THE BATTLE
Noel Curtis was standing in front of the colonel's tent listening to the
word of that anxious officer, who in response to the request of the
chaplain was showing the young soldiers the pardon received from the
President.
It was in Noel's mind to inquire concerning the fate of Levi. His own
feeling about accepting the pardon which had been offered was unchanged,
but in company with Dennis he had gone to the colonel's tent at the
suggestion of the chaplain, and with interest was listening to the words
of that officer.
Suddenly the clatter of hoofs was heard, and as the men turned sharply
about to ascertain the cause, they saw an orderly approaching with the
information that the division at once was to advance.
Hastily positions were assigned to Dennis and Noel, who were to report
with one of the New York regiments, and the marching orders speedily put
other thoughts from their minds.
Almost before the men realized what had taken place, they found
themselves marching along a dusty road with the air cool and the
confidence of the leaders manifest in many ways that appealed to the
boys in blue. Naturally there were rumors of the battle which was
expected, but so many similar reports had been current that some of
their power to arouse the interest of the army was gone.
Several times the excitement of the advancing troops was increased by
the sight of little squads of rebel prisoners that had been taken by the
cavalry skirmishing in advance.
One picture appealed with special force to Noel. The horses of the
officers of late had fared poorly at the hands of the quartermaster, and
now, as the troops halted near a barn, Noel saw several of the
half-starved animals within the building enjoying the first oats they
had received for days.
As Noel glanced behind him he saw a long column of troops winding around
the summit of the mountain over which he and his comrades had just
passed. The muskets of the men were glistening in the sunlight. The
lines resembled a mighty coil of armed men extending far down the side
of the mountain. Indeed, far beyond the place where Noel was standing,
it could be seen, and was lost to view only by the winding of the road
in the distance. It was the finest view of a marching army he had ever
had.
In the loft of the barn were a score or more of Confederates. Some of
these unfortunate men were sick, others had been wounded in the recent
cavalry skirmishes, and had been left by their comrades as they had
fallen back before the advance of the boys in blue. A guard or two was
attending to their wants, but every man as he peered out of the windows
seemed wan and pale, and the marks of the many privations and the heavy
fatigue to which they had been exposed were plain on every side.
The farmer, near whose barn the line had halted, explained that a large
body of the rebels had passed his house not long before. The men were
ill-clothed and seemed to be in want, he explained. The report of the
man, however, did not deceive any of the Yankee soldiers. They were well
aware that the "Johnnies" were fierce fighters, and in spite of their
scarcity of food and clothing were standing up bravely and persistently.
It was Dennis one time who made the remark that "these men might not be
inspired of God, but they certainly were possessed of the divil."
Neither of the young soldiers dreamed of the fearful events which were
soon to follow. Whether prejudice or ignorance, truth or falsehood, were
behind the struggle, there was no question about the tremendous
earnestness of both armies.
The Union army, when it entered the little city of Frederick, was
surprised as well as delighted at the ovation which it received from
many of the people. Shouts and songs and cheers greeted their arrival
and continued during their march through the city.
In the doorways of some of the houses girls and young women stood with
pails of clear, sparkling water. Many of these enthusiastic girls held
glasses in their extended hands inviting the thirsty and dust-covered
soldiers to drink.
It was Dennis who said glibly to Noel, when a halt was made beyond the
limits of the town, "I can't for the life of me tell what made me so
thirsty this afternoon. I think I must have stopped a dozen times for a
drink of water."
"Yes, I noticed it," said Noel demurely. "I have never seen anything
like this dust. No, and it doesn't seem as if the dust was all that was
new, either."
"There's one thing I don't see, though," said Dennis.
"What's that?"
"I don't see any of the big bugs, like the others, standing in the
doorways and giving water to our boys as they passed."
"I'm not surprised at that. I don't suppose the people who have money or
own slaves can be very enthusiastic over our coming down here to set
their slaves free or destroy their property."
"Indade, and I niver once thought o' that," said Dennis.
Near sunset the army halted again, and, wearied by their long march,
many of the men flung themselves upon the dust-covered grass by the
roadside or underneath the projecting branches of some large trees, and
sought a short respite from their labors.
The day was Sunday the 14th of September, 1862. To Noel, his thoughts at
such a time naturally recalled the manner in which the day was spent in
his far-away home. There all was peace and quiet. About him now,
however, were armed men and officers riding past and cannon were being
dragged up the dusty road. All these things presented a striking
contrast to his vision of peace and quiet.
Noel saw that every one of his comrades was sleeping, not even being
aroused by the passing of a body of cavalry or by the stamping of the
horses of their officers.
He, too, was about to place his knapsack upon the ground for a pillow
when, glancing up the road, to his surprise he saw Dennis running toward
him, dragging in his hand a large fallen branch of a tree.
That the young Irishman was about to perpetrate some prank Noel was
convinced. Dennis was simply irrepressible. The fatigues of the day, or
the thoughts of the battle, in which it was commonly believed the army
was about to enter, did not seem to check the exuberant spirits of
Dennis O'Hara.
As he approached the place where Noel was seated, suddenly the young
Irishman swiftly entered the road and, stamping loudly upon the ground,
began to run close to the place where many of the soldiers were
sleeping.
Adding to the confusion, Dennis began to shout, "Whoa! Whoa, there!
Whoa!" He did not check his own advance, however, and running swiftly,
dragged the branch he was carrying over the bodies and faces of some of
the sleeping men.
Instantly every one of the soldiers who had felt the touch of the
sweeping branch or heard the sound of Dennis's voice sat erect, and
then, convinced that a body of horsemen were trampling upon them,
quickly leaped to their feet and ran from the place. In spite of their
weariness a shout greeted the prank of Dennis and caused the young
Irishman to laugh loudly.
"They make me think," said Dennis, "of the old sport who took his gun
and traveled two days over the brakes and ferns and up and down the
mountains huntin' for a bear. Just at the close of the second day he
found the footprints of the old fellow and pretty soon afterward he
heard a growl from a rocky ledge that was too close to him for comfort.
The man stopped and scratched his head, and turnin' to his brother, who
was close behind him, he said, 'Now, look out! These tracks are gettin'
a little fresh! I believe I don't want any bear after all, so I'll go
back home.' It's a lot of brave men we have been hearin' talk about
comin' up to the front and drivin' the Johnnies through every gap in
these mountains, but whin a poor harmless boy comes along and shakes a
branch of a tree over thim, they are all so scared they don't even stop
to find out whether 'tis a Yank or a Reb that's chasin' thim."
It was not long before the march was resumed. The turnpike over which
the soldiers moved was broad and smooth, and as the men passed through
the rolling country its contrast with that which they had seen in their
campaign in the Peninsula was marked by every one.
At the next halt the chaplain, who had proved himself such a warm friend
to both of the young soldiers, approached the place where the two boys
were seated by the roadside.
"That's General Burnside and his staff over yonder," he explained to
Noel. "General Hooker is to lead our division."
"There's going to be a battle surely, isn't there?" inquired Noel.
"I think there is no doubt of it," replied the chaplain, "and I have a
strange feeling about this engagement. I know I shall be shot."
"Nonsense!" protested Noel.
"But I shall be. I was shot when I was on the Peninsula almost the first
chance I got. I was only slightly wounded there, but this time I shall
be killed. I know it."
"Shure, 'tis only a foolish notion that's got into your head," protested
Dennis. "Get rid of it, yer Riverence! Cheer up! Shure, you'll come out
all right."
"I wish I might think so. If I fall I shall fall doing my duty."
"Niver a doubt about that. Every man of us knows that you won't be shot
in the back."
The kind-hearted man soon passed on, but the impression he had made upon
the mind of Noel was one which the boy was unable to shake off. He, too,
was fearful of the coming contest. He was doing his utmost to repress
the feeling and was striving hard to hold himself to the line which had
been mapped out for him.
Apparently there were no rebel battalions now threatening the passage.
No cannon warned the advancing army from the narrow entrance between the
hills which they were approaching. These hills on either side of the
pass now were crowned with the glories of the approaching sunset. A few
clouds were seen in the sky, and in the distance occasional quick rushes
of smoke-puffs arose just above the trees and then the sight was
followed by the sound of a heavy boom.
Far to the left there were other puffs, and as they were faintly seen in
the distance there were quick responses from the Union artillery.
"Shure," muttered Dennis, "the artillery is beyond and with the help of
the infantry they'll drive the Johnnies out o' the way."
A rattle of musketry only faintly heard confirmed the words of the young
Irish soldier.
Above them and beyond were forests. Unseen foes without doubt were
lurking within the shelter of the great trees. Even now the opposing
armies might be preparing to rush madly against each other. Somehow the
smooth white turnpike began to lose its peaceful aspect in the eyes of
Noel Curtis.
The toiling soldiers, climbing a steep ascent now, were soon aware that
between them and the main ascent of South Mountain was an extensive
valley.
There were sharp calls from the officers, the line of march was changed
from the open turnpike, and the men approached a cornfield upon the
hillside.
In the midst of the passage through the field suddenly the great guns of
the Confederates opened upon the line with solid shot. Down the hill
dashed the army, then swiftly crossing the little valley, began the
steady climb of the mountain-side.
A few yards from the base of the mountain was a fence. Below the fence
the ground was cleared, while above it the face of the mountain was
covered with rocks and trees.
Steadily and surely the boys in blue advanced, and when they had arrived
within fifty yards of the place they were seeking, a rapid fire of
musketry was opened upon them by the Confederates, who lay concealed
behind the fence.
Bullets whistled about their ears. There were shouts and calls from the
leaders and loud and prolonged cheers from their willing followers. With
a wild shout the men dashed forward. Indeed, their course was almost
upward, so steep was the ascent. Volley after volley was poured in upon
them, but as yet the brave boys did not heed them and still rushed madly
forward.
The Confederates, astonished by the recklessness and the apparent
disregard of their bullets, began to give way. Successfully the
advancing soldiers gained the fence and then instantly sprang over it.
To their surprise, however, their enemies re-formed among the rocks and
renewed the fight with unshaken determination.
It was at this time that the chaplain, who had shown his friendship for
the boys, accompanied by a young lieutenant, was just springing over the
fence when a bullet struck him and he fell back upon the ground.