House Divided (154 page)

The orders were to march all night, with only brief rests. Colonel Taylor of Longstreet's staff rode ahead to find a guide for them. His home at Meadow Farm, beyond Orange Court House toward the tangled tract of second growth and scrub called the Wilderness, had been their rendezvous after their return from Gettysburg. He promised to meet them at Brock's Bridge.

“We'll come into action somewhere near the Brock Road,” he predicted. “That's the road Jackson took to flank Hooker at Chancellorsville, so we'll be on ground that brings us success. Call it a good omen.”

To the bridge where they would meet him was about twenty miles. When night forced a halt they were well on the way; and the head of the column reached Negro Run next day to find Colonel Taylor and Mr. Robinson, who had for years been sheriff of the county, ready to lead them on.

That evening they heard the guns; and when they came upon some skirmishing Yankee troopers who scattered before them, Longstreet halted the men for a rest and sent Trav and Captain Goree to discover and report back to him the results of the first clash.

“General Lee's orders to the others are to avoid battle till we are up,” he said. “But if 'Lys Grant finds us, he will strike without waiting our pleasure.”

Trav returned to him late that night, with a guide sent by General Lee to lead the First Corps through the forest to the plank road. “There's been hard fighting, General,” he said. “They hit General Ewell, and then struck General Hill's advance on the plank road. Heth and Wilcox had hard work. They'll need you as quickly as you can get there.”

Trav spoke urgently, for he had seen that need. Black Nig, as always when he heard the song of battle, had fretted at the bit; and Trav felt in himself that dry-throated wrath which he had learned to recognize. He spoke more strongly than he knew, and Longstreet smiled and said :

“Gently, Major. We'll want fresh men for the work. They must rest an hour or two.”

 

It was not till after midnight that Longstreet gave the order to go on. The road through the forest was dim and overgrown. The moon was almost at the full, but among the trees lay darkness, and horses and men felt their way, guiding by the ruts under their feet and by the beaten trough between the ruts where years of occasional use had marked a shallow trail. When the trees thinned, the road became difficult to follow; but in this more open ground it was no longer necessary to move in single columns, so they came on more quickly and on a broader front.

At first daylight they heard raging musketry ahead and hurried their pace. When they reached the plank road, the two divisions in a doubled column filled it, eight men abreast. McLaws's division, now under Kershaw, was on the right-hand side; Hood's under Field on the left. They drove forward so briskly that some of the smaller men were forced to an occasional jog trot to keep their places.

The sun, obscured by smoke rising from the joined battle, rose red above the trees. They saw where a field hospital had been the day before, saw the dead bodies of men whom the surgeons had been unable to help. An aide on some urgent errand galloped across their front, and they saw more mounted men, couriers or officers. Ambulances met them, and there were stragglers in the scrub fields on either side, and litter-bearers left the road to let them pass.

Upon the head of their advancing column broke the rout of two divisions. The enemy attack, begun before sunrise, had shattered the Confederate right. The first men they met were single fugitives, and Trav recognized among them Lonn Tyler, and he shouted:

“Where you going, Lonn?”

Tyler waved his hand. “Home, b‘God! I'll be there tonight, if my stren'th holds out.” He darted into the trees. The fugitives became more numerous; and behind their straggling lines came a solid mass of men as orderly as a marching column, yet in full and hard retreat. The head of Longstreet's column was a rock on which they split, pouring into the woods and fields on either side, harangued by their desperate
officers and pursued by the jeers of Longstreet's men, but stubbornly intent on making their way to safety.

Trav and the others riding in advance came to the crest of a gentle rise beyond which the ground sloped gradually downward. For two or three hundred yards there were old fields grown to brush head-high; and beyond that lay the tangled wood from which the song of battle came. Behind them, the doubled column of the First Corps halted; and Longstreet after one glance at the scene ahead deployed the men, throwing out three brigades on each side of the road. He rode along the forming lines, speaking in reassuring tones.

“Time enough, men. Do no firing till you've formed. Break your ranks to let these others through. They'll rally behind you. Time enough. Be easy. Dress your lines.”

Trav had to repeat that admonition to himself. Time enough! Time enough! But it was hard to wait; to see emerging from the woods ahead gray-clad men in broken retreat, to see blue uniforms as the Yankees pressed them hard. He could see individual puffs of smoke as single muskets fired; he heard the thud of balls striking trees and men about him here.

General Lee joined Longstreet, and Trav had never seen the commanding general so obviously excited. Beside him, Longstreet seemed a monument of calm. Trav could not hear, over the steady drumming of musketry, what they said; but he heard Lee's voice shake as though the man were near tears. Then Lee rode to where the Texans under General Bragg were forming, while Trav followed Longstreet to the south side of the plank road. There Colonel Venable of Lee's staff came hurriedly to them.

“Sir,” he said, “General Lee is over there insisting he will lead the Texans forward. He refuses to go to the rear.”

Longstreet grunted. “Give General Lee my compliments, Colonel. Tell him if he will permit me to handle the affair, we will restore the situation in an hour.” Colonel Venable hesitated; and Longstreet added dryly: “Say to him that if I am not needed, I ask permission to withdraw to some place of greater safety. It's not comfortable here.”

Venable smiled and turned his horse, and Longstreet spoke to Trav. “Currain, tell General Field to advance his men as soon as they are formed. Tell him to use heavy skirmish lines with close support in
strength.” And as Trav whirled he added in a jocular tone: “And Major, you come back to me. Don't let that big horse of yours get his head. I want you in hand.”

 

Trav gave Longstreet's orders to General Field, and he saw the skirmish lines move forward and heard their first careful, steady fire. His ear had learned to interpret battle sounds; he listened, and he began to think the enemy was checked. Then Colonel Venable and another officer rode up to him, and the Colonel said:

“Major, take General Smith to General Longstreet. General Lee thinks he may be useful.”

Trav as he obeyed saw the sun already high, and he felt a familiar wonder at the way time during a battle seemed to speed. Only a moment ago they had been groping through the darkness of the forest; now it must be seven or eight o'clock. Before they crossed the road he heard Longstreet's great voice, audible even above the steady fire, as he shouted orders. Behind Longstreet's battle line, the best men from the two divisions which had broken under the Yankee attack were already rallying. They would presently be a fighting force again.

General Smith and Longstreet met like old friends; and Trav saw them talk together for a moment, saw Longstreet point to the right, saw General Smith ride away. Before them in the forest the hard battle rose in pitch, the firing so steady it seemed one continuous sound. The enemy, yielding a little at first, had stiffened and now held his ground. Trav had learned to distinguish between the muffled reports of their own muskets and the sharper note of guns fired in their direction. The volume of Yankee fire was rising; the enemy had been reinforced. If they were further strengthened they would be able to come on.

General Lee came to join Longstreet, and while they were together General Smith returned and made report. Longstreet listened, and spoke, and Trav saw Lee nod as though assenting. General Smith rode rapidly away, and Longstreet turned and called Moxley Sorrel. They met close enough to where Trav waited so that he heard the General's words.

“Colonel, this is a chance for good work. Their flank's loose. Collect some of the brigades behind us here in support and take them off
to the right through the woods. Thrust your right forward, be sure you're ready before you strike, then hit their flank and drive them across our front. We'll move when we hear your guns.”

They rode past Trav, Longstreet still speaking, till Sorrel turned his horse to thread his way at a smart trot through the scrub and brush. Longstreet watched him go and then came back, pausing by Trav. “Sorrel's gone to strike their flank. That should break them before they can be further reinforced.”

He sat listening to the battle, and Trav stayed beside him, trying to estimate the passing time. What troops would Sorrel use? Anderson's division was in position as support, and two or three brigades of the First Corps were held on the flank. How long for Sorrel to reach them? How far must they march to strike their blow? How long before they would attack ? The clamor of gunfire in the forest was a steady ringing like a smith's hammer on his anvil; it came in volume like the robust voices of a massed choir. Trav let his thoughts dwell on figures: so many minutes, so many men, so many fractions of miles that must be marched.

Before he arrived at any answer to the sum he set himself, the rhythm of the battle clamor changed. From the right came the strong staccato of firm fire from well-aimed guns.

That was Sorrel! Those were the guns of his brigades. The pulse beating in Trav's throat made it hard for him to hear. There was a sudden stir among the officers here around him, and Nig for a moment got his head, till Trav reined him under hard control. As his ears cleared they brought him the story of what was happening on the flank. He heard—he had no need to see—the enemy line waver and stagger, stumble and break. The sudden shrill yells from behind the screening forest were eloquent of victory.

Longstreet rode down toward the plank road, and Trav and the others of the staff came after him, and Longstreet shouted orders. Let Field's men and Kershaw's press the shaken enemy, while those three brigades Sorrel had led into position rolled them up from the flank. Longstreet himself crossed the plank road to speak to General Field. As he returned, General Smith came through the woods from the right to report an even greater opportunity: the whole Yankee flank was hanging in the air.

“Very well, sir. Take the force still in reserve and drive that flank in.” There was a strong jubilance in Longstreet's voice, and as General Smith rode away the big man spoke to Captain Goree.

“Bring General Jenkins up to co-operate with Kershaw.” And when Goree was gone, to Trav and the others while they waited: “Here's Second Manassas all over again; yes and Chancellorsville. We've thrown them in utter rout, and we've force in hand to press them. We'll sweep them clear across our front.”

Colonel Taylor pointed east along the road: “General, the woods are on fire.”

They saw creeping flames running through the carpet of dead leaves along the ground; smoke touched their nostrils, and Trav heard a man scream, and then another. There must be scores of wounded helpless in the path of those little running flames that spread like water over sand. Trav thought of the tide rising over the flats below Great Oak; and in a sudden flashing memory he saw the big house once so familiar, last seen two years ago almost to the day. It too had died in flames, as these wounded men in the forest here would die.

From behind them came General Jenkins at a smart trot; and beyond him the head of the column of his men, coming at the double, filled the road. Longstreet greeted him exultantly; in three swift sentences he explained the situation. “Three or four of our brigades have routed two full corps of Yankees,” he said. “We hit their flank and hustled them across the road ahead of us. We've five fresh brigades now to keep them running!”

General Jenkins's eyes shone. “We'll throw them back across the river before night!” He turned and shouted so that every man in the column of his men could hear. “The Yanks are broken, boys! We'll finish them! Three cheers for General Longstreet!”

The full-throated answer ended in a chorus of shrill yipping yells that made Trav's pulses race. Moxley Sorrel returned to say the flanking troops were already across the road in front of them. With the advancing files of Jenkins's eager men close upon their heels, they rode on.

Smoke was heavy in the woods and across the road; and the cries of hurt men rang in their ears. Trav left the road and forced Nig through the trees toward the creeping fire. There were wounded scattered all
about, most of them helpless; but a man with a shattered leg dragged himself like a snake with a broken back, trying to keep ahead of the spreading flames. Trav saw a file of men ahead, and he called to them: “Carry some of these poor fellows clear of the fire.”

But the man with the broken leg swore at him furiously. “Git the hell away from here! Git them Yanks! Us-uns can crawl! Git on!”

Trav hesitated, abashed by this fierce urgency. A volley sounded close along the road ahead and he heard a desperate cry. “Friends!” There was terror like panic in that cry. He swung Nig back to the road and saw Jenkins's men dropping in their tracks, hugging the ground. A little way ahead there was confusion among the horsemen of the staff, and cries, and someone shouted for Dr. Cullen.

Then Trav's heart turned sick with sorrow, for he saw Longstreet's bulk sway in the saddle, and lean slowly sidewise, and he saw a dozen men run to ease the General to the ground.

He dismounted, passed Nig's reins to a soldier, pressed to Long street's side, saw a fountain of blood surging from the big man's throat. Dr. Cullen was already busy with the wound.