[Illustration: 9130]
HE summer {122}of 1862 was hot and dry. Streams were parched, the grass
was brown and burned. The army trailed through the dust, and lay down at
night footsore, weary and sick. Often the only water they had to
drink was supplied by “brackish” ponds, whose surface was covered with
greenish slime. Fevers and malaria broke out among the regiments, and
dissatisfaction was loud and outspoken. Now and then a brush would
take place, or a skirmishing party would sally out, surprise a party of
Confederates, bringing some of them into camp prisoners.
“Knapsacks and rations ready by seven in the morning!” Fred Greene said,
one September afternoon as they were watching eagerly and impatiently
for some move to be made. .
“Sure its not another of your jokes, corporal?”
“No joke this time, as you'll find to your sorrow, perhaps.”
“How many days' rations are we to carry along?”
“Can't say. We're going out to interview General Lee. His victory at
Manassas the other day has given him the idea that he can bring the
whole State of Maryland into his army. He's traveling in that direction.
He has a poster out inviting the Marylanders to enlist, but by all we
hear, it won't bring many valuable accessions to his ranks.”
“Why not?”
“For two reasons. If they want to enlist, they'll do so, without his
starting recruiting offices. Most of the able-bodied men who wanted to
go to war did so long since. Then again, most of the Marylanders are
fond of the old flag. The State has never left the Union. General Lee is
a fine military man, but he {123}surely don't understand the people he's
trying to interest. Hallo! what's a woman doing here? She's coming this
way.”
A woman, dressed in cheap, but neat and tidy-looking clothing, and
holding the hands of two sad-eyed, poorly attired children, was making
her way toward them. A soldier stepped up to her, and with a pleasant
smile asked her if she was looking for any one.
[Illustration: 9131]
The woman looked earnestly into his face, as she said--“You'uns all look
kind. Can you show me whar to find Peter Hall?”
The man looked puzzled, and uncertain as to how to answer her.
“Don't know him, ma'am. What regiment is he in?”
“I can't tell you, sir. He is my man, and he 'lowed he wouldn't go
against the old flag, for any one. The neighbors said he was a traitor
to the cause, and wouldn't give him any work. So he went off in the
night, and told me he'd make his way into the Union army, and as soon as
he could he'd send me word whar he was. He 'lowed I could take care of
the babies somehow, but I've found it mighty hard work to get bread for
'em often. They're good children, though, no better nowhar, and they
don't complain, not even when they're hungry. I heard you'uns were in
the neighborhood, and I thought as perhaps you'd know whar my Peter is.”
“Boys!” the soldier cried to a group who were listening at a little
distance. “Do any of you know Pete Hall?”
“_Peter_ Hall,” the woman corrected, with great dignity.
“Excuse {124}me, ma'am; _Peter_ Hall, I meant to say.”
“Why, certain, I know him,” a man answered. “He's in the Second
Maryland, and they're over there, on the brow of that hill. Go right
over, ma'am. You'll find him, I hope,” he added in a lower tone. “Don't
be afraid. No one will harm you.”
“Me and the children have walked twelve miles since yesterday noon,
and we want to see Peter bad. He'd have come out and met us, I know he
would, if he'd have thought we were so near,” she added, with refreshing
simplicity. The idea of Peter's leaving his company, even for so
important a matter as meeting her, caused a general laugh, which she did
not seem to observe, but continued--“You see, we have moved since Peter
went away, and he doesn't know where we live now.”
“God bless the woman and her Peter,” was the honest invocation sent
after her, as she hurried away in the direction pointed out, and they
were rewarded a few moments later, by seeing a soldier spring up from
the grass where he had been lounging, and hasten forward to receive
the greeting of his wife, who sobbed for joy upon his breast, while the
little ones could only jump and shout in the fullness of their pleasure
at seeing “Pa.”
Many a man stood there, and silently wished some of their loved ones
could meet and greet them also.
The entrance of the boys in blue into Frederick was a perfect ovation.
General Lee had retired from the town only two days before.
This welcome thrilled their hearts. From every door and window the
national flag fluttered, and the stores were decorated with the colors.
Banners were strung across the streets, from house to house, while
crowds of happy men and women with radiant faces, spoke words of
welcome.
Good luck seemed to be showered upon them, for General McClellan here
captured a copy of the orders of General Lee, which gave him a key to
the whole situation. It was of very recent date, and the Confederate
commander had mapped out his campaign. The {125}information contained in
these explicit instructions to his generals, enabled General McClellan
to see plainly how to thwart General Lee. So he proceeded to send two
corps through the two Gaps of South Mountain, with the prospect of being
able to cut the enemy's forces to pieces.
[Illustration: 9133]
Dividing his command, General McClellan ordered Franklin to Crampton's
Gap, while Reno and Hooker, with Burnside at their head, were sent to
Turner's Gap.
It was a toilsome task for even those sturdy men to ascend the sides of
the Gaps. South Mountain towered a thousand feet above them, while the
most accessible points were the two Gaps, each nearly 400 feet high.
“We've got to reach the top of those hills somehow,” Ralph said. “But
it's one step forward, and three backward. Our men are gaining a little.
They show splendid pluck.” Clambering, toiling up the rocky hillsides,
the Union forces made their painful way. From behind ledges and trees,
the rebel riflemen marked their slow progress, and sent many a man
to his death. The company to which Ralph belonged was under Reno, and
assaulted the southern crest of Turner's Gap. On the northern crest of
the mountain General Hooker, with splendid courage, kept on.
{126}
[Illustration: 0134]
Ralph now realized how desperately men will fight. He even felt that hot
hatred which two foes ever feel, when pitted against each other. He saw
the Federal army, scratched and bruised from forcing their way through
the brush and over rocks, while the Confederate riflemen poured bullets
into their midst like {127}rain. Hot, and panting with their efforts,
still they never wavered. Gibbon, with his brigade, was trying to force
a passage through the turnpike in the Gap, and here also the enemy did
terrible execution. The heat was blistering. The fervid rays of the
September sun burned into their very blood, and the dust which rose in
clouds mixed with the smoke of the powder, and choked and blinded them.
[Illustration: 9135]
They had fought continuously the entire day. Their canteens were
empty--their mouths parched and dry. Ralph saw a tall officer spur his
horse forward, and fire at General Reno. That gallant soldier reeled in
his saddle, and fell, but as he was borne to the rear to die, his eyes
were fixed on the men he had so gallantly led, with a last look of
farewell.
This contest was long. Each side fought to the death. As Ralph turned
to speak to a companion he heard a wild shout: “Forward! One more such
charge, and we'll have the Gap.”
It was the colonel's voice, and as he rose in his saddle and cheered
them on, they took fresh courage. Wild responses answered his appeal,
and new strength was given them.
“We are sure of victory,” Ralph said to himself, At that instant a horse
dashed madly by. He bore General Garland, of the Confederate force,
who was lying half across his back, as he was vainly striving to raise
himself in the saddle. His hat rolled down the hill as he came to the
ground with a shock; his fine features were distorted with pain, and his
long, dark hair was dabbled with blood. He made one frantic effort to
recover {128}his sword, which had slid from his grasp, and then he sank
half on his knees, a livid corpse. Ralph was so near he could almost
have touched him, and to his dying day, he never forgot the look of
agony on the wan face, as the eyes fast glazed in death.
Darkness settled down upon the earth, before the battle was won, by the
Confederates withdrawing and leaving the Union forces masters of the
field. But what a sacrifice of human life!--three thousand human beings
sent into eternity, as the result of one day's conflict.
The loss of life was felt equally by the two opposing forces; but
the boys in gray suffered a loss of fifteen hundred, who were taken
prisoners.
The night was warm. The stars looked down with kindly gleams upon
thousands of worn-out soldiers sleeping as quietly as little children,
while the wounded were groaning with pain, as the life-blood slowly
trickled over the grass which the hot sun and the trampling of feet and
stamping of horses had matted into a tangled and brown mass.
Ralph's captain threw himself down by the side of the boy, as he was
trying to shut out the dreadful pictures which were burned upon his
brain.
“Is the victory ours?” he asked.
“It is, and a dear one to us,” the captain replied. “We have left over
a thousand dead upon the field; but the Johnnies have moved off, and we
have orders to push on to the western side of the mountain. They raked
us down in terrible fashion, but the men stood their fire like statues.
There was some heavy firing over at the other Gap a while back, but
it has stopped now. Hallo!” he called to a man in the uniform of
an officer, “where are you going in such a hurry? Has anything
happened--any new move ahead?”
The man stopped suddenly, and coming up close to them, with features
convulsed and pallid, with either pain or fear, he made answer:
“Oh, captain, I'm sure I'll die, I'm in such misery. I'm all doubled
{129}up, and can't sleep. I'm in perfect agony. There--there goes that
twinge again. I must try and find my regiment, and hunt up the doctor
right away.”
Ralph looked incredulous at the man's apparent suffering. He felt sure
it was a pretense. “It's strange that he's so far away from his command,
and going in an exactly opposite direction. Can it be that he's going
to skip?” This was a painful thought, and brought an angry flush to his
brow, for he held nothing in such scorn, amounting to abhorrence, as he
did cowardice or dishonesty.
“Are you going in the right direction to join your company? If you
keep on the way you are faced, you'll be more than likely to find some
friendly boy in gray to snap you up.”
The officer looked steadily at him a moment, while his face turned
scarlet.
“Your advice is not required, sir. I shall remember your incivility at a
more fitting time.” And he stalked away, quite oblivious of the anguish
that had racked him so short a time before.
“That fellow must be a mind-reader,” laughed the captain. “He plainly
knew what you thought about him. But seriously, your opinion was rather
harsh; he's probably shamming to get excused from duty. For the honor
of our cause I should hope no officer would be guilty of such dastardly
conduct. Nor a private, either,” he added, a moment after, “for the
boys who carry the muskets have true grit, and don't run, only after the
enemy.”
“I know that's so, but when I saw him making such haste to get away, the
suspicion would come into my mind. To me it seems a shame for a man with
a spark of cowardice to wear a uniform.”