AN IMAGINARY AND A REAL BATTLE
"Company--halt!" yelled Sergeant Knox; and he continued to give orders,
as though he were in the act of bringing a column into position.
The enemy halted, as if in obedience to the command of the sergeant on
the shore. His commands were plainly heard in the still air of the
morning by the troopers in the water; for all of them had turned their
gaze in the direction of the woods. But the observer was concealed
among the branches of a large tree, and the enemy could see nothing.
The guard of the wagon-train still continued to work at the wheels. So
far as they could move the vehicles at all, it was in the direction of
the Jamestown Road, still three miles from them. As Life regarded the
situation, it was a hopeless case for them, being only twenty rods from
the enemy. It is no wonder that they were discouraged, though the
officers compelled their men to continue their labor.
The only salvation for the train and the guard was in the arrival of
the re-enforcement from the Riverlawn Cavalry and its auxiliary force.
He was confident that this assistance would come very soon, and he
hoped it would come before the enemy left the stream. Life measured
with his eye the direction and distances of the edge of the forest, the
train, and the cavalry.
His position was in about the centre of a straight portion of the line
of the woods, ending at a point nearest to the stream. He had been
informed that Lieutenant Lyon would command the detachment that was to
move towards the pike. This force could do little or nothing with their
horses in the meadow, any more than the Confederate company. The
sergeant had arranged in his mind just how the affair should be
managed, and believed that Deck would hear his advice, as he often had
before, whether he followed it or not.
The enemy remained at a halt in the stream, the officers and most of
the troopers watching the woods in the direction from which the
commands came; for Life had repeated them at intervals for some time.
Like a prudent commander, the captain seemed to be unwilling to
continue his fight with the mud until the unseen enemy, if there was
one, had been seen, and his strength measured.
The sergeant looked at his great silver watch, and found that fifty
minutes had elapsed since the departure of Milton. He had calculated
closely that the re-enforcement would be on the ground in about half an
hour; but probably his impatience had hurried his reckoning, and he
made no allowance for the overhanging branches of the trees, which
would to some extent impede the progress of the troopers.
But he had heard the sound of the horses' feet as he returned his watch
to his pocket. He descended from the tree in hot haste, and rushed up
the road with all the speed that his long legs would carry him. He soon
discovered his lieutenant riding at the head of his platoon. Deck, as
soon as he saw the sergeant, gave the order to walk the horses; for he
desired to ascertain the nature of the situation before he reached the
scene of the coming action.
[Illustration: "HE SOON DISCOVERED HIS LIEUTENANT RIDING AT THE HEAD OF
HIS PLATOON." _Page 210._]
"None o' my business, Leftenant; but I reckon you'd better halt, and
take a look at things ahead," said the sergeant in a very low tone to
the commander of the force, which consisted of nearly, or quite, eighty
men, or more than three-fourths of the strength of the Confederate
company, allowing it to be full, as it appeared to be.
Deck promptly accepted the suggestion, and gave the command; for he had
only the meagre information conveyed to him by Milton, and he knew
nothing whatever of any changes in the situation since he left his
companion; and in the space of an hour it was possible that the
condition of things on the meadow was entirely altered.
In the same low tone the sergeant suggested that he had better
dismount, and go with him to the boundary line of the forest, where he
could see for himself the position of the wagon-train and that of the
enemy. This was just what the lieutenant wanted to know, and he at once
complied with the suggestion of his faithful friend. They went to the
point indicated, keeping behind the trees; for Deck did not wish the
Confederates to draw any inference from his appearance so near the
scene of action.
It required but a glance for the young officer to take in the field of
action, while Life was explaining all that he had seen, and especially
the taking to the water, like so many ducks, of the enemy. The escort
of the train were still laboriously using their shoulders at the wheels
of the wagons; while the mules, six attached to each vehicle, were
struggling in the mud, and were most unmercifully beaten by their negro
drivers. A snail or a turtle would have beaten in a race with the
train.
"They can never get out of that mire," said Deck.
"Never while they travel the way they are going now," replied Life.
"They are headed for the Jamestown Road, for I cal'late they don't know
nothin' about this road we come by."
"That's a lieutenant in command of the escort," said the commander of
the re-enforcement. "I don't think he shows good judgment, for he ought
to get out of that mire on hard ground the shortest way he can do so;
but I suppose he concluded that he could not get his wagons through the
woods without cutting away the trees to make a road."
"This road ain't down on the maps."
"But I see all there is to be seen, Life; and I don't make out why the
enemy halts in the water, if they mean to capture that train, and they
have force enough to beat the escort twice over."
"I reckon I brought 'em to a halt," said the sergeant, as he described
the ruse of his orders to an imaginary force. "I cal'late that cap'n
didn't mean to fall into no trap."
"It was well thought of, Life; now I am ready to return to my command,"
added Deck, as he started for his detachment.
The sergeant wanted to ask the lieutenant what he intended to do, or,
in other words, to obtain his plan of battle; for the young officer was
about as reticent as his father in matters of this kind. But he had
formed his plan, and was thinking it over. The first thing he did was
to send Milton, on foot, over to the wagon-train, advising the
lieutenant in command of the escort to rest his men, and not exhaust
his force with a useless struggle in the mud; for a force was at hand
which would assist him in getting the wagons to hard ground.
Deck explained to the sergeant that he had been somewhat delayed,
before he left the main road, by Captain Gordon, who had given him
precise directions as to his course after he had finished the affair on
the meadow, whether he was defeated or successful in his mission; for
the rest of the squadron, with the remainder of the riflemen, were to
proceed immediately to the south, where the aide-de-camp had work for
them in that direction.
"Lieutenant Butters!" called Deck, as he rode to the head of the
riflemen's portion of the column.
The late jail-keeper rode to a little opening in the woods, where Deck
had halted, and received his orders. He then formed his command in
line, probably animated by the drill in which he had been engaged for
two days. He then numbered them from one up to thirty. The
sharpshooters then dismounted, and secured their horses in the woods.
They were again formed in line. The platoon of cavalrymen were at rest,
and Life was ordered to dismount them, while Deck marched with Butters
and his command in single file into the woods on the left of the road.
On this side of the by-path the dividing-line between the meadow and
the woods extended due north about a quarter of a mile to a point
beyond which the stream and the low ground reached nearly to the main
road.
"I want to see the enemy," said Butters. "I can't station my men till I
can see what they are to fire at."
"Then we must go nearer to the meadow," replied Deck, as the lieutenant
of the riflemen halted his command, and he led the way, both of them
keeping behind the trees.
A change in the situation greeted the vision of Lieutenant Lyon as he
reached a position where he could see the stream and the enemy.
"The Confederates have dismounted!" exclaimed Deck, as he pointed to
the enemy for the benefit of his companion.
"So much the better!" added Butters.
"Of course they intend to attack the escort of the train on foot," said
Deck. "All the men of the company are not yet out of the water; but
they are marching by fours, with their carbines unslung, and they will
fire as soon as they get near enough. I must leave you now, Lieutenant
Butters, to bring my men forward," and the lieutenant hastened back to
the road.
Butters ran to the left of his line, and marched his force, with the
thirtieth man at his side, or next behind him, nearly to the point of
the forest, where he stationed the one with the highest number, and
then one in reverse order, about six feet apart, till the first number
was stationed within a rod of the by-road. He had measured the distance
very well, for the centre of his line was a few rods from opposite to
the enemy.
Deck was at the end of the road when Butters reached it. He was ordered
to fire as soon as he was ready. He had told the men when they were
placed to fire as soon as the one on his right had done so. With this
rule, no two or more of the riflemen would aim at the same trooper, as
they could not fail to do in a volley. The first four of the enemy,
with two officers on their left, were moving toward the mired
wagon-train.
Milton had by this time reached the escort, and delivered the
commander's message. The force had ceased their labors, and placed
themselves behind the wagons, though they had their muskets ready for
use. The enemy marched without difficulty, for the sod where it had not
been broken was tough enough to bear them up; but in places the
wandering cattle had cut it up very badly.
Butters in a low tone gave his orders to the first man in the line to
fire, and every one would do the same, down to the thirtieth man,
without any further command; but he had his rifle in his hand, and he
fired himself before he gave the order to the soldier on his left. The
crack of rifles began, and followed each other in rapid succession.
With the fourth discharge five men had fallen, including the foremost
of the two officers on the flank, whom Butters had brought down
himself.
Apparently not one of the sharpshooters missed his aim. They adopted
the method used in the battle on the hill, and kept behind the trees,
so that the enemy could see only the puff of smoke as each weapon was
discharged, and the men were out of sight, or nearly so. Not less than
twenty men had dropped, either killed or wounded. The sharpshooters
were Kentucky riflemen, whose fame had been celebrated in story and
song, and their weapon had been their plaything from their earliest
years.
Suddenly a hoarse command was heard; but its meaning could not be made
out till the men in column dropped upon the ground, and extended
themselves at full length, with their feet directed towards the woods.
At the same time another order was given nearer to the stream, and the
troopers in the water began to remount their horses. The men in the
meadow began to crawl back as hurriedly as possible to the brook. The
troopers hurried their horses as much as they could in the water, and
their progress was tolerably rapid.
The stream continued to extend at about an equal distance from the
forest. The men on the ground continued to drag themselves like snakes
on the sod of the meadow till they reached the water, and mounted their
horses; but not a few of them were shot in their progress, though their
position on the ground was not favorable to the aim of the riflemen.
Deck saw that the enemy would soon be out of the reach of the rifles if
they continued to follow the creek, and he ordered Butters to move his
men to the left.
Butters sent the command down the line from man to man till it reached
the thirtieth man, who led the file to the point. The riflemen
continued to fire as fast as they could load their weapons, but still
in the order designated at first. Butters at his first shot after the
change of position had brought down the lieutenant in command near the
head of the column; and he believed the captain of the company had been
the first to fall by the ball from his rifle on the meadow.
The men dropped rapidly under the fire of the concealed riflemen, and
an officer who had taken the place of the one near the head of the
column in the water was evidently appalled by the havoc in the command.
He shouted an order to his men, which could not be understood in the
woods; but it was inferred when the men suddenly dismounted, and began
to lead their animals, placing them between themselves and the forest.