THE CLOSING DAYS
Within the Southern lines and just beyond the range of the Northern
guns, two men sat playing chess. They were elderly, gray and thin, but
never had the faces of the two colonels been more defiant. With the
Confederacy crumbling about them it was characteristic of both that
they should show no despair, if in truth they felt it. Their
confidence in Lee was sublime. He could still move mountains, although
he had no tools with which to move them, and the younger officers, mere
boys many of them, would come back to them again and again for
encouragement. Spies had brought word that Grant, after nine months of
waiting, and with Sheridan and a huge cavalry force on his flank, was
about to make his great attack. But the dauntless souls of Colonel
Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant Colonel Hector St. Hilaire remained
unmoved.
"I'm glad the rains are apparently about to cease, Hector," said
Colonel Talbot. "When the ground grows firmer it will give General Lee
a chance to make one of his great circling swoops, and rout the Yankee
army."
"So it will, Leonidas. We've been waiting for it a long time, but the
chance is here at last. We've had enough of the trenches. It's a
monotonous life at best. Ah, I take your pawn, the one for which I've
been lying in ambush more than a month."
"But that pawn dies in a good cause, Hector. When he fell, he
uncovered the path to your remaining knight, as a dozen more moves will
show you. What is it, Harry?"
Harry Kenton, thin, but hardy and strong, saluted.
"We have news, sir," he replied, "that the portion of the Union army
under General Sheridan is moving. I bring you a dispatch from General
Lee to march and meet them. Other regiments, of course, will go with
you."
They put away the chessmen and with St. Clair and Langdon marshaled the
troops in line of battle. Harry felt a sinking of the heart when he
saw how thin their ranks were, but the valiant colonels made no
complaint. Then he went back to General Lee, whose manner was calm in
face of the storm that was so obviously impending. The information had
come that Grant and the bulk of his army were marching to the attack on
the White Oak road, and, if he broke through there, nothing could save
the Army of Northern Virginia.
Harry, after taking the dispatch to the Invincibles, carried orders to
another regiment, while Dalton was engaged on similar errands. It was
obvious to him that Lee was gathering his men for a great effort, and
his heart sank. There was not much to gather. Throughout all that
long autumn and winter the Army of Northern Virginia had disintegrated
steadily. Nobody came to take the place of the slain, the wounded and
the sick. All the regiments were skeletons. Many of them could not
muster a hundred men apiece.
But Harry saw no sign of discouragement on the face of the chief whom
he respected and admired so much. Lee was thinner and his hair was
whiter, but his figure was as erect and vigorous as ever, and his face
retained its ruddy color. Yet he knew the odds against him. Grant
outside his works mustered a hundred thousand trained fighters, not raw
levies, and the seasoned Army of the Potomac, that had persisted alike
through victory and defeat, and proof now against any adversity, saw
its prize almost in its hand. And the worn veterans whom the Southern
leader could marshal against Grant were not one third his numbers.
The orderly who usually brought Lee's horse was missing on another
errand, and Harry himself was proud to bring Traveler. The general was
absorbed in deep thought, and he did not notice until he was in the
saddle who held the bridle.
"Ah, it is you, Lieutenant Kenton!" he said. "You are always where you
are needed. You have been a good soldier."
Harry flushed deeply with pleasure at such a compliment from such a
source.
"I've tried to do my best, sir," he replied modestly.
"No one can do any more. You and Mr. Dalton keep close to me. We must
go and deal with those people, once more."
His calm, steady tones brought Harry's courage back. To the young
hero-worshiper Lee himself was at least fifty thousand men, and even
with his scanty numbers he would pluck victory from the very heart of
defeat.
There could no longer be any possible doubt that Grant was about to
attack, and Lee made his dispositions rapidly. While he led the bulk
of his army in person to battle, Longstreet was left to face the army
north of the James, while Gordon at the head of Ewell's old corps stood
in front of Petersburg. Then Lee turned away to the right with less
than twenty thousand men to meet Grant, and fortified himself along the
White Oak Road. Here he waited for the Union general, who had not yet
brought up his masses, but Harry and Dalton felt quite sure that
despite the disparity of numbers Lee was the one who would attack. It
had been so all through the war, and they knew that in the offensive
lay the best defensive. The event soon proved that they read their
general's mind aright.
It was the last day of March when Lee suddenly gave the order for his
gaunt veterans to advance, and they obeyed without faltering. The
rains had ceased, a bright sun was shining, and the Southern trumpets
sang the charge as bravely as at the Second Manassas or
Chancellorsville. They had only two thousand cavalry on their flank,
under Fitz Lee, but the veteran infantry advanced with steadiness and
precision. Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant Colonel Hector St.
Hilaire were on foot now, having lost their horses long since, but,
waving their small swords, they walked dauntlessly at the head of their
little regiment, St. Clair and Langdon, a bit farther back, showing
equal courage.
The speed of the Southern charge increased and they were met at first
by only a scattering fire. The Northern generals, not expecting Lee to
move out of his works, were surprised. Before they could take the
proper precautions Lee was upon them and once more the rebel yell that
had swelled in victory on so many fields rang out in triumph. The
front lines of the men in blue were driven in, then whole brigades were
thrown back, and Harry felt a wild thrill of delight when he beheld
success where success had not seemed possible.
He saw near him the Invincibles charging home, and the two colonels
still waving their swords as they led them, and he saw also the worn
faces of the veterans about him suffused once more with the fire of
battle. He watched with glowing eyes as the fierce charge drove the
Northern masses back farther and farther.
But the Union leaders, though taken by surprise, did not permit
themselves and their troops to fall into a panic. They had come too
far and had fought too many battles to lose the prize at the very last
moment. Their own trumpets sounded on a long line, calling back the
regiments and brigades. Although the South had gained much ground
Harry saw that the resistance was hardening rapidly. Grant and
Sheridan were pouring in their masses. Heavy columns of infantry
gathered in their front, and Sheridan's numerous and powerful cavalry
began to cut away their flanks. The Southern advance became slow and
then ceased entirely.
Harry felt again that dreadful sinking of the heart. Leadership, valor
and sacrifice were of no avail, when they were faced by leadership,
valor and sacrifice also added to overwhelming numbers.
The battle was long and fierce, the men in gray throwing away their
lives freely in charge after charge, but they were gradually borne
back. Lee showed all his old skill and generalship, marshaling his men
with coolness and precision, but Grant and Sheridan would not be
denied. They too were cool and skillful, and when night came the
Southern army was driven back at all points, although it had displayed
a valor never surpassed in any of the great battles of the war. But
Lee's face had not yet shown any signs of despair, when he gathered his
men again in his old works.
It was to Harry, however, one of the gloomiest nights that he had ever
known. As a staff officer, he knew the desperate position of the
Southern force, and his heart was very heavy within him. He saw across
the swamps and fields the innumerable Northern campfires, and he heard
the Northern bugles calling to one another in the dusk. But as the
night advanced and he had duties to do his courage rose once more.
Since their great commander-in-chief was steady and calm he would try
to be so too.
The opposing sentinels were very close to one another in the dark and
as usual they often talked. Harry, as he went on one errand or
another, heard them sometimes, but he never interfered, knowing that
nothing was to be gained by stopping them. Deep in the night, when he
was passing through a small wood very close to the Union lines, a
figure rose up before him. It was so dark that he did not know the man
at first, but at the second look he recognized him.
"Shepard!" he exclaimed. "You here!"
"Yes, Mr. Kenton," replied the spy, "it's Shepard, and you will not try
to harm me. Why should you at such a moment? I am within the
Confederate lines for the last time."
"So, you mean to give up your trade?"
"It's going to give me up. Chance has made you and me antagonists, Mr.
Kenton, but our own little war, as well as the great war in which we
both fight, is about over. I will not come within the Southern lines
again because there is no need for me to do so. In a few days there
will be no Southern lines. Don't think that I'm trying to exult over
you, but remember what I told you four years ago in Montgomery. The
South has made a great and wonderful fight, but it was never possible
for her to win."
"We are not beaten yet, Mr. Shepard."
"No, but you will be. I suppose you'll fight to the last, but the end
is sure as the rising of tomorrow's sun. We have generals now who
can't be driven back."
Harry was silent because he had no answer to make, and Shepard resumed:
"I'm willing to tell you, Mr. Kenton, that your cousin, Mr. Mason, a
captain now, is here with General Sheridan, and that he went through
today's battle uninjured."
"I'm glad at any rate that Dick is now a captain."
"He has earned the rank. He is my good friend, as I hope you will be
after the war."
"I see no reason why we shouldn't. You've served the North in your own
way and I've served the South in mine. I want to say to you, Mr.
Shepard, that if in our long personal struggle I held any malice
against you it's all gone now, and I hope that you hold none against
me."
"I never felt any. Good-by!"
"Good-by!"
Shepard was gone so quickly and with so little noise that he seemed to
vanish in the air, and Harry turned back to his work, resolved not to
believe the man's assertion that the war was over. He slept a little,
and so did Dalton, but both were awake, when a red dawn came alive with
the crash of cannon and rifles.
Shepard had spoken truly, when he said that the North now had generals
who would not be driven back. Nor would they cease to attack. As soon
as the light was sufficient, Grant and Sheridan began to press Lee with
all their might. Pickett, who had led the great charge at Gettysburg,
and Johnson, who held a place called Five Forks, were assailed fiercely
by overpowering numbers, and, despite a long and desperate resistance,
their command was cut in pieces and the fragments scattered, leaving
Lee's right flank uncovered.
The day, like the one before it, ended in defeat and confusion, and, at
the next dawn, Grant, silent, tenacious, came anew to the attack, his
dense columns now assailing the front before Petersburg, and carrying
the trenches that had held them so long. The thin Confederate lines
there fought in vain to hold them, but the Union brigades, exultant and
cheering, burst through everything, flung aside those of their foes
whom they did not overthrow, and advanced toward the city. Here fell
the famous Lieutenant General A. P. Hill, a man of frail body and
valiant soul, beloved of Lee and the whole army.
The next noon came, somber to Harry beyond all description. The
youngest officer knew that while General Lee was still in Petersburg he
could no longer hold it, and that they were nearly surrounded by the
victorious and powerful Union host. The break in the lines had been
made just after sunrise, and had been widened in the later hours of the
morning. Now there was a momentary lull in the firing, but the lifting
clouds of smoke enabled them to see vast masses of men in blue
advancing and already in the suburbs of the town.
Lee's headquarters were about a mile and a half west of Petersburg,
where he stood on a lawn and watched the progress of the combat.
Nearly opposite him was a tall observatory that the Union men had
erected, and from its summit the Northern generals also were watching.
Harry and Dalton stood near Lee, awaiting with others his call, and
every detail he saw that day always remained impressed upon Harry
Kenton's mind.
He intently watched his general. Feeling that the Southern army was so
near destruction he thought that the face of Lee would show agitation.
But it was not so. His calm and grave demeanor was unchanged. He was
in full uniform of fine gray, and had even buckled to his belt his
dress sword which he seldom carried. It was told of him that he said
that morning if he were compelled to surrender he would do so in his
best. But he had not yet given up hope.
Harry turned his eyes away from Lee to the enemy. Without the aid of
glasses now, he saw the great columns in blue advancing, preceded by a
tremendous fire of artillery that filled the air with bursting shells.
The infantry themselves were advancing with the bayonet, the sunlight
gleaming on the polished metal. As far as he could see the ring of
fire and steel extended. One heavy column was advancing toward the
very lawn on which they stood.
"Looks as if they were going to trample us under foot," said Dalton.
"Yes, but the general may still find a way out of it," said Harry.
"They are still coming," said Dalton.
The shells were bursting about them and bullets too soon began to
strike upon the lawn. A battery that sought to drive back the
advancing column was exposed to such a heavy fire that it was compelled
to limber up and retreat. The officers urged Lee to withdraw and at
length, mounting Traveler, he rode back slowly and deliberately to his
inner line. Harry often wondered what his feelings were on that day,
but whatever they were his face expressed nothing. When he stopped in
his new position he said to one of his staff, but without raising his
voice:
"This is a bad business, colonel."
Harry heard him say a little later to another officer:
"Well, colonel, it has happened as I told them it would at Richmond.
The line has stretched until it has broken."
But the general and his staff were not permitted to remain long at
their second stop. The Union columns never ceased to press the
shattered Southern army. Their great artillery, served with the
rapidity and accuracy that had marked it all through the war, poured
showers of shell and grape and canister upon the thin ranks in gray,
and the rifles were close enough to add their own stream of missiles to
the irresistible fire.
Harry was in great fear for his general. It seemed as if the Northern
gunners had recognized him and his staff. Perhaps they knew his famous
war horse, Traveler, as he rode slowly away, but in any event, the
shells began to strike on all sides of the little group. One burst
just behind Lee. Another killed the horse of an officer close to him,
and the bursting fragments inflicted slight wounds upon members of the
staff. Lee, for the first time, showed emotion. Looking back over his
shoulder his eyes blazed, and his cheeks flushed. Harry knew that he
wished to turn and order a charge, but there was nothing with which to
charge, and, withdrawing his gaze from the threatening artillery, he
rode steadily on.
The general's destination now was an earthwork in the suburbs of the
city, manned by a reserve force, small but ardent and defiant. It
welcomed Lee and his staff with resounding cheers, and Harry's heart
sprang up again. Here, at least, was confidence, and as they rode
behind them the guns replied fiercely to the advancing Northern
batteries, checking them for a little while, and giving the retreating
troops a chance to rest.
Now came a lull in the fighting, but Harry knew well that it was only a
lull. Presently Grant and Sheridan would press harder than ever. They
were fully aware of the condition of the Southern army, its smallness
and exhaustion, and they would never cease to hurl upon it their
columns of cavalry and infantry, and to rake it with the numerous
batteries of great guns, served so well. Once more his heart sank low,
as he thought of what the next night might bring forth. He knew that
General Lee had sent in the morning a messenger to the capital with the
statement that Petersburg could be held no longer and that he would
retreat in the night.
Every effort was made to gather the remaining portion of the Southern
army into one strong, cohesive body. Longstreet, at the order of Lee,
left his position north of the James River, while Gordon took charge of
the lines to the east of Petersburg. It was when they gathered for
this last stand that Harry realized fully how many of the great
Confederate officers were gone. It was here that he first heard of the
death of A. P. Hill, of whom he had seen so much at Gettysburg. And he
choked as he thought of Stonewall Jackson, Jeb Stuart, Turner Ashby and
all the long roll of the illustrious fallen, who were heroes to him.
The Northern infantry and cavalry did not charge now, but the cannon
continued their work. Battery after battery poured its fire upon the
earthworks, although the men there, sheltered by the trenches, did not
suffer so much for the present.
Harry found time to look up his friends, and discovered the Invincibles
in a single trench, about sixty of them left, but all showing a
cheerfulness, extraordinary in such a situation. It was characteristic
of both Colonel Talbot and Lieutenant Colonel St. Hilaire that they
should present a bolder front, the more desperate their case. Nor were
the younger officers less assured. Captain Arthur St. Clair was
carefully dusting from his clothing dirt that had been thrown there by
bursting shells, and Lieutenant Thomas Langdon was contemplating with
satisfaction the track of a bullet that had gone through his left
sleeve without touching the arm.
"The sight of you is welcome, Harry," said Colonel Leonidas Talbot in
even tones. "It is pleasant to know at such a time that one's friend
is alive, because the possibilities are always against it. Still,
Harry, I've always felt that you bear a charmed life, and so do St.
Clair and Langdon. Tell me, is it true that we evacuate Petersburg
tonight?"
"It's no secret, sir. The orders have been issued and we do."
"If we must go, we must, and it's no time for repining. Well, the town
has been defended long and valiantly against overwhelming numbers. If
we lose it, we lose with glory. It can never be said of the South that
we were not as brave and tenacious as any people that ever lived."
"The Northern armies that fight us will be the first to give us that
credit, sir."
"That is true. Soldiers who have tested the mettle of one another on
innumerable desperate fields do not bear malice and are always ready to
acknowledge the merits of the foe. Ah, see how closely that shell
burst to us! And another! And a third! And a fourth! Hector, you
read the message, do you not?"
"Certainly, Leonidas, it's as plain as print to you and me. John
Carrington--good old John! honest old John!--is now in command of that
group of batteries on the right. He has been in charge of guns
elsewhere, and has been suddenly shifted to this point. The great
increase in volume and accuracy of fire proves it."
"Right, Hector! He's as surely there as we are here. The voice of
those cannon is the voice of John Carrington. Well, if we're to be
crushed I prefer for good old John to do it."
"But we're not crushed, Leonidas. We'll go out of Petersburg tonight,
beating off every attack of the enemy, and then if we can't hold
Richmond we'll march into North Carolina, gather together all the
remaining forces of the Confederacy, and, directed by the incomparable
genius of our great commander, we'll yet win the victory."
"Right, Hector! Right! Pardon me my moment of depression, but it was
only a moment, remember, and it will not occur again. The loss of a
capital--even if it should come to that--does not necessarily mean the
loss of a cause. Among the hills and mountains of North Carolina we
can hold out forever."
Harry was cheered by them, but he did not fully share their hopes and
beliefs.
"Aren't they two of the greatest men you've ever known?" whispered St.
Clair to him.
"If honesty and grandeur of soul make greatness they surely are,"
replied Harry feelingly.
He returned now to his general's side, and watched the great
bombardment. Scores of guns in a vast half circle were raining shells
upon the slender Confederate lines. The blaze was continuous on a long
front, and huge clouds of smoke gathered above. Harry believed that
the entire Union army would move forward and attack their works, but
the charge did not come. Evidently Grant remembered Cold Harbor, and,
feeling that his enemy was in his grasp, he refrained from useless
sacrifices.
Another terrible night, lighted up by the flash of cannon and
thundering with the crash of the batteries came, and Lee, collecting
his army of less than twenty thousand men, moved out of Petersburg. It
tore Harry's heart to leave the city, where they had held Grant at bay
so long, but he knew the necessity. They could not live another day
under that concentrated and awful fire. They might stay and surrender
or retreat and fight again, and valiant souls would surely choose the
latter.
The march began just after twilight turned to night, and the darkness
and clouds of skirmishers hid it from the enemy. They crossed the
Appomattox, and then advanced on the Hickory road on the north side of
the river. General Lee stood on foot, but with the bridle of Traveler
in his hand and his staff about him, at the entrance to the road, and
watched the troops as they marched past.
His composure and steadiness seemed to Harry as great as ever, and his
voice never broke, as he spoke now and then to the marching men. Nor
was the spirit of the men crushed. Again and again they cheered as
they saw the strong figure of the gray commander who had led them so
often to victory. Nor were they shaken by the booming of the cannon
behind them, nor by the tremendous crashes that marked the explosions
of the magazines in Petersburg.
When the last soldier had passed, General Lee and his staff mounted
their horses and followed the army in the dusk and gloom. Behind them
lofty fires shed a glaring light over fallen Petersburg.