by Unknown
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!”
I leapt to the top. The dismounted cavalry were racing across the open ground. Most of the top half of the barricade was wrecked; we had lost some of our cover. To my dismay I saw blood soaked grey uniforms marking the place where my men had died. It was frustrating to think that my future happiness lay across the river and I would die here following my orders. The last of the Wildcats would perish in Union Maryland.
“Open fire!”
There were fewer of us but we fought like twice our number. They had launched a full attack with a regiment and our barrier was gone. We would die like the men at the Alamo. I picked up my second carbine and fired at the advancing men. They were falling like wheat to a scythe but the gaps were filled by other troopers eager to get at us. They were less than one hundred yards away when I drew my Colt and my sword.
“Come on you Yankee bastards! Jack Hogan and the Wildcats stand here yet!” I gave the rebel yell and heard my men echo it. Balls flew around my head but I cared not and I fired until my Colt was empty. I was just drawing my second when I heard the bugle sound the charge. It took me a second or two to realise it came from my left and it was the Confederate call.
The first the Yankee troopers knew of the disaster about to strike them was when Brigadier General Imboden’s men crashed into them. They stood no chance. They were in the open and facing the wrong way. We continued to fire as fast as we could until our guns were empty.
A captain rode up to the barricade. “Sorry we were late boys but thank you for holding out as long as you did.” He peered along the line as my men stood. “My God! You were facing a regiment with twelve men?”
I looked at the handful of survivors and said, proudly, “There were more captain.” I saluted with my sword and he returned the gesture.
As he rode off I looked for the survivors. I saw Sergeant Ritchie who gave me a wave and I saw a handful of men gathered around Sergeant Major Mulrooney. I ran to him. “He caught one in the leg sir.”
I took off my bandana and tied it around the top of his leg to stop the bleeding. He gave me a pale, wan look. “Looks like my luck ran out.”
“Don’t talk daft man. It is your leg and not your hands. You still have your luck.”
I heard hooves behind me and a doctor appeared, “Have you any wounded here captain?” He smiled. “I thought I would see to our boys before those damned Yankees.”
“This one is the most serious sir. Do what you can please. He is a good man.”
Cecil smiled, “Thank you captain.” Then he passed out.
“Sergeant Ritchie, get the unwounded men and the weapons across the pontoon. We will follow as soon as we can.”
“Sir.” He paused. “That was a glorious moment sir. I shall never forget you standing on top of the barricade waving your sword. It made me proud to be a Wildcat.”
I shook my head, “Just don’t tell Mistress Malone. It was a daft thing to do.”
“No it wasn’t sir. Me and the lads were all scared but seeing you defying them all it put steel in our backbones.”
I waved him away. What had I done? I looked at the bodies of the men who had fallen. We had done our duty but at what cost? I heard the recall sounded and walked across the wagon. Two of its wheels had been shattered and we would need to manhandle it.
The Brigadier General and his staff galloped up to me. They all saluted. General Imboden dismounted, “Well done Captain Hogan.” He pumped my hand as though he was trying to draw water from a well. “This will go down in the annals; a handful of men holding off a brigade of cavalry and cannon. Well done sir.”
“Sir, thank you. Have I your permission to rejoin my men across the river? We sent our wounded there to safety.”
“Of course.” He pointed behind him. “We have the wagons with the wounded and we will start them across too.”
I reached the doctor who had just finished with the Sergeant Major. “How is he doctor?”
“The ball took a chunk of muscle from his leg but it missed the bones. He will limp but he will live.” He pointed to the others. “The rest are less serious.”
“Can I take them across the river then sir? We are anxious to join our comrades. There aren’t many of us left.”
“Of course. Orderly. ” Two medical orderlies ran up with a stretcher. “Take this wounded man across the river with the captain.” He saluted. “After the war I will dine out on this story.”
My wounded men formed up in twos behind me and we followed the orderlies as they began their precarious walk across the wobbly pontoon bridge. I noticed that some of the stray balls had damaged one end. It was a lucky thing that General Imboden had arrived when he had or the wounded would have been trapped in Union territory.
All of us were glad when we were safely across. Mary and Dago ran to meet us. Mary threw her arms around me and my men all gave a huge cheer, as though we had won the war.
“I was so frightened and when the men came back and told me what you faced, I feared I would never see you again.”
“I was in no danger.”
Dago laughed, “Not even when you stood on top of the barricade defying the Yankee cavalry?”
I glared at Sergeant Ritchie who shrugged, “What you gonna do sir? Take away my stripes?” He and the rest of the men all laughed. Mary linked me and we headed towards the large house which stood a little way back from the road.
“We found this empty house and we have been using it.” She looked up at me. “Your men are very civilised you know; not like those deserters. They took their boots off and went outside to spit and smoke. They are a credit to you.”
“No my love, they are a credit to themselves. The south will never see their like again. These thirty or so men are all that remain from a regiment of three hundred. They owe the south nothing more.”
Dago had given Mary and me a room of our own. I took my boots off and sat on the bed. Before I knew what was happening I was asleep. I was awoken by the sound of cannon. In my semi-conscious state I wondered if I was back in the battle but then I saw the curtains and felt the soft bed. I
jumped to my feet and ran downstairs. The others were all gathered on the stoop.
Dago pointed to the river. “Look Jack, the Yankees have damaged the pontoon bridge. Lee is trapped on the other side.”
I watched as half of the bridge floated east. “Did the wounded get across?”
“Yes, thank God.” Dago pointed to the tents behind the house. “David is over there with the wounded.”
I was wide awake and the three of us watched dawn break and saw the grey masses that were precariously perched on the north bank of the Potomac. I wondered if this would be the end of the war. If General Meade or Hooker, whoever was commanding the northern forces, came south now and attacked then it would be all over. General Lee had nowhere to run.
David Dinsdale walked over to us in the mid morning, he looked tired. “How is it going David?”
“We lost another couple of men last night.”
“Irish?”
He laughed, “No he is a tough old bird. He keeps trying to get up and says you will need him.”
“I think our days of fighting are over now.”
David nodded and then said, “I nearly forgot. General Hill sent this by messenger. I only received it just before we crossed the river. You were asleep.”
I tore open the letter. Was this a sentence of death and further fighting or was it our freedom. Dago and David looked at me anxiously while Mary had a puzzled expression on her face. I almost cheered when I read the letter.
“The 1st Virginia Scouts is disbanded. We can all go home.”
Dago slapped me on the back. “I’ll go inside and tell the boys.”
The cheer from the house told everyone that we could now forget the war and find a new life.
Chapter 18
The Road Home
I told the men they could go home but they all insisted on waiting with me while the pontoon bridge was repaired and the rest of the army crossed the Potomac. I gave each man a letter showing that they had been discharged from the army. I wanted none of them shot as deserters. That would the final irony. Sergeant James offered to lead them. He was a good man.
