of guards, until it reached thesergeant, who came instantly.
He carried the papers to his colonel, who read them hastily, and signedeach one, handing them back to the orderly, who rode swiftly away.
Ralph was by this time outside his tent, unmindful of the sleet{107}which tore his flesh like sharp-pointed arrows. He longed toknow what those dispatches signified, but his curiosity had to remainunsatisfied, and he went back to his tent to try to sleep, as well as hecould, for the biting wind that forced its way into every crevice.
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He seated himself on the side of his bed, and tried to think. Hewondered when General McClellan was going to take Richmond. The cry "AllQuiet on the Potomac" was heard continually, and weary men and weepingwomen all over the land were longing for the dawn of peace which shouldbring back to them fathers, husbands and sons. But ah, that peace wasfar distant. The boy reasoned that he had no right to criticise the menwho held trusted positions in the army. But surely the boys in campand field were doing all they could, under orders, to hasten the end ofthese troublous times. Would the conflict ever cease?
Perplexed {108}and worn out in trying to solve the problem agitating somany of the most patriotic and the most far-seeing, all over the land,Ralph at last fell asleep, to be roused by the reveille. He sprangup, sure that he must be dreaming, for he had just been sleeping but amoment--a mere "cat nap," and this couldn't be a summons to leave hiscomfortable bed. He had neither time nor right to object, however; hissole duty was to obey orders, and he hastened to dress. Outside, thesoldiers were hurrying about, most of those who were called on glad ofany break in the monotony of their first winter in camp.
"Breakfast at two, march at half-past," was the captain's peremptoryorder.
"What an unearthly hour," was Ralph's comment. "Where, are we bound? Andwhy march at night?"
"Can't say," a comrade ventured, "unless it's so we won't have to marchby day!"
They were not long in suspense.
A portion of their regiment was ordered to assist a force of Ohio andIndiana men under Colonel Dunning, in routing a body of Confederates whowere posted near Romney, Va., at a point called Blue Gap.
The wind had died away, the stars were out, and the moon shonebrilliantly. The cutting sleet had turned to snow, and the soft carpetlay white and pure, muffling the sound of their footsteps. It was aweird sight--that mass of men tramping along with steady steps,while their shadows falling on the ground danced and flickered in themoonbeams with startling vividness.
Blue Gap was a natural opening between hills, and was well defended byhowitzers and rifle pits. As they approached the Gap, Ralph's keeneye detected a dozen men piling up limbs, straw, and other inflammablematerial, against the bridge that spanned a stream running through theGap.
"Captain," he said, "some of those fellows have left the lines, and arefixing things nice to burn that bridge."
"We'll block that game, instanter. We need that bridge more than theydo."
A {109}dash was made for the bridge, led by the captain, who opened fireupon them, and thus ended that attempt. On the hills the entrenchmentswere held manfully, but the Confederates had scarce time to pour forththeir fire, before the two Ohio regiments dashed upon them, and capturedtwo pieces of artillery. The surprise was so complete and the attack sooverwhelming, that defense was vain.
The hills were swarming with Federals, fighting hand to hand, andforcing their opponents back. The houses on the other shore were filledwith sharpshooters, whose constant firing harassed the Federals, andbrought down a soldier at nearly every shot.
A score of men sprang into a large boat lying at the bank, and with astorm of bullets hissing and rattling about them, they crossed to theshore where the sharpshooters were hidden. Death menaced them, but witha huzza that would have put life into a stone, they rowed fast, andsprang out of the boat. Dashing up the hill, to the houses which theenemy had used for vantage ground, they found them vacated.
"They didn't wait to make our acquaintance," Ralph said.
"No, but those sharpshooters introduced themselves to us in fine style.Why, a man went down at nearly every shot."
Bill said not a word, but leaned heavily over the side of the boat. Noone paid him attention, for their hearts were filled with a longing forrevenge.
"Boys, we have missed the rebs ensconced in these houses, but we canprevent their using them again. We will burn them to the ground, andtake good care that not a timber stands, after we have done with them.They have picked off some of our best men, and we won't leave a roof toshelter them."
A dozen pairs of willing hands were at work in an instant gathering woodand brush, which they piled around the dwellings. With faces grimy andsoiled, these resolute men touched the pile with a match, while theystood ready to shoot the first man who dared to show himself to protest,and soon the flames leaped upward, crackling, sputtering and curlinground doors no and {110}windows, licking up every obje
ct within reach,till naught but the charred and blackened timbers stood to mark the spotwhere the sharpshooters had dealt their deadly work.
The skirmish was brief. It was an easy victory, and no loss had beensustained by the Federals, save those who were shot in the boats. Butthe Confederate loss was greater. Forty soldiers were lying dead in thegrass and weeds, and as many more were carried back to camp, prisoners.
Even while the houses were being consumed, Ralph went back to assistthose who had received the bullets of the sharpshooters. Some had fallenoverboard, and sunk in the stream. Others were lying as they had fallen,their cold hands still grasping their weapons, which they would neveruse again. One poor fellow was kneeling in the bottom of the boat, hisfinger on the trigger of his musket, and his staring eyes fixed on theshore. Ralph shuddered. Could he ever become inured to these dreadfulsights?
Bill Elliott was leaning over the side of the boat, in a half-stupor. Thewound in his head had opened afresh, and the red stream was running downhis face, staining its ghastly whiteness crimson. His arm hung uselessby his side, shattered by a bullet. Opening his eyes at the sound ofRalph's voice, he whispered faintly: "I thought you'd come arter me.They've fixed me this time, sure," and he relapsed into unconsciousness.
A litter was soon hurried together, and Old Bill was placed in hospital.
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CHAPTER IX. FAIR OAKS.
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HE Johnnies {111}are busy these times, aren't they?' "And so are we,chasing them up. I don't see that we are any nearer Richmond than wewere a month or so ago."
"Nor we won't be," broke in another man, "if General McClellan repeatshis Yorktown tactics. Perhaps, by the time we get to Richmond, we'llfind some 'Quaker guns' there."
"It must have been kind of disheartening to the boys after lying 'rounda place a month to have the rebs move out just as they were gettingready to go in, and find they had left a lot of wooden guns behind."
All the next day the soldiers were working on the redoubts, and whollyunaware of the surprise in store for them. May 31st dawned, and whilethey were still fortifying their position, a tremor ran through theline. "The Confederates are upon us!" was the cry, and as they tossedaside the shovels, the Confederates charged upon them with theirwell-known "yell" that so often echoed and re-echoed on thebattle-field.
But they found brave men ready to repel their assault. The Chickahominyhad swollen to such a height that bridges were carried away in its madrush. General McClellan had thrown the left wing of his forces acrossthe stream, but it was impossible to get reinforcements to their help.
Both sides showed unexampled bravery. General Johnston moved on towardRichmond, six miles away, where he halted, for the purpose of strikingthe detached wing of the Union forces. The rise of the river hadhampered the movements of the latter, and it seemed as if capture wascertain.
The half-finished redoubts had been occupied by General Casey's{112}division of Keys' corps, and although they rallied several times,it was in vain. The rebels, made a detour, and stole upon their rear,and they could no longer hold them. Their line was in danger.
Meanwhile General Johnston's evident intention was to bring up a heavyflanking force between General Casey and the river whose banks had risenso unluckily for the Federals, cutting off all hopes of reinforcements.
And now a magnificent exhibition of courage was shown by Sumner. Heexpected orders to go to the rescue, and his men were drawn up in lineready for the summons. One bridge alone remained with which to cross theriver, and its approaches were under water. Some of its supports weregone, and as the soldiers stepped upon it, the frail structure swayedto and fro, mid the rushing waters, but they passed over as speedily andsafely as though it were a solid piece of masonry.
General Sumner's appearance was most opportune. He met the flank attack,and was victorious. The slaughter was fearful. In this battle 12,000 mengave up their lives--5,000 Northern men, and 7,000 Southern.
General Johnston fell, a Federal shot having taken effect. He wascarried off the field, and at first it was feared by the Confederatesthat his wound was mortal, but after some months of suffering andenforced retirement he recovered, and a year after assumed command ofthe Confederate forces of the Mississippi.
Ralph was sent with one of the details to bury the dead and bring in thewounded. Trenches were dug, and the dead piled in them. Many were leftwhere the last shot had struck them down, and earth was heapedupon them. The ground was literally blood-soaked. The dead wereeverywhere--the battle-field was one vast graveyard, with its tenantsleft unburied.
Ralph entered a little log house in a pasture near the railroad, andseated himself on a bench for a moment's rest. Just outside the door,he found the dead and the wounded packed so close that he could scarcelyavoid stepping on them. To distinguish {113}them was a hard task, forthe wounded lay there so quiet and motionless, fast in that silentresignation born of despair, that, save for the dull blackness thatcovered the faces of those from whom life had fled, it would be easy tomistake the living for the dead.
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All sorts and ages were there, in one mass--the boy, who had gone fromhome, ardent and hopeful, the old man who had left the record of anhonorable life behind him; officers who had cheered their commands on tovictory, privates who had fought fearlessly--all lay there, while horseshad fallen dead across their riders, or were struggling in agony. Thepicture was horrible! He was r e minded of h is duty by the voice of anold man, who came into the room where he was musing.
"This is a cruel war, sir!" he said to Ralph. "I've been raised here,man and boy, nigh onto seventy years, and I never thought, when I playedin these fields, that I should ever live to see them desecrated withhuman blood."
Ralph {114}raised his head, and looked at him earnestly.
"No," the old man continued, "I have looked for the coming of the Lord'these many years, but I never thought He would come in blood and smoke,and the noise of battle."
"What do you mean?" the boy asked, breathlessly. "How has the Lordcome?"
"Has He not come to set human beings free? Is not the black man'sbondage nearly over? Is not slavery doomed? Then the only blot upon thefair name of America will be wiped out. The North and South will becomebrothers again, and go hand in hand in all worthy undertakings. Thus, asone family again, they will march on, to a grand and glorious destiny."
"If my mother could hear him talk!" his listener thought. "What does hemean by the blacks being set free?" For the Proclamation of Emancipationhad not yet been given to the world, and the position of the slavesduring hostilities had not been settled.
"Are you a Northerner?" he asked the old man.
"No, I am a Southerner," with a tinge of pride in his tones. "How do youdare say such things?".
"I am an old man, and they call me childish and silly. But I love mycountry, and I want to see her truly great."
"Have you always talked in this way?" queried Ralph, puzzled at the oldman's language and manners.
"Always. Oh, I have paid dearly for my opinions. I have had my housetorn down over my head, I have suffered in my young days; but I havelost all I ever loved, and they pity me now. I know I shall live to seemy prayer answered--that we may become a free and united country. Then Ishall be ready to die. Yes, it comes to that with old and young. We mustall be ready to die at any moment."
With a courteous nod to Ralph, he passed out of the door, and the boywas left alone.
"We must be ready to die at any moment!" The words sounded like a knellto Ralph. Was _he_ ready to die? He had, been carefully nurtured by thatblessing to a child, a praying mother, {115}and his boyish days werespent in the Sabbath school. Like all in the springtime of life, deathseemed afar off, something that would not approach him for many years.Death was the expected portion of the old, but he had always resolutelyput aside all thoughts of a future that did not belong to this life.
Now these words came home like a shock. Was he ready? He had never beena bad boy, in any sense, but
still he was not ready or willing to die.At that possibility his courage forsook him; memory went swiftly back tomany a childish piece of wrong-doing, which, under the fear of death,he magnified into black and unpardonable sins. Filled with sorrow andrepentance he fell on his knees on the hard floor of that little cabin,with the dead so near him, and cried--"Help, O Lord, or I perish!"
A wave of tender feeling swept over his soul, and his mother's favoritepsalm, the 118th which she had read to him so often, came to hisremembrance, and one verse was as music to him,--"The Lord is on myside; I will not fear. What can man do unto me?" He rose to his feet,refreshed and made strong.
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CHAPTER X. CAMP FUN.
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HAT time {116}should not hang heavy on their hands, much inventivegenius was brought into play, and no schoolboys, famous for theirability in making up games, could equal these grown men in originatingsports to fill in the hours that otherwise would have been exceedinglydull. Some such safety-valve was necessary, or else many would havebroken down with memories of the dear ones at home, and the depressingsights of war, and its hardships.
The camp echoed often with the songs so dear to all who can be moved bytender thoughts. Many of the men were the possessors of rich, melodiousvoices, that brought many a thrill of delight to their listeners, intheir tones.
Ralph had a fine voice, and to please his comrades he often sang thesweet old songs of childhood, while they listened with an enthusiasmand rounds of applause that many a prima donna could not have inspired.Throwing themselves around the blazing camp fire whose ruddy sparks flewheavenward, the whole company would join him in singing the melodieswith hearty goodwill, and at those moments care and danger wereforgotten. Now he would give them a plaintive, gentle ditty that wouldmake the eyes of those brown-faced soldiers moist with emotion, as homepictures started into life before them, and then a stirring song ofpatriotism and victory would ring out, until the blood would leapin their veins, and each man there was ready to attack any foesingle-handed.