Dick, who had been lying under cover just behind the crest of one of
the low ridges, suddenly heard the loud beating of his heart. He did not
know, for a moment or two, that the sound came so distinctly because the
mighty tumult which had been raging around him all day had ceased, as
if by a concerted signal. Those blinding flashes of flame no longer
came from the forest before him, the shot and shell quit their horrible
screaming, and the air was free from the unpleasant hiss of countless
bullets.
He stretched himself a little and stood up. The lads all around him
were standing up, and were beginning to talk to each other in the
high-pitched, shouting voices that they had been compelled to use all
day long, not yet realizing to the full that the tumult of the battle
had ceased. The boy felt stiff and sore in every bone and muscle, and,
although the cannon and rifles were silent, there was still a hollow
roaring in his ears. His eyes were yet dim from the smoke, and his head
felt heavy and dull. He gazed vacantly at the forest in front of him,
and wondered dimly why the Southern army was not still there, attacking,
as it had attacked for so many hours.
But the deep woods were silent and empty. Coils and streamers of smoke
floated about among the trees, and suddenly a gray squirrel hopped out
on a bough and began to chatter wildly. Dick, despite himself, laughed,
but the laugh was hysterical. He could appreciate the feelings of the
squirrel, which probably had been imprisoned in a hollow of the tree all
day long, listening to this tremendous battle, and squirrels were
not used to such battles. It was a trifle that made him laugh, but
everything was out of proportion now. Life did not go on in the usual
way at all. The ordinary occupations were gone, and people spent most of
their time trying to kill one another.
He rubbed his hands across his eyes and cleared them of the smoke. The
battle was certainly over for the day at least, and neither he nor
his comrades had sufficient vitality yet to think of the morrow. The
twilight was fast deepening into night. The last rosy glow of the sun
faded, and thick darkness enveloped the vast forest, in which twenty
thousand men had fallen, and in which most of them yet lay, the wounded
with the dead.
There was presently a deep boom from the river, and a shell fired by one
of the gunboats curved far over their heads and dropped into the forest,
where the Southern army was encamped. All through the night and at
short but regular intervals the gunboats maintained this warning fire,
heartening the Union soldiers, and telling them at every discharge that
however they might have to fight for the land, the water was always
theirs.
Dick saw Colonel Winchester going among his men, and pulling himself
together he saluted his chief.
“Any orders, sir?” he said.
“No, Dick, my boy, none for the present,” replied the colonel, a little
sadly. “Half of my poor regiment is killed or wounded, and the rest
are so exhausted that they are barely able to move. But they fought
magnificently, Dick! They had to, or be crushed! It is only here that
we have withstood the rush of the Southern army, and it is probable that
we, too, would have gone had not night come to our help.”
“Then we have been beaten?”
“Yes, Dick, we have been beaten, and beaten badly. It was the surprise
that did it. How on earth we could have let the Southern army creep upon
us and strike unaware I don't understand. But Dick, my boy, there will
be another battle tomorrow, and it may tell a different tale. Some
prisoners whom we have taken say that Johnston has been killed, and
Beauregard is no such leader as he.”
“Will the army of General Buell reach us tonight?”
“Buell, himself, is here. He has been with Grant for some time, and all
his brigades are marching at the double quick. Lew Wallace arrived
less than half an hour ago with seven thousand men fresh and eager for
battle. Dick! Dick, my boy, we'll have forty thousand new troops on the
field at the next dawn, and before God we'll wipe out the disgrace of
today! Listen to the big guns from the boats as they speak at intervals!
Why, I can understand the very words they speak! They are saying to the
Southern army: 'Look out! Look out! We're coming in the morning, and
it's we who'll attack now!'”
Dick saw that Colonel Winchester himself was excited. The pupils of his
eyes were dilated, and a red spot glowed in either cheek. Like all the
other officers he was stung by the surprise and defeat, and he could
barely wait for the morning and revenge.
Colonel Winchester walked away to a council that had been called, and
Dick turned to Pennington and Warner, who were not hurt, save for slight
wounds. Warner had recovered his poise, and was soon as calm and dry as
ever.
“Dick,” he said, “we're some distance from where we started this
morning. There's nothing like being shoved along when you don't want to
go. The next time they tell me there's nothing in a thicket I expect to
search it and find a rebel army at least a hundred thousand strong right
in the middle of it.”
“How large do you suppose the Southern army was?” asked Pennington.
“I had a number of looks at it,” replied Warner, “and I should say from
the way it acted that it numbered at least three million men. I know
that at times not less than ten thousand were aiming their rifles at my
own poor and unworthy person. What a waste of energy for so many men to
shoot at me all at once. I wish the Johnnies would go away and let us
alone!”
The last words were high-pitched and excited. His habitual self-control
broke down for a moment, and the tremendous excitement and nervous
tension of the day found vent in his voice. But in a few seconds he
recovered himself and looked rather ashamed.
“Boys,” he said, “I apologize.”
“You needn't,” said Pennington. “There have been times today when I felt
brave as a lion, and lots of other times I was scared most to death.
It would have helped me a lot then, if I could have opened my mouth and
yelled at the top of my voice.”
Sergeant Daniel Whitley was leaning against a stump, and while he was
calmly lighting a pipe he regarded the three boys with a benevolent
gaze.
“None of you need be ashamed of bein' scared,” he said. “I've been in a
lot of fights myself, though all of them were mere skirmishes when put
alongside of this, an' I've been scared a heap today. I've been scared
for myself, an' I've been scared for the regiment, an' I've been scared
for the whole army, an' I've been scared on general principles, but here
we are, alive an' kickin', an' we ought to feel powerful thankful for
that.”
“We are,” said Dick. Then he rubbed his head as if some sudden thought
had occurred to him.
“What is it, Dick?” asked Warner.
“I've realized all at once that I'm tremendously hungry. The
Confederates broke up our breakfast. We never had time to think of
dinner, and now its nothing to eat.”
“Me, too,” said Pennington. “If you were to hit me in the stomach I'd
give back a hollow sound like a drum. Why don't somebody ring the supper
bell?”
But fires were soon lighted along their whole front, and provisions were
brought up from the rear and from the steamers. The soldiers, feeling
their strength returning, ate ravenously. They also talked much of
the battle. Many of them were yet under the influence of hysterical
excitement. They told extraordinary stories of the things they had seen
and done, and they believed all they told were true. They ate fiercely,
at first almost like wolves, but after a while they resolved into their
true state as amiable young human beings and were ashamed of themselves.
All the while Buell's army of the Ohio was passing over the river and
joining Grant's army of the Tennessee. Regiment after regiment and
brigade after brigade crossed. The guns that Nelson had been forced to
leave behind were also brought up and were taken over with the other
batteries. While the shattered remnants of the army of the Tennessee
were resting, the fresh army of the Ohio was marching by it in the late
hours of the night in order to face the Southern foe in the morning.
The Southern army itself lay deep in the woods from which it had driven
its enemy. Always the assailant through the day, its losses had been
immense. Many thousands had fallen, and no new troops were coming to
take their place. Continual reinforcements came to the North throughout
the night, not a soldier came to the South. Beauregard, at dawn, would
have to face twice his numbers, at least half of whom were fresh troops.
Another conference was held by the Southern generals in the forest,
but now the central figure, the great Johnston, was gone. The others,
however, summoned their courage anew, and passed the whole night
arranging their forces, cheering the men, and preparing for the morn.
Their scouts and skirmishers kept watch on the Northern camp, and the
Southerners believed that while they had whipped only one army the day
before, they could whip two on the morrow.
Dick and his friends meanwhile were lying on the earth, resting, but not
able to sleep. The nerves, drawn so tightly by the day's work, were not
yet relaxed wholly. A deep apathy seized them all. Dick, from a high
point on which he lay, saw the dark surface of the Tennessee, and the
lights on the puffing steamers as they crossed, bearing the Army of the
Ohio. His mind did not work actively now, but he felt that they were
saved. The deep river, although it was on their flank, seemed to flow as
a barrier against the foe, and it was, in fact, a barrier more and more,
as without its command the second Union army could never have come to
the relief of the first.
Dick, after a while, saw Colonel Winchester, and other officers near
him. They were talking of their losses. They gave the names of many
generals and colonels who had been killed. Presently they moved away,
and he fell into an uneasy sleep, or rather doze, from which he was
awakened after a while by a heavy rumbling sound of a distant cannonade.
The boy sprang up, wondering why any one should wish to renew the battle
in the middle of the night, and then he saw that it was no battle. The
sound was thunder rolling heavily on the southern horizon, and the night
had become very dark. Vivid flashes of lightning cut the sky, and a
strong wind rushed among the trees. Heavy drops of water struck him in
the face and then the rain swept down.
Dick did not seek protection from the storm, nor did any of those near
him. The cool drops were grateful to their faces after the heat and
strife of the day. Their pulses became stronger, and the blood flowed
in a quickened torrent through their veins. They let it pour upon them,
merely seeking to keep their ammunition dry.
Ten thousand wounded were yet lying untouched in the forest, but the
rain was grateful to them, too. When they could they turned their
fevered faces up to it that it might beat upon them and bring grateful
coolness.
Deep in the night a council like that of the Southern generals was held
in the Northern camp, also. Grant, his face an expressionless mask,
presided, and said but little. Buell, Sherman, McClernand, Nelson,
Wallace and others, were there, and Buell and Sherman, like their chief,
spoke little. The three men upon whom most rested were very taciturn
that night, but it is likely that extraordinary thoughts were passing in
the minds of every one of the three.
Grant, after a day in which any one of a dozen chances would have
wrecked him, must have concluded that in very deed and truth he was the
favorite child of Fortune. When one is saved again and again from the
very verge he begins to believe that failure is impossible, and in that
very belief lies the greatest guard against failure.
It is said of Grant that in the night after his great defeat around the
church of Shiloh, he was still confident, that he told his generals
they would certainly win on the morrow, and he reminded them that if the
Union army had suffered terribly, the Southern army must have suffered
almost equally so, and would face them at dawn with numbers far less
than their own. He had not displayed the greatest skill, but he had
shown the greatest moral courage, and now on the night between battles
it was that quality that was needed most.
Dick, not having slept any the night before, and having passed through a
day of fierce battle, was overcome after midnight, and sank into a sleep
that was mere lethargy. He awoke once before dawn and remembered, but
vaguely, all that had happened. Yet he was conscious that there was much
movement in the forest. He heard the tread of many feet, the sound of
commands, the neigh of horses and the rumbling of cannon wheels. The
Army of the Ohio was passing to the exposed flank of the Army of the
Tennessee and at dawn it would all be in line. He also caught flitting
glimpses of the Tennessee, and of the steamers loaded with troops still
crossing, and he heard the boom of the heavy cannon on the gunboats
which still, at regular and short intervals, sent huge shells curving
into the forest toward the camp of the Southern army. He also saw near
him Warner and Pennington sound asleep on the ground, and then he sank
back into his own lethargic slumber.
He was awakened by the call of a trumpet, and, as he rose, he saw the
whole regiment or rather, what was left of it, rising with him. It
was not yet dawn, and a light rain was falling, but smoldering fires
disclosed the ground for some distance, and also the river on which the
gunboats and transports were now gathered in a fleet.
Colonel Winchester beckoned to him.
“All right this morning, Dick?” he said.
“Yes, sir; I'm ready for my duty.”
“And you, too, Warner and Pennington?”
“We are, sir,” they replied together.
“Then keep close beside me. I don't know when I may want you for a
message. Daybreak will be here in a half hour. The entire Army of the
Ohio, led by General Buell in person will be in position then or very
shortly afterward, and a new, and, we hope, a very different battle will
begin.”
Food and coffee were served to the men, and while the rain was still
falling they formed in line and awaited the dawn. The desire to retrieve
their fortunes was as strong among the farmer lads as it was among the
officers who took care to spread among them the statement that Buell's
army alone was as numerous as the Southern force, and probably more
numerous since their enemy must have sustained terrible losses. Thus
they stood patiently, while the rain thinned and the sun at last showed
a red edge through floating clouds.
They waited yet a little while longer, and then the boom of a heavy gun
in the forest told them that the enemy was advancing to begin the battle
afresh. Again it was the Southern army that attacked, although it was
no surprise now. Yet Beauregard and his generals were still sanguine
of completing the victory. Their scouts and skirmishers had failed to
discover that the entire army of Buell also was now in front of them.
Bragg was gathering his division on the left to hurl it like
a thunderbolt upon Grant's shattered brigades. Hardee and the
bishop-general were in the center, and Breckinridge led the right. But
as they moved forward to attack the Union troops came out to meet them.
Nelson had occupied the high ground between Lick and Owl Creeks, and his
and the Southern troops met in a fierce clash shortly after dawn.
Beauregard, drawn by the firing at that point, and noticing the courage
and tenacity with which the Northern troops held their ground, sending
in volley after volley, divined at once that these were not the beaten
troops of the day before, but new men. This swarthy general, volatile
and dramatic, nevertheless had great penetration. He understood on the
instant a fact that his soldiers did not comprehend until later. He knew
that the whole army of Buell was now before him.
For the moment it was Beauregard and Buell who were the protagonists,
instead of Grant and Johnston as on the day before. The Southern leader
gathered all his forces and hurled them upon Nelson. Weary though the
Southern soldiers were, their attack was made with utmost fire and
vigor. A long and furious combat ensued. A Southern division under
Cheatham rushed to the help of their fellows. Buell's forces were driven
in again and again, and only his heavy batteries enabled him to regain
his lost ground.
Buell led splendid troops that he had trained long and rigidly, and they
had not been in the conflict the day before. Fresh and with unbroken
ranks, not a man wounded or missing, they had entered the battle and
both Grant and Buell, as well as their division commanders, expected an
easy victory where the Army of the Ohio stood.
Buell, to his amazement, saw himself reduced to the defensive. He and
Grant had reckoned that the decimated brigades of the South could not
stand at all before him, but just as on the first day they came on with
the fierce rebel yell, hurling themselves upon superior numbers, taking
the cannon of their enemy, losing them, and retaking them and losing
them again, but never yielding.
The great conflict increased in violence. Buell, a man of iron courage,
saw that his soldiers must fight to the uttermost, not for victory only,
but even to ward off defeat. The dawn was now far advanced. The rain had
ceased, and the sun again shot down sheaves of fiery rays upon a vast
low cloud of fire and smoke in which thousands of men met in desperate
combat.
Nine o'clock came. It had been expected by Grant that Buell long before
that time would have swept everything before him. But for three hours
Buell had been fighting to keep himself from being swept away. The
Southern troops seemed animated by that extraordinary battle fever and
absolute contempt of death which distinguished them so often during this
war. Buell's army was driven in on both flanks, and only the center
held fast. It began to seem possible that the South, despite her reduced
ranks might yet defeat both Northern armies. Another battery dashed up
to the relief of the men in blue. It was charged at once by the men in
gray so fiercely that the gunners were glad to escape with their
guns, and once more the wild rebel yell of triumph swelled through the
southern forest.
Dick, standing with his comrades on one of the ridges that they had
defended so well, listened to the roar of conflict on the wing, ever
increasing in volume, and watched the vast clouds of smoke gathering
over the forest. He could see from where he stood the flash of rifle
fire and the blaze of cannon, and both eye and ear told him that the
battle was not moving back upon the South.
“It seems that we do not make headway, sir,” he said to Colonel
Winchester, who also stood by him, looking and listening.
“Not that I can perceive,” replied the colonel, “and yet with the rush
of forty thousand fresh troops of ours upon the field I deemed victory
quick and easy. How the battle grows! How the South fights!”
Colonel Winchester walked away presently and joined Sherman, who was
eagerly watching the mighty conflict, into which he knew that his own
worn and shattered troops must sooner or later be drawn. He walked up
and down in front of his lines, saying little but seeing everything. His
tall form was seen by all his men. He, too, must have felt a singular
thrill at that moment. He must have known that his star was rising. He,
more than any other, with his valor, penetrating mind and decision
had saved the Northern army from complete destruction the first day at
Shiloh. He had not been able to avert defeat, but he had prevented utter
ruin. His division alone had held together in the face of the Southern
attack until night came.
Sherman must have recalled, too, how his statement that the North would
need 200,000 troops in the west alone had been sneered at, and he had
been called mad. But he neither boasted nor predicted, continuing to
watch intently the swelling battle.
“I had enough fighting yesterday to last me a hundred years,” said
Warner to Dick, “but it seems that I'm to have more today. If the
Johnnies had any regard for the rules of war they'd have retreated long
ago.”
“We'll win yet,” said Dick hopefully, “but I don't think we can achieve
any big victory. Look, there's General Grant himself.”
Grant was passing along his whole line. While leaving the main battle
to Buell he retained general command and watched everything. He, too,
observed the failure of Buell's army to drive the enemy before them,
and he must have felt a sinking of the heart, but he did not show it.
Instead he spoke only of victory, when he made any comment at all, and
sent the members of his staff to make new arrangements. He must bring
into action every gun and man he had or he would yet lose.
It was now 10 o'clock and the new battle had lasted with the utmost fury
and desperation for four hours. Dick, after General Grant rode on, felt
as if a sudden thrill had run through the whole army. He saw men rising
from the earth and tightening their belts. He saw gunners gathering
around their guns and making ready with the ammunition. He knew the
remains of Grant's army were about to march upon the enemy, helping the
Army of the Ohio to achieve the task that had proved so great.
Sherman, McClernand and other generals now passed among their troops,
cheering them, telling them that the time had come to win back what they
had lost the day before, and that victory was sure. They called upon
them for another great effort, and a shout rolled along the line of
willing soldiers.
Sherman's whole division now raised itself up and rushed at the enemy,
Dick and his comrades in the front of their own regiment. The whole
Northern line was now engaged. Grant, true to his resolution, had hurled
every man and every gun upon his foe.
The Southern generals felt the immense weight of the numbers that were
now driving down upon them. Their decimated ranks could not withstand
the charge of two armies. In the center where Buell's men, having stood
fast from the first, were now advancing, they were compelled to give
way and lost several guns. On the wings the heavy Northern brigades were
advancing also, and the whole Southern line was pushed back. So much
inferior was the South in numbers that her enemy began to overlap her on
the flanks also.
A tremendous shout of exultation swept through the Northern ranks, as
they felt themselves advancing. The promises of their generals were
coming true, and there is nothing sweeter than victory after defeat.
Fortune, after frowning upon her so long, was now smiling upon the
North. The exultant cheer swept through the ranks again, and back came
the defiant rebel yell.
A young soldier often feels what is happening with as true instinct as a
general. Dick now knew that the North would recover the field, and that
the South, cut down fearfully, though having performed prodigies of
valor, must fight to save herself. He felt that the resistance in front
of them was no longer invincible. He saw in the flash of the firing that
the Southern ranks were thin, very thin, and he knew that there was no
break in their own advance.
Now the sanguine Northern generals planned the entire destruction of the
Southern army. There was only one road by which Beauregard could retreat
to Corinth. A whole Northern division rushed in to block the way.
Sherman, in his advance, came again to the ground around the little
Methodist chapel of Shiloh which he had defended so well the day before,
and crowded his whole force upon the Southern line at that point. Once
more the primitive church in the woods looked down upon one of the most
sanguinary conflicts of the whole war. If Sherman could break through
the Southern line here Beauregard's whole army would be lost.
But the Southern soldiers were capable of another and a mighty effort.
Their generals saw the danger and acted with their usual promptness and
decision. They gathered together their shattered brigades and hurled
them like a thunderbolt upon the Union left and center. The shock was
terrific. Sherman, with all his staunchness and the valor of his men,
was compelled to give way. McClernand, too, reeled back, others were
driven in also. Whole brigades and regiments were cut to pieces or
thrown in confusion. The Southerners cut a wide gap in the Northern
army, through which they rushed in triumph, holding the Corinth road
against every attack and making their rear secure.
Sherman's division, after its momentary repulse, gathered itself anew,
and, although knowing now that the Southern army could not be entrapped,
drove again with all its might upon the positions around the church.
They passed over the dead of the day before, and gathered increasing
vigor, as they saw that the enemy was slowly drawing back.
Grant reformed his line, which had been shattered by the last fiery and
successful attack of the South. Along the whole long line the trumpets
sang the charge, and brigades and batteries advanced.
But the end of Shiloh was at hand. Despite the prodigies of valor
performed by their men, the Southern generals saw that they could not
longer hold the field. The junction of Grant and Buell, after all,
had proved too much for them. The bugles sounded the retreat, and
reluctantly they gave up the ground which they had won with so much
courage and daring. They retreated rather as victors than defeated men,
presenting a bristling front to the enemy until their regiments were
lost in the forest, and beating off every attempt of skirmishers or
cavalry to molest them.
It was the middle of the afternoon when the last shot was fired, and the
Southern army at its leisure resumed its march toward Corinth, protected
on the flanks by its cavalry, and carrying with it the assurance that
although not victorious over two armies it had been victorious over one,
and had struck the most stunning blow yet known in American history.
When the last of the Southern regiments disappeared in the deep woods,
Dick and many of those around him sank exhausted upon the ground. Even
had they been ordered to follow they would have been incapable of it.
Complete nervous collapse followed such days and nights as those through
which they had passed.
Nor did Grant and Buell wish to pursue. Their armies had been too
terribly shaken to make another attack. Nearly fifteen thousand of
their men had fallen and the dead and wounded still lay scattered widely
through the woods. The South had lost almost as many. Nearly a third of
her army had been killed or wounded in the battle, and yet they retired
in good order, showing the desperate valor of these sons of hers.
The double army which had saved itself, but which had yet been unable to
destroy its enemy, slept that night in the recovered camp. The generals
discussed in subdued tones their narrow escape, and the soldiers, who
now understood very well what had happened, talked of it in the same
way.
“We knew that it was going to be a big war,” said Dick, “but it's going
to be far bigger than we thought.”
“And we won't make that easy parade down to the Gulf,” said Warner. “I'm
thinking that a lot of lions are in the path.”
“But we'll win!” said Dick. “In the end we'll surely win!”
Then after dreaming a little with his eyes open he fell asleep,
gathering new strength for mighty campaigns yet to come.
Appendix: Transcription notes:
This etext was transcribed from a volume of the 22nd printing
The following modifications were applied while transcribing the printed
book to e-text:
chapter 2
- Page 40, para 6, changed comma to period
chapter 3
- Page 59, para 3, fixed mis-printed quotation mark
chapter 4
- Page 73, para 6, fixed typo (“thy”)
- Page 74, para 1, add missing end-quote
chapter 5
- Page 95, para 3, add missing end-quote
- Page 102, para 5, add missing comma
chapter 6
- Page 118, para 3, fixed typo (“lenghening”)
- Page 119, para 6, fixed typo (“untils”)
- Page 120, para 3, fixed typo (“alrming”)
chapter 7
- Page 139, para 4, add missing begin-quote
chapter 9
- Page 184, para 2, add missing begin-quote
chapter 10
- Page 197, para 7, fixed typo (“Your're”)
chapter 15
- Page 299, para 2, fixed typo (“genuis”)
chapter 16
- Page 331, para 2, fixed typo (changed “not” to “nor”)
Limitations imposed by converting to plain ASCII:
- Throughout the printed book, in any quasi-mathematical passages
which use the variables “x” and “y”, those variable names are
presented in italics. Italics are not available in plain ASCII.
I did not modify:
- The printed book sometimes uses the spelling “despatch”, other
times “dispatch”. Also, both “intrenchments” and “entrenchments”.
- Chapter 12, page 245, “grewsome”
- There are a number of instances where the use of the comma in the
printed book seems to me inappropriate, mainly in terms of commas
inserted where I would not insert them, and also sometimes commas
lacking where I would provide them. However, I have adhered to
the punctuation as printed (except for obvious printing errors,
which are noted above).
For example:
The hills rolled far away southward, and under the horizon's rim.
The three bade farewell to the young operator, then to almost all
of Hubbard and proceeded in a trot for the pass.
One day Major Hertford sent Dick, Warner, and Sergeant Whitley,
ahead to scout.
The two young aides carried away by success and the fire of
battle, waved their swords continually and rushed at the
enemy's lines.
Duck River, which Buell was compelled to cross, was swollen like
all the other streams of the region, by the great rains and was
forty feet deep.
- The author sometimes uses a technique whereby a paragraph introducing
a quotation ends with a colon, with the quotation following as the
next paragraph.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Guns of Shiloh, by Joseph A. Altsheler