MORE OF THE BATTLE.
While Tom and his little command were working their way back to the Union
lines, followed up by the disorganized band of rebels, a series of most
unearthly yells swept over the field, for they had emerged from the woods.
It was the rallying cry of the Confederate regiment which had formed in
their rear. They were charging upon the Massachusetts --th; but they might
as well have charged upon the Rock of Gibraltar, for presently Tom was
delighted to see them retiring before the tremendous onslaught of his
friends.
"Hurrah!" shouted he, forgetting the foe in his rear, and pressing forward
to that on his front, at the same time changing his course so as to
approach the right wing of the rebel regiment.
"Don't be rash, Tom," said the old soldier, who never permitted the
sergeant to leave his side.
"Follow me, boys!" roared Tom, breathless with excitement, as he started
off on the double quick towards the breaking lines of the enemy.
"Here we are!" replied the gallant fellows behind him, pushing forward
with a zeal equal to that of their leader, from whom they derived their
inspiration. "Go in, sergeant, and we'll stand by you."
But the bold soldier boy had discretion as well as gallantry; and he saw
that if he threw his little force upon the rebel line, the whole party
would be instantly annihilated. A covert of bushes fortunately lay on the
right flank of the retreating regiment, and Tom ordered his men to conceal
themselves behind it, until a favorable moment should arrive to take their
places in the lines.
The men were glad enough to obtain a breathing spell; but, at such a
tremendous moment as that, idleness would have been treason, for such a
glorious opportunity to strike a heavy blow had not before occurred.
"Load up, and fire at will," said Tom, as he charged his musket. "Don't
throw your lead away either."
"We are a dead shot here if we are any where," added Hapgood, as he and
the rest of the party hastily loaded their muskets.
Pop went Tom's piece first, and over went the rebel at the extreme right
of the rebel regiment. There was no such thing as missing the mark, for
they were on the flank of the Confederate line, which the united efforts
of the officers could hardly preserve. The men in the covert fired when
they were ready; and as they carefully observed the injunction of Tom not
to waste their lead, every shot told upon the rebels.
The Confederate officers glanced nervously at the clump of bushes, which
glowed with flashes of fire as the sergeant's little command poured in
their volleys; but they were too closely pressed by the Federals in front
to attempt to dislodge them. The rebel privates were not long in
ascertaining what was so clear to their officers--that they were flanked,
and were being shot down like sheep, from a quarter where they could not
defend themselves. They had been slowly and doggedly retiring before the
advancing Federals, disputing every inch of ground; but when they realized
that the bolts of death were dropping among them from another direction,
they could no longer endure that awful suspense which takes possession of
the minds of men when they are suspended, as it were, between life and
death.
Tom saw them waver, and he knew what it meant. The rebel line was just
abreast of him, and he had seen at least a score of men fall before the
deadly fire of his party.
"Give it to them, boys! They shake!" shouted Tom, as he delivered his fire
again. "Pour in as fast as you can, but don't waste your powder."
The men redoubled their exertions, and the rapidity of their fire was
sensibly increased. The effect was soon perceptible in the rebel ranks;
for the right of the line, probably supposing a company, if not a whole
regiment, of sharp-shooters was concealed in the covert, suddenly broke
and fled with the utmost precipitation, in spite of the gallant efforts of
their officers to rally them.
The Federal regiment instantly took advantage of this partial panic, and
charged furiously upon the rebel line. A desperate hand-to-hand encounter
ensued, during which Tom and his companions emerged from their
concealment, and ran along the rear of the victorious line. They soon
satisfied themselves of what they had before believed--that the regiment
was their own; and they lost no time in finding the company to which they
belonged. They joined in the pursuit, which soon ended in the utter rout
of the rebel force.
The position of the enemy's lines did not permit them to follow the
advantage to any great extent, and the order was soon given to fall back.
At this juncture the regiment, which had been constantly engaged for
several hours, was relieved; and not too early in the day, for the men
were completely exhausted by the furious onslaughts they had made.
"Who were those men in the bushes on the flank of the rebel regiment?"
demanded the colonel, as he reined up his jaded horse in front of Company
K.
"Sergeant Somers and others," replied Captain Benson.
"Somers again!" exclaimed the colonel.
"Yes, sir. They pursued the regiment into the woods--the one that showed
the flag of truce--till they were separated from the rest of us."
"Forward, Sergeant Somers," added the colonel.
Tom modestly stepped forward, and he would have blushed if his face had
not been so reddened by his previous exertions as to leave no room for a
deepening of its tint.
"You did a big thing, Sergeant Somers. You broke that rebel line by your
steady fire. Sergeant Somers, I thank you and the men you commanded for
your good service."
Tom bowed, and the regiment cheered. It was the proudest moment of his
life to be thanked on the field, while the guns were roaring and the
musketry rattling, for the good service he had rendered. It would form an
excellent paragraph for his letter to Lilian Ashford, especially as he had
more than once, in the perils of that exciting hour, thought of the socks
he wore, and of the letter and the photograph which nestled in his breast
pocket, and upon which his quick throbbing heart was beating the notes of
glory and victory.
"We gave you up for lost," said Captain Benson, as Tom returned to the
line.
"We are safe, thank God!" replied Tom, "though three of our number fell in
the woods, or on the field where we were chased by the rebels."
"Sergeant Somers saved us," added uncle Hapgood. "If he hadn't been as
cool as cowcumber, and as stiff as the mainmast of a frigate, we should
have been taken, every one of us."
"Bravo, Tom!" said the captain.
"The men stood by me like heroes, or it would have been all up with the
whole of us. They are good fellows, and they deserve as much credit as I
do."
The battle continued to rage with increasing fury, till the roar, and the
crash, and the sweep of armed legions beggared description. Regiments and
brigades advanced and fell back with the varying fortunes of the day, but
as yet there was nothing to indicate the final result.
When the men of our regiment had recovered their breath, an order came for
them to proceed to the left. On their arrival at the position assigned to
them, they were immediately led to the front, where the batteries which
had been pouring a hot fire into the enemy were in imminent danger of
being surrounded. Indeed, the swoop of the rebel infantry upon the guns
had already been made, and the cannoneers had been driven from their
stations. With the colonel on the right, and the adjutant in command on
the left, the regiment charged upon the foe, as it had twice before
charged on that eventful day, with an enthusiasm bordering upon fury.
The rebels had even spiked one of the guns, and they maintained their
position with an obstinacy which promised the annihilation of one or the
other of the contending forces. A desperate strife ensued, in which the
least perceptible advantage was gained by the Federals. But if they could
do no more, they held the enemy in check, till the gunners could charge
their pieces with grape and canister, which they poured into the rebels
with the most deadly effect.
"Hurrah!" shouted Tom, as the rebels quaked before the withering storm of
shot belched forth by the guns of the battery. "They shake! Give it to
them!"
"Steady, my men! steady," said Captain Benson. "The ammunition of the
battery is expended," he added, as the cannon ceased their work of
destruction. "We must hold these pieces, and every man must do his duty."
"Ay, ay, sir!" replied Tom, vigorously, and the cry was repeated through
the company.
As soon as the guns were thus rendered useless, the enemy swept down upon
the supports again, intent upon capturing the pieces. They advanced with
that terrific yell which is enough of itself to frighten a nervous man,
and with an impetuosity which nothing human could resist. Our regiment
recoiled under the shock; but it was forced back by the sheer stress of
numbers.
"Rally men! Rally, my brave fellows!" shouted the adjutant, in command of
the left wing.
"Stand stiff! Roll them back!" roared the colonel.
"Steady, men!" added Captain Benson.
"Now, give it to them!" screamed Tom, as he plunged his bayonet into the
vitals of the rebel in front of him, and pushed forward into the very
midst of the foe.
The sergeant seemed suddenly to be endowed with the strength of a giant,
and he held his own till Hapgood sprang to his assistance. The rest of the
line, inspired by this daring conduct, rushed forward, and fell upon the
foe with a fury that could not be resisted.
"Bravo! Bravo, Tom!" shouted the captain. "Go in, boys!" roared the
lieutenant.
And the boys "went in," and forced back the rebel line, and held the guns
until another battery with a supply of ammunition arrived upon the ground
to relieve them. The enemy was again repulsed, and the guns were saved by
the unflinching heroism of our gallant Massachusetts regiment--another
paragraph for the letter to Lilian Ashford.