B00HSFFI1Q EBOK

by Unknown

  “Then I accept. And where is home?”

  “We all came from Charleston although I don’t know how it stands now.”

  “Is that the place you said you had a house?”

  “I did. I bought it a year or so back and I have a man who looks after it for me but I don’t know if it has been taken, destroyed or what.”

  She nodded, eminently practical. “Then we shall take a wagon with some of the nicer things from this house. You shall have a fine home.”

  “And I will escort you there too. It’s the least I can do. Besides there may be people who have not heard that there is no longer a bounty on your head.”

  I glared at Dago as Mary put her hand to her mouth, “A bounty?”

  “Sorry Jack. I blame the port.”

  I explained to her about the threat from O’Callaghan. “But he is dead now. I left him on Cemetery Ridge.” I suddenly remembered the papers I had taken from his dead body. “That reminds me.” I patted my pockets and found the packet. It was slightly wet. I put it on the kitchen table. “I took these from him. I don’t know why.” I began to separate them. There was a handbill, crudely printed with the bounty for Hogan, Murphy and Boswell and any Wildcat. I gave it to Dago and Mary.

  There was a wad of damp Yankee money which I put to one side and there was a letter. I felt a chill as I took the letter from the envelope. I recognised the hand.

  Dear Mick,

  I am sorry to have to write like this to you but I have become afraid of you. You have changed and you are not the man I fell in love with. The death of your cousins and the hate you have for those men in the Wildcats means I cannot live with you.

  I have sold the bar. I have left $100 with Father Dolan. I think that you should have something from our time together but it is over between us.

  I am going to leave here and go to Charleston. I have heard that my brother once live d there. If I can find him then my life might make sense. I once thought that I had that with you but I can see that I was wrong.

  Your friend

  Caitlin

  Mary and Dago looked at me aghast. “What’s up Jack? You look like you have seen a ghost.”

  “I have Dago.” I thrust the letter across the table and they huddled together to read it.

  Mary looked up. “Who’s Caitlin?”

  Dago shook his head, “It’s his sister.”

  Mary put her hand on mine and said to Dago, “But this Mick, wasn’t he the man who was trying to kill Jack?”

  “He was but from the letter I don’t think he knew that Jack was Caitlin’s brother. Caitlin must have been unaware as well.” I was just shell shocked. This was too much information to take in at once. “Well Jack, I think that means we definitely all go to Charleston.”

  The Sergeant Major was summoned before we turned in for the night. “We need a wagon for Miss Malone’s things. We can use the Yankee horses to pull it. Put some guards out. We wouldn’t want to be surprised tonight would we?”

  “No sir, we wouldn’t and congratulations to you and your lady.”

  I threw an irritated look in Dago’s direction as I said, “Thank you.” Dago just shrugged in a good natured fashion.

  I took the money I had collected from O’Callaghan and the deserters and divided it between the men. They tried to refuse but I was in no mood for an argument. It meant each man profited by $40. With the two horses they had I knew that they had done well.

  Mary sat on the wagon and one of the wounded men drove it. I took Cecil and Dago to one side. I want her safe and I want the wounded men safe too. “I want the wounded men and you, Dago, to guard her. We have enough fit men to do what we have to. I will have no arguments in this.”

  Dago laughed, “You’ll get none from me sir. Mary is a sight easier on the eye than the Sergeant Major here.”

  “And no arguments from me either sir.” Irish looked positively happy which was a rarity.

  We left the tragic farm and headed south to complete our service to the Confederacy.

  Chapter 17

  The Road to Charleston

  Sergeant Ritchie took our four best trackers to scout out Williamsport. To my great relief there was no one there to oppose us. The pontoon bridge still stood. I sent Dago with Mary, the wagon and the horses to the safety of the southern bank of the river. No matter what happened I wanted them safe. Dago nodded when I told him to make sure that Mary would be kept out of harm’s way.

  “I want to be with you Jack.”

  “No Mary. I have one last job to do and I cannot be worrying about you. It might get my men and you killed and I couldn’t bear that. When we are married you can order me around all that you like but for the moment I still command here.” I gave a half smile. “You can get to know Copper while you are waiting.”

  The men cheered as they crossed to safety. “A wise move sir.” The Sergeant Major rubbed his hands together. “Now what sir?”

  I pointed at the pontoon bridge. “That is the only way across the river. Our orders are to protect that until the wagons with the wounded arrive. I want this bridgehead fortifying. Get anything you can, wagons, lumber, tables, chairs, anything to build a barricade. I want a wagon putting in the middle so that we can open it for our wounded when the wagons finally arrive. Get Sergeant Jones to organise that. Put a man at the far end of town to let us know of any enemy movements. Get food and water. We may only have to be here for a day or so but at least we can eat and drink. Send Sergeant Ritchie to me.”

  “Yes sir.” He strode off to give his orders. I had thirty troopers; I only hoped that would be enough.

  “Sir?”

  “Right Sergeant Ritchie, we have to make this like a fort. We need to have ammunition and guns ready to hand. Go across the river and ask Lieutenant Spinelli for the spare ammunition and any spare carbines from the wounded.”

  We had brought the weapons of our dead friends and spare ammunition. We might only be thirty men but we would fight like three hundred. I looked out from our little fort. We had a clear killing zone and we had the height advantage. It was the best we could do.

  By late afternoon everything was in place. There was a sentry in the top of the tallest building and we had our fort. Sergeant Jones laughed, “It’s just like the Alamo sir.”

  “I just hope, sergeant, that we don’t end up the same way.”

  Every trooper had his own carbine and two spare ones already loaded. With our pistols loaded and ready we could lay down a heavy rain of lead on any attackers. We saw the sentry signal at dusk. He soon came running towards us, although we already knew he had sighted the enemy. Had he stayed there then it would have been the wagons.

  “Get ready men.”

  Trooper Cooper threw himself over the barricade. “Sir there is a troop of cavalry heading from the direction of Boonsboro.”

  “Well done Cooper. Everyone stay hidden. No one fires until I give the order.”

  We had cleared our line of fire so that no-one had any cover for a hundred yards in any direction. The nearest buildings which overlooked our positions were two hundred yards away. Unless they had sharpshooters we would be safe. I was just grateful that it was cavalry and not infantry or artillery. Our weapons would be equally matched but I was counting on the mettle of my men. They would not let me down.

  The cavalry troop rode in a column of twos. I suspect they had anticipated that the army would still be at Gettysburg. They would be in for a rude surprise. I now had a future wife to fight for. They would not cross the river. I wanted them as close as possible before I fired to create as many casualties as possible. I waited until they were eighty yards from the barricade. I think that the captain leading them was duped by the poor light and did not recognise the barricade for what it was.

  “Fire!”

  Thirty carbines tore into them; hurling men from saddles and throwing horses to the ground. We fired until our guns were empty and then picked up our second weapons.

  “Cease fire!”

 
We could hear the moaning of dying horses and wounded men. The smoke hid all.

  “Sergeant Ritchie, take four men and bring back any guns and ammunition. We will cover you.”

  I was guessing when I issued my orders. I knew that we must have killed the officer, bugler and sergeant. I assumed that any survivors would have panicked and raced back some way to the safety of the buildings. They must have thought that we were battalion strength. In addition there were no longer any shots being fired back at us.

  The five men leapt over the barricade and I peered down my second carbine, looking for danger. As the smoke cleared I saw a few horses standing forlornly next to dead masters and the rest of the ground was a graveyard of dead horses and troopers. When it had cleared completely I saw the survivors gathered at the edge of town. They were disorganised and that pleased me. Sergeant Ritchie and his men brought back guns, ammunition and horses. We wasted nothing.

  “Sergeant Major, any casualties?”

  The cheerful voice sounded back, “Just Yankees sir.” The men all cheered and I felt better inside. This was the first time I had commanded the regiment or what was left of it and it had gone well.

  I watched as the troopers regrouped. Would they attack? There were less than fifty of them remaining and they had no idea of our numbers. All that they saw was a barrier and all that they had experienced was a solid wall of lead which had cut them down. I guessed that they would send for help. When they did not move for a while then I was convinced.

  “Sergeant Major, I want one man in three on watch. Wake the next team in three hours.” I wanted them to be tired and my men to be fresh.

  A short while later Cecil approached me. “I have assigned the men. Will you sleep now or later?”

  “We have four sergeants, you do the watching.”

  “Three sir, Sergeant James was wounded again. I sent him over the river with the other wounded.”

  Poor Carlton, he had no luck. “Well share the duties between the three of you.”

  He seemed relieved and started to walk away. “And you sir?”

  “I will sleep when I need to.” I smiled at him. “You will have to be my mother now Irish; I will soon have a wife to worry about me.”

  He laughed as he walked off and I reloaded my gun. I had no intention of sleeping. My future depended upon my defence of this pontoon bridge; what was one night without sleep? In the end I did catch an hour or so of sleep although I tried not to. Sergeant Jones shook my shoulder and held a mug of coffee for me.

  “Where the hell did you get coffee?”

  “Mistress Malone brought it from the farm and she told me to make a pot.” He nodded sagely. “She’s a keeper sir.”

  I drank the hot steaming mug gratefully. I expected that General Imboden would arrive some time in the morning. We had just a few hours to hold on. Trooper Dawson brought round the ham sandwiches soon after the coffee. I had found a full stomach made a man fight well.

  I heard a cavalry bugle sound ‘Boots and Saddles’. The Union cavalry were coming. “Stand to!”

  The men went to their allotted positions calmly. These men had fought with me for two years. There would be no panic, no matter what the Yankees threw at us. I issued no unnecessary orders. They would have all reloaded and checked their weapons; no one would need to pee and they would obey every order calmly. They were my men.

  This time it was not a troop, it was a brigade. This time it was not a captain in a brand new uniform, this was an experienced Brigadier General and he halted at the end of the street to assess the situation.

  “Just like yesterday, wait for your orders before you fire.” Even as I said it I knew I had not needed to but I felt I ought to command. Sergeant Major Mulrooney appeared at my shoulder. “Tell me Cecil what will you do when we are discharged?”

  He looked appalled. “I have no idea sir. Boswell’s Wildcats gave me purpose in life sir. The 1st Virginia Scouts made me more important than anyone I had ever known. I just don’t know.”

  “There is more in you than you realise. You have the most gifted hands of anyone I have ever met. You could make guns or machines. Anyone can kill but only a few have the gift to make or repair something.”

  He looked at me as though I had said the most profound statement ever. “Thank you sir. I will think on that.” He cocked his carbine, “Of course that is after I have escorted you and your good lady to Charleston. When we reach your house then my job will be done.”

  Whoever was in charge of the cavalry had a wise head on his shoulders. He dismounted two troops of his cavalry and they began to sprint across the open ground. He had them fanned out to make it harder for us to hit them. I saw him looking through glasses, at us. He was counting our guns. Soon he would know how few we were.

  “Fire when you are sure that you can hit something.” I aimed at a sergeant in the middle who was approaching carefully whilst watching his troopers. He was a veteran and he knew what he was doing. My shot struck him in the upper thigh and he went down on one knee. I moved my carbine an inch and fired at the trooper who stood and looked down at the wounded sergeant the force of the impact of my shot threw him around and he lay writhing on the ground.

  All of my men were firing. This was not the continuous fire of the previous night. This was a measured attack. Gradually their numbers thinned. They knelt and began to fire at us.

  I heard Cecil yell, “Fire and move!”

  The enemy would fire at where we had been. By constantly moving we minimised the risk to ourselves. The smoke from their guns partly obscured them but their shapes were still visible and men fell. I heard the retreat sounded and shouted, “Cease fire.” I wanted our ammunition conserving.

  The troopers carried back their wounded although there were still six bodies left littering the street. There was a hiatus as the gaggle of officers discussed their options. “Anyone hit Sergeant Major?”

  “Smith had his cheek nicked sir but other than that we are in good shape.”

  “Make sure you drink plenty, men. This will get hotter than hell soon.”

  I was proving to be a prophet for the Brigadier General sent in a whole regiment and they ran hard at us. They were trying to overwhelm us. I think he had worked out how few we were.

  “Fire at will!”

  There was no point in moving our positions for they were not firing. It was an old fashioned charge and I was reminded of those veterans of Pickett who had charged up Cemetery Ridge. Sadly we did not have the numbers to do the same to the blue coated cavalrymen. I kept firing until my gun was empty and I picked up my second. Our front was wreathed in smoke. I heard the screams and yells as men fell before our barricade. When my second carbine was empty I drew my Colt. A rifle and a face appeared below me and I blew both away. I drew my sword and held it in my left hand.

  Another rifle with a nasty looking bayonet was levelled at me and I ducked just as it fired. I stood and shot the man who had just tried to kill me. A corporal was clambering towards me and I slashed at him with my sabre; it sliced across his face and he fell screaming to the bottom of the barricade.

  Once more we heard the retreat sounded. “Keep firing!”

  I stood on the top and fired at the fleeing men. When my gun was empty I stared at the scene. Below me was a pile of bodies. The Union cavalry had not lacked courage but our fort had held.

  “Sergeant Major, take the roll.”

  As the smoke cleared I saw the survivors stumbling down the street. The officers disappeared. We would have a respite for a short time.

  “Sir?”

  I turned to a grim faced Sergeant Major. “Yes Cecil?”

  “We lost Sergeant Jones and ten troopers. Another five are wounded.”

  I nodded. “Can they still fight?”

  “Not well sir.”

  “Then get them across the bridge. I think the next attack will finish us. I want as many of our men to survive as possible. Keep their weapons.”

  “Yes sir.” He paused. “We aren
’t finished yet. Not while Lucky Jack still stands.”

  Their belief in my invincibility was terrifying. I reloaded all my weapons and took a long drink of warm stale water. It tasted like nectar.

  The wounded men gathered just behind the barricade. “Captain Hogan, we can still fight.”

  I waved at them. “I know but if you stay here then the others will worry about you. We will all fight harder knowing that you are safe on the other side of the river and, if we fall, then it will be your job to hold them on the other bank.”

  They cheered and waved as they trudged across the pontoon bridge. It shifted and moved alarmingly but it was our only lifeline to home.

  We were afforded a respite. It wasn’t until eleven that we heard movements. Cecil brought over some stale bread and ham. He pointed as he chewed. “More cavalry sir?”

  I shook my head, “I reckon either infantry or,” the ugly shape of a horse cannon appeared at the end of the street, “artillery! Get the men down from the top of the barricade. They will blast at us first and then charge.”

  “Everyone down!”

  I stayed at the top while I watched them load the gun. It was not a large gun but it didn’t have to be. At four hundred yards it was almost point blank range. I saw that they were not loading ball but canister. That was a relief. They hoped to sweep us from the top before they assaulted. When I saw the gun captain raise his arm I dived to the bottom of the barricade and covered my ears with my hands.

  There was a wall of flame which lit the sky and then a crack like lightning. Finally there was a whistling as the small, deadly balls scythed across the top of the barricade. I hurriedly climbed to the top. Were they attacking? I saw that they were reloading. The Brigadier General wanted us dead. This time I didn’t wait for the signal but found a place at the bottom of the barricade which had a couple of iron bars and a barrel. I hunkered down in as small a ball as possible. This time there was a shout as the balls whipped into the wooden wall. They had lowered their aim. Someone had been struck.

  I heard a cheer. They were attacking again. “Back to the barricades!”