by John McElroy
CHAPTER IX. VICTORY AT LAST
SI REAPPEARS AS FROM THE GRAVE, WITH AN APPETITE LIKE PRAIRIE FIRE.
ON THEIR way back from "settling the battery," Si and Shorty each brokeoff a big armful of cedar branches. These they spread down on the groundwhen the regiment resumed its place in the line-of-battle, and lay downon them to spend the rest of the night as comfortably as possible. Thefire with which they had roasted the pig, and from which they had drawnmuch comfort during the day, had had to be extinguished when darknesscame on. But it had dried out and warmed the ground for a considerablespace around, and on this they made their bed.
"We seem to play in fair luck right along, Shorty," said the hopeful Si,as they curled up on the boughs. "Most of the boys 've got to lay downin a foot of mud."
"Don't get to crowin' too loud," grumbled Shorty. "If they find outwhat a good thing we have, some Jigadier-Brindle'll snatch it away forhimself." But Si was fast asleep before Shorty finished speaking.
Sometime before midnight the Orderly-Sergeant came around, and aftervigorous kicking and shaking, succeeded in waking them.
"Get up," he said, "and draw some rations. The wagons've got in fromNashville."{108}
"My gracious!" said Si, as soon as he was wide enough awake tounderstand the Orderly-Sergeant's words, "is it possible that we'regoing to have plenty of hardtack and pork and coffee again? Seems to mea hundred years since we drew a full ration."
He and Shorty jumped up and ran over to where the Quartermaster-Sergeantand his assistants were dealing out a handful of crackers and a piece ofpork to each man as he came up.
"Mebbe I oughtn't to say it," said Si, as he munched away, taking a bitefirst off the crackers in his right and then off the meat in his left,"but nothing that ever mother baked tasted quite as good as this."
"This does seem to be a specially good lot," assented Shorty. "Probablya wagon load that they intended for the officers and give us by mistake.Better eat it all up before they find it out."
The morning of Jan. 2, 1863, dawned bleak and chill, but this at leastbrought the great comfort that the dreary rain was at last over. Thesharp air was bracing, and put new life and hope into the hearts ofthe Union soldiers. Many wagons had been gotten up during the night,bringing food and ammunition for all. Soon after daylight cheerfulfires were blazing everywhere, and the morning air was laden with theappetizing fragrance of boiling coffee and broiling meat. The sun beganto rise over Murfreesboro' and the rebel camps, giving promise of abright, invigorating day.
"I hope this thing'll be brought to a focus to-day, and the questionsettled as to who shall occupy this piece of real estate," said Shorty,as he and Si{109} finished a generous breakfast, filled their boxesand pockets with cartridges, and began knocking the dried mud off theirclothes and rubbing the rust from their guns. "I want them gents inbrown clothes to clear out and leave. It frets me to see them hangin''round. They're bad neighbors."
"I hope," said Si, carefully picking out the tube of his gun with a pin,"we won't put in to-day as we did yesterday layin' 'round making facesan' shakin' our fists at one another. Let's have the thing out at once."
Evidently the rebels were of the same frame of mind. They saluted thedawn with a noisy fusillade that ran along the miles of winding line. Itwas spiteful, crashing and persistent, but as the Union lines lay beyondgood musket range and the rebels showed no disposition to advanceacross the fields and come to close quarters, the noise was quite out ofproportion to the harm done.
The two rebel batteries on the opposite side of the river opened upa terrific fire upon one of our batteries, and the air seemed torn toshreds by the storm of howling missiles.
The 200th Ind. was too far away to have more than a spectacular interestin this tempestuous episode. They stood around their gun-stacks andwatched and listened while the hours passed in ineffective noise, andwondered when the crisis of action was going to arrive.
"They seem to have lost their appetite for close acquaintance with the200th Ind.," remarked Shorty. "They found that Jordan was a hard road totravel whenever they came across the fields at us, and are{110} tryin'to scare us by makin' a racket. I think we kin stand it as long as theirpowder kin. But I'm gittin' hungry agin. Let's have somethin' to eat."
"Good gracious, it is noon," answered Si, looking up at the sun. "Ibelieve I do want some dinner."
They had scarcely finished dinner-eating when the 200th Ind. was orderedto move over toward Stone River. It halted on a little rise of ground onthe bank, which commanded an extensive view on both sides of the river.There was a portentous flow in the great, dark-blue sea of men. Thebillows, crested with shining steel, were rolling eastward toward theriver.
"Something's goin' to happen; meetin's about to break up; school's goin'to let out," said Shorty eagerly. "Isn't it a grand sight."
"Gracious me!" said Si, devouring the spectacle with his eyes. "How Iwish that father and mother and sister could see all this. It's worthgoing through a great deal to see this."
It was by far the most imposing spectacle they had yet seen. The wholeArmy of the Cumberland was crowded into the narrow space between theNashville Pike and Stone River. Its compact regiments, brigades, anddivisions showed none of the tearing and mangling they had endured,but stood or moved in well-dressed ranks that seemed the embodiment ofmighty purpose and resistless force.
Around its grand array, a half mile away, lay the somber, portentousline of brown-clad men. Beyond them rose the steeples and roofs of thesleepy old town of Murfreesboro', with crowds of men and women occupyingevery point of vantage, to witness the renewal of the awful battle.{111}
It was now long past noon. The bright sun had long ago scattered thechill mists of the morning, and radiated warmth and light over the dunlandscape. Even the somber cedars lost some of the funereal gloom theywore when the skies were lowering.
"There go two brigades across the river," said Si. "We're goin' to tryto turn their right."
They saw a long line of men file down the river bank, cross, and gointo line on the high ground beyond. Their appearance seemed to stir thebrown mass lying on the hights a mile in front of them to action. Therebels began swarming out of their works and moving forward into thewoods.
Presently a thin line of men in butternut-colored clothes ran forwardto a fence in front, and began throwing it down. Behind them came threelong, brown lines, extending from near the river to the woods far awayto the left. Batteries galloped in the intervals to knolls, on whichthey unlimbered and opened fire.
It was an overpowering mass of men for the two little brigades toresist. Si's heart almost stood still as he saw the inequality of thecontest.
"Why don't they send us over there to help those men?" he anxiouslyasked. "They can't stand up against that awful crowd."
"Just wait," said Shorty hopefully. "Old Rosy knows what he's doin'.He's got enough here for the business."
The artillery all along the line burst out in torrents of shells, butSi's eyes were glued on the two little brigades. He saw the white spurtsfrom the skirmishers' rifles, and men drop among the rebels,{112}who yet moved slowly forward, like some all-engulfing torrent. Theskirmishers ran back to the main line, and along its front sped a burstof smoke as each regiment fired by volley. The foremost rebel linequivered a little, but moved steadily on.
Then a cloud of white smoke hid both Union and rebel lines, and fromit came the sound as of thousands of carpenters hammering awayindustriously at nails.
Presently Si was agonized to see a fringe of blue break back fromthe bank of smoke, and run rapidly to the rear. They were followed byregiments falling back slowly, in order, and turning at the word ofcommand to deliver volleys in the faces of their yell ing pursuers.
Si looked at his Colonel, and saw him anxiously watching the brigadecommander for orders to rush across the river to the assistance of thetwo brigades.
Suddenly there was a whirl in front. A battery galloped up, the driverslashing the horses, the cannoneers sitting stol
idly on the limbers withtheir arms folded. It swept by to a knoll in front and to the right,which commanded the other side of the river. Instantly the gunnerssprang to the ground, the cannon were tossed about as if they were playthings, and before Si could fairly wink he saw the guns lined up onthe bank, the drivers standing by the horses' heads, and the cannonsbelching savagely into the flanks of the horde of rebels.
Then another battery swept up alongside the first, and another, until 58guns crowned the high banks and thundered until the earth shook as withthe ague. A deluge of iron swept the fields where the mighty{113} hostof rebels were advancing. Tops were torn out of trees and fell with acrash, fence-rails and limbs of oak went madly flying through the air,regiments and brigades disappeared before the awful blast.
For a few minutes Si and Shorty stood appalled at the deafening crashand the shocking destruction. Then they saw the rebels reel and flybefore the tornado of death.{114}
A great shout arose from thousands of excited men standing near.Regiments and brigades started as with one impulse to rush across theriver and pursue the flying enemy. The 200th Ind. was one of these. Noone heard any orders from the officers. The men caught the contagionof victory and rushed forward, sweeping with them the lately-defeatedbrigades, hurrying over the wreckage of the cannon-fire, over thethickly-strewn dead and wounded, and gathering in prisoners, flags andcannon.
They went on so, nearly to the breastworks behind which the rebels wereseeking shelter.
Si and Shorty were among the foremost. A few hundred yards from therebel works Si fell to the ground without a groan. Shorty saw him, andran to him. The side of his head was covered with blood, and he wasmotionless.
SI KLEGG FELL WITHOUT A GROAN 113]
"Stone dead--bullet plum through his head," said the agonized Shorty.But there was no time for mourning the fallen. The pursuit was stillhot, and Shorty's duty was in front. He ran ahead until the Colonelhalted the regiment. Fresh rebels were lining up in the breastworksand threatening a return charge which would be disastrous. The Colonelhastily re-formed the regiment to meet this, and slowly withdrew it ingood order to resist any counter-attack. After marching a mile or morethe regiment halted and went into bivouac. The rejoicing men startedgreat fires and set about getting supper. But the saddened Shorty hadno heart for rejoicing over the victory, or for supper. He drew offfrom the rest, sat down at the roots of an oak, wrapped the cape of hisovercoat about his face, and{115} abandoned himself to his bitter grief.Earth had no more joy for him. He wished he had been shot at the sametime his partner was. He could think of nothing but that poor boy lyingthere dead and motionless on the cold ground. He felt that he couldnever think of anything else, and the sooner he was shot the better itwould be.
The other boys respected his grief At first they tried to tempt himto eat something and drink some coffee, but Shorty would not listen tothem, and they drew away, that he might be alone.
He sat thus for some hours. The loss of their sturdy Corporal saddenedthe whole company, and as they sat around their fires after supper theyex tolled his good traits, recounted his exploits, and easily made himout the best soldier in the regiment.
Presently the fifes and rums played tattoo, and the boys beganpreparations for turning in.
Shorty had become nearly frozen sitting there motionless, and he got upand went to the fire to thaw out. He had just picked up a rail to lay iton the fire in better shape, when he heard a weak voice in quiring:
"Does anybody know where the 200th Ind. is?"
Shorty dropped the rail as if he had been shot, and rushed in thedirection of the voice. In an instant he came back almost carrying SiKlegg.
There was a hubbub around the fire that kept everybody from paying theleast attention to "taps."
"Yes, it's really me," said Si, responding as well as he was able tothe hearty handshakings. "And I ain't no ghost, neither. I've gotan appetite on me like a prairie fire, and if you fellers are reallyglad{116} to see me you'll hustle up here all the grub in the CommissaryDepartment. I can eat every mite of it. I was hit by a spent ball andknocked senseless. But I ain't going to tell you any more till I getsomething to eat."
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