The Tree of Appomattox by Joseph A. Altsheler (top young adult novels .txt) 📕

troops were rapidly concentrating at every critical point. Old Jube Early, mighty swearer, was proving himself a master of men.

Dick could not watch Sheridan long, as the cavalry were quickly sent off to the left to clear away skirmishers, and let the infantry and artillery get up on that front. There were many groups of trees, and from every one of these the Southern riflemen sent swarms of bullets. It seemed to Dick that he was preserved miraculously. Many a bullet coming straight for his head must have turned aside at the last moment to seek a target elsewhere. To him at least these bullets were merciful that morning.

But they cleared the ground, though some of their own saddles were emptied, and the infantry and the artillery came up behind them. The big guns were planted and began to reply to those of the South. Yet the Confederate lines still held fast. Clouds of smoke floated over the field, but whenever they lifted sufficiently Dick saw the gray army maintaining all its positions. He looked for the Invincibles again but could not find them. Doubtless they were hid from his view by the hills.

"It's anybody's fight," said Warner, surveying the field with his cool, mathematical eye. "We have the greater numbers but our infantry are coming up slowly and, besides, the enemy has the advantage of interior lines."

"And the morning wanes," said Dick. "I thought we'd make a grand rush and sweep over 'em!"

"Oh, these Johnnies are tough. They have to be. There's not much marching over the other by either side in this war."

A heavy battle of cannon and rifles, with no advantage to either side, went on for a long time. Dick saw Sheridan galloping here and there, and urging on his troops, but the reserves were slow in coming and he was not yet able to hurl his full strength upon his enemy. Noon came, the battle already having lasted four or five hours, and Sheridan had no triumph to show, save the little fort that the cavalry had seized early in the morning.

"Do you think we'll have to draw off?" asked Pennington.

"Maybe we'll have to, but we won't," replied Dick. "Sheridan refuses to recognize necessities when they're not in his favor. You'll now see the difference between a man and men."

Colonel Winchester's regiment was sent off further to the left to prevent any flanking movement, but they could still see most of the field. For the moment they were not engaged, and they watched the thrilling and terrific panorama as it passed before them.

Colonel Winchester himself suddenly broke from his calm and pointed to the rear of the Union lines.

"Look!" he exclaimed. "All our reserves of artillery and infantry are coming up! The whole army will now advance!"

They saw very clearly the deepening of the lines in the center. Sheridan was there massing the new troops for the attack, and soon the trumpets sounded the charge along the whole front. The Northern batteries redoubled their fire, and the South, knowing that a heavier shock of battle was coming, replied in kind.

"Here we go again!" cried Pennington, and the horsemen rode straight at their enemy. It seemed to Dick that the Southern regiments came forward to meet them and a battle long, fierce and wavering in its fortunes ensued. The wing to which the Winchesters belonged pressed forward, driving their enemy before them, only to be caught when they went too far by a savage flanking fire of artillery. Early had brought in his reserve guns, and so powerful was their attack that at this point the Northern line was almost severed, and a Southern wedge was driven into the gap.

But Sheridan did not despair. He had a keen eye and a collected mind, infused with a fiery spirit. Where his line had been weakened he sent new troops. With charge after charge he drove the Confederates out of the gap and closed it up. A whole division was then hurled with its full weight against the Southern line and broke it, although the gallant general who led the column fell shot through the heart.

But Early formed new lines. It was only a temporary success for Sheridan. An important division of cavalry sent on a wide flanking movement had not yet arrived, and he wondered why. Perhaps the thought came into his own dauntless heart that he might not succeed at all, but, if so, he hid it, and called up fresh resources of strength and courage. It was now far into the afternoon but he resolved nevertheless to win victory before the day was over. Everywhere the call for a new charge was sounded.

The Winchesters had a good trumpeter, a deep-chested young fellow who loved to blow forth mellow notes, and now as his brazen instrument sang the song that summoned men to death the young men unconsciously tightened the grip of the knee on their horses, and leaned a little forward, as if they would see the enemy more closely. To the right the fire grew heavier and heavier, and most of the field was hidden by a thick veil of smoke.

Dick saw other cavalry massing on either side of the Winchester regiment, and he knew their charge was to be one of great weight and importance.

"I feel that we're going to win or lose here," he said to Warner.

"Looks like it," replied the Vermonter, "but I think you can put your money on the cavalry today. It's Sheridan's great striking arm."

"It'll have to strike with all its might, that's sure," said Dick.

He did not know that the force in front of him was commanded by a general from his own state, Breckinridge, once Vice-President of the United States and also high in the councils of the Confederacy. Breckinridge was inspiring his command with the utmost vigor and already his heavy guns were sweeping the front of the Union cavalry, while the riflemen stood ready for the charge.

The great mass of Northern horsemen were eager and impatient. A thrill of anticipation seemed to run through them, as if through one body, and when the final command was given they swept forward in a mighty, irresistible line. In Dick's mind then anticipation became knowledge. He was as sure as he was of his own name that they were going to win.

Again he was knee to knee with Warner and Pennington, and with these good comrades on his right and left he rode into the Southern fire, among the shell and shrapnel and grapeshot and bullets that had swept so often around him. In spite of the most desperate courage, the Southern troops gave way before the terrific onset—they had to give ground or they would have been trampled under the feet of the horses. Cannon and many rifles were taken, and the whole Confederate division was driven in disorder down the road.

Warner's stern calm was broken, and he shouted in delight "We win! We win!" Then Dick and Pennington shouted with him: "We win! We win!" and as the smoke of their own battle lifted they saw that the Union army elsewhere was triumphant also. Sheridan along his whole line was forcing the enemy back toward Winchester, raking him with his heavy guns, and sending charge after charge of cavalry against him. Unable to withstand the weight hurled upon them the Southern troops gave ground at an increased rate.

Yet Early and his veterans never showed greater courage than on that day. His brave officers were everywhere, checking the fugitives and, his best division turning a front of steel to the enemy, covered the retreat. Neither infantry nor cavalry could break it, although every man in the Southern command knew that the battle was lost. Yet they were resolved that it should not become a rout, and though many were falling before the Union force they never shrank for a moment from their terrible task.

The Invincibles were in the division that covered the retreat, and they were exposed at all times to the full measure of the Union attack. Dalton had joined them that morning, but the bullets and shells seemed resolved to spare the four youths and the two colonels, or at least not to doom them to death. Nearly every one of them bore slight wounds, and often men had been killed only a few feet away, but the valiant band, led by its daring officers, fought with undimmed courage and resolution.

"I fear that we have been defeated, Hector," said Colonel Leonidas Talbot.

"Don't call it a defeat, Leonidas. It's merely a masterly retreat before superior numbers, after having inflicted great loss upon the enemy. As you see, we are protecting our withdrawal. Every attack of the enemy upon our division has been beaten back, and we will continue to beat him back as long as he comes."

"True, true, Hector, and the Invincibles are bearing a great part in this glorious feat of arms! But the Yankee general, Sheridan, is not like the other Yankee generals who operated in the valley earlier in the war. We're bound to admit that."

"We do admit it, Leonidas, and alas! we have now no Stonewall Jackson to meet him, brave and capable as General Early is!"

The two colonels looked at the setting sun, and hoped that it would go down with a rush. The division could not hold forever against the tremendous pressure upon it that never ceased, but darkness would put an end to the battle. The first gray of twilight was already showing on the eastern hills, and Early's men still held the broad turnpike leading into the South. Here, fighting with all the desperation of imminent need, they beat off every effort of the Northern cavalry to gain their ground, and when night came they still held it, withdrawing slowly and in good order, while Sheridan's men, exhausted by tremendous marches and heavy losses, were unable to pursue. Yet the North had gained a great and important victory.

* * * *

Darkness closed over a weary but exultant army. It had not destroyed the forces of Early, and it had been able to pursue only three miles. It had lost five thousand men in killed and wounded, but the results, nevertheless, were great and the soldiers knew it. The spell of Southern invincibility in the famous valley, where Jackson had won so often, was broken, and the star of Sheridan had flashed out with brilliancy, to last until the war's close. They knew, too, that they now held all of the valley north of Winchester, and they were soon to know that they would continue to hold it. They commanded also a great railway and a great canal, and the South was cut off from Maryland and Pennsylvania, neither of which it could ever invade again.

Although a far smaller battle than a dozen that had been fought, it was one of the greatest and most complete victories the North had yet won. After a long and seemingly endless deadlock a terrible blow had been struck at the flank of Lee, and the news of the triumph filled the North with joy. It was also given on this occasion to those who had fought in the battle itself to know what they had done. They were not blinded by the dust and shouting of the arena.

Dick with his two young comrades sat beneath an oak and ate the warm food and drank the hot coffee the camp cook brought to them. They had escaped without hurt, and they were very happy over the achievement of the day. The night was crisp, filled with starshine, and the cooking fires had been built along a long line, stretching away like a series of triumphant bonfires.

"I felt this morning that we would win," said Dick.

"I've felt several times that we would win, when we didn't," said Pennington.

"But this time I felt it right. They say that Stonewall Jackson always communicated electricity to his men, and I think our Little Phil has the same quality. Since we first came to him here I haven't doubted that we would win, and when I saw him and Grant talking I knew that we'd be up and doing."

"It's the spirit that Grant showed at Vicksburg," said Warner, seriously. "Little Phil—I intend to call him that when I'm not in