Dark Chaos

by Ginny Dye

  A shot rang out in the still morning. Men bolted from the ground. Robert stiffened then continued sipping his coffee. It was too early for an engagement. The sun was barely creeping onto the horizon.

  “You reckon it’s gonna start now, Captain?”

  Robert smiled briefly. “I don’t think so, Crocker.” The intense lad in front of him reminded him of Hobbs, the youth who had helped save his life at Antietam. Hobbs’ unrelenting search for Robert after the battle had left Hobbs behind the battle lines too long and resulted in one of Hobbs’ legs being several inches shorter than the other. Carrie and Dr. Wild had been able to save his life, but the necessary crutches had ended his fighting days. Lucky kid, he thought grimly.

  “You reckon it’s coming today, Captain?” Crocker persisted. “How come Hooker ain’t blasting us with all those men he’s got?”

  “That’s a good question,” Robert replied, taking another long sip of coffee. “All any of us can do is speculate. From all the reports I hear, Hooker almost had his men in the position where they could do us the most harm. They met a small line of our defenders, and instead of ordering their destruction, Hooker pulled his units back.” Robert shook his head.

  “I reckon he knows our reputation,” Crocker boasted proudly. “I guess we’ll smash right through their lines this morning.” His eyes gleamed with the light of battle.

  Robert said nothing, but he seriously hoped that wasn’t Lee’s plan. Whether Hooker was playing games with them or was genuinely nervous, Lee’s army simply wasn’t strong enough to smash into a force twice as strong as their own. Robert felt himself tighten at the picture of how many men would die. As usual he would simply wait for orders. The lives of almost 200,000 men - both North and South - hung on the decisions of their commanding generals.

  “Get some food,” Robert finally muttered. “It’s going to be a long day.” Crocker nodded and strode away. Robert ambled over to the fire, filled another cup with strong coffee, and walked away to stare at the woods looming in the distance. Why had Hooker moved his men back? The Federals had come close to securing the open farm land that would have afforded them the maneuvering they would need. Instead, they had been pulled back into what was known as the wilderness, almost fifteen miles of dense, gloomy second-growth forest full of irregular ravines and low hills. No one in his right mind would choose to stage a battle there.

  “Captain Borden, sir,” a voice snapped behind him.

  Robert spun around to face the messenger addressing him. “What is it?” he asked sharply, sensing that whatever would happen was about to begin.

  “Pull your unit together and prepare to march.”

  Robert listened in almost wry amusement as the messenger outlined the plan. Lee was sending over half of his available troops with Jackson to swing around to the right of Hooker’s army. Reconnaissance had revealed the weakness of the Federal right end, and Lee was out to exploit and crush it. Robert knew Lee’s decision was the riskiest of all the risky decisions he had made thus far. He also knew the general was counting on Hooker’s cautiousness. If the Federals refused to act their part, if they got wind of Lee’s attempt, there could be 70,000 men sweeping down on the approximately 14,000 men Lee was leaving to face them. It was a brazen move - even for the daring Lee.

  Within the hour, a long line of infantry began its march across the country. Speed was what mattered now. Robert, from astride Carrie’s massive Thoroughbred - Granite, stared out over the men marching south. Would their evasive movement make Hooker think they were retreating? Granite strode forward eagerly, his beautiful head tossing proudly.

  Robert allowed his thoughts to turn to Carrie as the sun greeted the morning and dissolved the mist and evaporated the dew. Their night together had been all he could have imagined, but the agony of having her for just one night, only to be wrenched apart again, tore at his heart. Almost, it would have been better never to have experienced her sweet closeness. “Don’t be a fool,” he muttered angrily. If he were to die in battle today, at least he had had that one night with her.

  It was three o’clock when Jackson and the marching troops reached their destination. Order and relative calm reigned as the men occupied their positions. Robert could only hope that Hooker’s right line still resolutely faced south, completely unaware that an army was poised to strike from the west and northwest. The afternoon was quiet, the absence of gunfire indicating their ruse was working. Robert leaned back against the towering oak stationed behind him. He knew the order to advance would come soon.

  Every nerve taut, Moses paced back and forth between the cook fires. The last few days had stretched each nerve till it felt they must surely snap. He watched as his men stacked their arms and prepared supper. Everything in him screamed danger was imminent, but nothing on the surface validated his fears.

  They had heard the sound of skirmishing in the distance all day, but the long awaited battle had not happened. There had been no action on the right wing held by Major General Howard with his company of German soldiers - just another day of endless watching and waiting.

  Captain Jones strode up to where Moses was standing and staring hard into the distance. “Do you feel as uneasy as I do?” he muttered.

  “Yes, sir,” Moses replied, glad someone else felt not all was right. “My eyes tell me nothing is happening. My gut tells me something is getting ready to.”

  Captain Jones nodded briefly. “It wouldn’t be the first time Lee has pulled something. I would feel a lot better if Stonewall Jackson wasn’t out there somewhere. He has the uncanny ability to appear in places you never would suspect him to.” He turned around to stare at the men settling down to eat, their rifles stacked nearby. “I have half a mind to tell them to be ready for something, but then I tell myself I’m being foolish. There is no way Jackson could swing his way around here without being seen at some point.”

  “I sure wish I was a bird,” Moses stated. “I’d like to take a look at what’s going on beyond all these trees. I can’t help feeling trapped down here.”

  Captain Jones scowled. “I still can’t believe Hooker pulled the troops back from the open plain. From what I can tell, it would have taken very little to press forward and push the Rebel troops into retreat. Being stuck down here in these woods feels just like being in a cage.”

  “It’s hard to figure the last few days after how confident General Hooker sounded the other night,” Moses said, trying to sound casual. He didn’t want to sound like he was criticizing his commanding office.

  “It’s lunacy!” Captain Jones snorted. “Hooker gave up the fight before it even started. Now we’re just sitting here waiting for something to happen. We should have been the ones on the offensive. We could have been in Richmond by now,” he said angrily. “Your men could have been marching through the city where many of them used to be slaves.”

  “It can still happen,” Moses offered hopefully even though his heart wasn’t in it. He knew nothing of battle strategy. He just knew he wasn’t feeling good about things right now. When Captain Jones didn’t reply, Moses broke off his scrutiny of the surroundings. The captain had his head tilted back, scanning the trees towering above them.

  “If someone could get up in one of those trees, we might have some idea of what’s going on,” Captain Jones said slowly.

  Moses grinned, relieved to have some kind of action. “Jacob! Caesar! Get over here,” he called, then swung back to stare up at the trees surrounding them. “I reckon one of these three will give us the view we need, Captain.” Two men appeared by his side. Moses barked out his orders quickly. “Jacob, take that tree right there. Caesar, you take that other oak. The man who gets the highest the quickest gets extra rations tonight.” He smiled at the staring men. “Pretend you’re birds, men. That’s the only way we’re going to know what’s going on around here.” Spinning around, Moses himself swung up into the nearest tree and began to climb.

  Moses saw Jacob and Caesar swing into action; then he focused on the t
ree and searched for the quickest, surest way to make the ascent. For just a moment, Moses forgot there was a war going on. He was a little boy again, climbing trees with reckless abandon, finding freedom in the heights that took him above reality. His powerful arms pulled him from branch to branch almost effortlessly. Soon though, he was moving more carefully. The branches were smaller, less likely to bear his weight, and still he wasn’t high enough to see beyond the woods. Setting his lips, he continued to climb.

  When he looked down again, it was impossible to spot anything or anyone through the thick canopy of leaves spreading out below him. He could just barely see Jacob and Caesar threading their way through the trees nearby. As he climbed, the reality of the risk he was taking filtered through. Soon he would be an easy target for any Rebel sharpshooters in the area, and there was always the possibility of a fall from what would be over one hundred feet in the air. Either scenario meant certain death.

  Moses breathed a sigh of relief when his head broke above the surrounding trees. Exhilaration filled him as the afternoon sun bathed his face and a cool breeze flowed over his sweating body. Squinting his eyes, he stared south. Nothing.

  “I don’t reckon I ever been this high,” Jacob called, a smile spreading across his face.

  “Yeah,” Caesar yelled in return. “Kinda feels like we be on top of the world.”

  Moses was smiling when he turned to look north. Suddenly he stiffened as his blood ran cold. “Oh, my God,” he said in a strangled voice. Wave upon wave of muskets gleamed in the distant woods.

  “Moses,” Caesar called. “What are we looking for...?” his voice trailed off as he turned in the direction Moses was facing.

  Moses snapped into action. “Let’s get out of here,” he called sharply. “We’re nothing but sitting ducks!” He began to scale down the tree as fast as he could, leaning over to yell down to the captain. “There’s Rebels to the ...”

  His words were swallowed when the boom of musketry exploded from the woods behind them.

  Robert was at the front of the long line when Jackson ordered the charge. The air reverberated with the Rebel yell as the solid mass of gray swept from the woods, their muskets firing. It was obvious their flanking movement had been a success. Men were lounging in the clearing eating, their rifles set aside. Robert and his men were on them before they could form for a defense.

  All around him the yells of triumphant men rang through the air as Federals turned and ran for their lives. “After them!” Robert yelled, dashing into the timber and stumbling through the dense undergrowth.

  Jackson’s men continued to surge forward and triggered a full scale rout of Hooker’s right flank.

  Moses had barely touched the ground before the first of Howard’s men stumbled into the clearing.

  “The Rebels are after us!” one cried.

  “Jackson is upon us!” another yelled. “Run for your lives.”

  Captain Jones sprang onto his horse and held his bayonet high. “Hold your ground, men!”

  Moses stared around him in amazement as men, their uniforms in tatters from the thick undergrowth, lurched into the clearing. Cattle and mules, swept along with the men, ran blindly, terrified by the shooting. One cow, eyes wide with panic, ran straight through a cook fire, almost trampling the men caught by surprise.

  “Gather your unit, Moses!” Captain Jones called. “We have to stop them.”

  Moses sprang into action. It took only minutes for his men to grab their guns and form a line across the woods behind them. Moments later the forest exploded with gray uniforms and the flash of musket fire. Moses took a deep breath, aimed, and fired. All around him, his men stood their ground. The Rebels continued to surge forward, their guns firing continuously. Men began to scream and fall around him.

  “Retreat!” Captain Jones yelled. “Retreat!”

  The remainder of Moses’ men, spurred by the panicked flight of the rest of Captain’s Jones men, squared off for one final round, then turned and sprinted into the woods. Moses was right behind them. Part of him yearned to stay and fight. The other part of him knew it was useless suicide. Jackson had turned the tables on them.

  They fled through the woods for over a mile before two mounted officers, defiantly waving bayonets, swept down on them. General Hooker was right behind them. “Forward!” he cried. “Forward!” Hooker’s band of men cleaved the multitude of men sweeping toward them as they advanced toward the enemy.

  Moses jarred to a halt, his hope renewed. A quick glance told him his men had stopped and now stared at him for direction. His determination steeled as he realized they were counting on him. “Forward!” he yelled. “Follow that unit! Forward!”

  With a yell, his men reversed the direction of their flight, grabbed their rifles tighter, and ran back toward the fighting. Artillery began to explode around them as the rout was slowed and then reversed. Moses fought through the same woods he had fled from just moments before; then he took his position with the other men. He raised his rifle and began to fire steadily.

  Robert fell to the right with his men as the Federals turned and offered fierce resistance.

  A colonel appeared, his cry ringing through the afternoon air. “There is artillery to the right. Forward! Now is our chance to take it.”

  Robert and his men were advancing on the clearing full of abandoned artillery and littered with fleeing Union soldiers when other Confederate units reached the woods surrounding it and prepared to surge forward. Robert called his men to a halt and took up position on the far edge of the clearing. At that same moment, a wave of Federal cavalry swept from the opposite grove. There was a slight hesitation; then with a loud cry, they charged furiously at the advancing Rebels.

  Robert stared at what was a certain charge to death. Hundreds of rebel muskets fired in unison, dropping Federal cavalrymen like dead flies. The leader of the charge was one of the first to fall, his arms flying up before he sagged lifeless from his saddle. Robert felt the bile rise in his throat at the sight of so much senseless death. No matter that it was causing the enemy to fall back - it still sickened him to see so much human life wasted.

  The men surrounding him cheered as the Federal forces broke and retreated, their numbers severely decimated. Robert swung his attention back to the clearing and waited for the order to charge again. The Federals had not been idle during the futile cavalry charge. The ground around the artillery had been cleared of stragglers and vehicles; now the artillery faced the thick woods. Robert opened his mouth to yell his horror of what he knew was coming...

  “Forward!”

  At their commander’s order, the units already filling the woods poured forth in pursuit of final Confederate victory. A volley of musketry fire dimmed their savage yell as they surged forward. The Federal cannoneers stood their ground until with one mighty roar the line of artillery detonated, the explosion shaking the ground and obliterating all sound but its own.

  Robert wept even before the smoke rose on the suddenly silent scene. Without looking, he knew what he would see. The men around him stared in shocked silence, their faces white with agony. Robert finally raised his eyes. Nothing stood in the clearing. Every single man who had rushed from the woods lay where he had fallen. Decimated bodies littered the earth.

  Moses couldn’t take his eyes from the scene of carnage in front of him. Dimly he became aware that the Confederate advance had been halted by the lightening stroke of the artillery attack. “Poor beggars,” he muttered thickly, his loathing of battle intensified.

  Pompey appeared by his side, his sweaty face streaked with soot and powder. “I reckon them boys died fer dere flag, Moses.”

  “I reckon they did, Pompey. I reckon they did,” Moses said heavily.

  “You think it be over?” Pompey asked.

  Moses stared out at the scene. Every particle of his being longed for this battle to be over, but his heart told him it wasn’t so. He shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid there’ll be more dying.” His eyes scanned th
e clearing. “It’s not over yet.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rose stepped out onto her tiny porch, shielded her eyes against the morning sun, and stared east. She had heard the reports of Hooker crossing the Rappahannock. Somewhere beyond the open fields and dense forests, Moses was fighting a battle.

  “Don’t you wish you could see right over them trees?”

  Rose smiled slightly as June, Moses’ sister, appeared at her side. “I do indeed. And by the way, it’s those trees.”

  June grimaced. “It’s hard enough to learn how to speak correctly without having to think about it when I’m worried.”

  Rose reached out and put her hand on June’s arm. “I’m sorry. It’s just automatic to me. I wasn’t even thinking. I guess the teacher in me can’t be pushed down even when I’m sick with worry over my husband.”

  “Moses will be just fine,” June said stoutly. “God’s done kept him safe this far. I reckon he’ll keep on.”

  Knowing June was trying to make her feel better, Rose said nothing. Most of the time it worked. She knew she had to trust God with her husband’s life. It was easier during the day when she was busy teaching and helping the refuge slaves who were still flooding into the contraband camp and filling the place to capacity. There was precious little time to think of herself. “It’s the nights that are so hard,” she finally murmured softly. Her sleep had been disturbed by horrible dreams that would jar her awake and send her out onto the porch. Images of Moses sprawled dead on the battlefield would dim as the morning light chased away the darkness.

  “You look awful tired,” June said solicitously.