The Big Gun (Dusty Fog's Civil War Book 3) (6 page)

‘
We
can’t at this time,’ Ole Devil admitted, wishing that he could have
given more reassuring news to the Arkansans—particularly those who
had lived north of the Ouachita River. ‘As most of you know, the
War isn’t going too well for us. So it has been decided by the High
Command that our main strength must be reserved for the protection
of Richmond and the sea-board States. Without them, our cause is
lost. From now on, they can’t spare any further regiments, men, or
much by way of military equipment.’

‘
So
we’re to be left at the Yankees’ mercy, sir?’ suggested an
Engineer’s major bitterly, thinking of his home and business in
Little Rock.

‘
Not
entirely,’ Ole Devil corrected. ‘In fact, I’d say that we aren’t at
anybody’s mercy. Rather we have been entrusted with a vital,
important duty. From now on, gentlemen, we are to form a running
sore in the Yankees’ side. We have to make them expend men and
material here that would otherwise be available for use in the East
and South.’

‘
How
can we do that, sir?’ inquired the tall, burly, bearded colonel who
was the senior Artillery officer present and the commander of the
Arkadelphia garrison. ‘We’re still outnumbered and can’t hope to
face up to them in open battle.’

‘
Our
purpose isn’t to try to beat them in open battle, Colonel
Galveston,’ Ole Devil pointed out. ‘If it had been, we needn’t have
withdrawn from Little Rock. From now on, we concentrate upon
holding our ground and fighting back, using the tactics of the
Indians. And I mean using
all
their tactics, gentlemen, although we’ll draw the
line at some of their
methods.
Scalping isn’t to be permitted.’ There were
chuckles and he let them die down before continuing, ‘I realize
that those of you who have the misfortune not to be Texans—’ Again
laughter rose and subsided. A general could always rely on such a
response to his attempts at humor.
Ole Devil went on, ‘May not be sure just
what fighting like Indians entails. It means that we will
constantly be raiding the Yankees; striking at them when and where
they least expect it; destroying their camps; running off their
horses; wrecking and looting—especially the latter—their supply
columns. Like the Indians, we will gather a good proportion of our
military necessities from the Yankees. As you can see, it will
mainly be work for the Cavalry. However, in addition to their work
of patrolling the Ouachita and preventing the Yankees from crossing
to raid us, the Infantry may be able to indulge in short distance
raids beyond the river. The Artillery will be responsible, with
Infantry support, for the protection of the riverside towns and
villages. I can promise you, gentlemen, there will be work in
plenty for everybody.’

The words met with a mixed
reception, especially amongst the more junior captains. Those in
the Cavalry looked delighted at the prospect of such active,
aggressive participation, with its accompanying opportunities for
gaining distinction. Despite Ole Devil
’s promise of limited offensive
action, the majority of the Infantry and all the Artillery
officers—faced with what would most likely be considerable boredom
in their defensive duties—seemed less pleased. However, one group
who wore the blue facings of foot soldiers did not appear to share
their compatriots’ gloom. They were members of the 2nd Texas
Infantry Regiment, but were becoming a mounted force and, as such,
would be able to operate with the Cavalry.

At the rear of the room, to the right of the
big front doors of the building, sat Captain Dustine Edward Marsden
Fog, youngest and most junior officer present. By his side was a
taller, slightly older captain whose red facings indicated that he
belonged to the Artillery. Dark-haired, moderately good looking,
with a slim, wiry build, he was Douglas St. John Staunce, and he
wore more formal, correct attire and accoutrements.

The only son of
Britain
’s
leading artillerist, Staunce had come from that country to command
a battery of mountain howitzers in the Confederate States’ Army. It
had been presented to the South by a group of British cotton
manufacturers and was manned by Crimean War veterans who had become
disenchanted with civilian life. Staunce and his battery had also
distinguished themselves at the Battle of Martin’s Mill, but he had
refused promotion as it would have meant that he must leave his
men, battery and the four little guns.
^vii

Since the Battle, Dusty and Staunce had
frequently come into contact with each other. A close friendship
had grown up between them, based on mutual admiration and respect.
At the moment, however, neither spoke. They were listening to what
was being said with considerable interest.

The abduction of General Culver
had been completed without difficulty. Having accepted that defeat
was inevitable, the Lancers
’ major had made certain that none of his men
endangered their own—and their companions’—lives. Every time a
soldier had appeared from the pup tents, the major had called out
and prevented him from doing anything rash. The Texans had taken
away all the horses and had found the rest of their work just as
easy. Escorting Culver and their loot to the Ouachita, they had
made the crossing without meeting any opposition, then had
delivered him to General Hardin’s headquarters.

From the next morning, Dusty
had been busy reorganizing his Company. Sufficient recruits had
arrived from Texas for the men he had lost at
Martin
’s
Mill to be replaced and his command fetched up to its full
strength. So he would rather have remained with them, helping to
weld them and the old hands into a smoothly functioning team, but
the meeting had taken precedence over that. The work had had to be
left in the capable hands of 1st Lieutenant Blaze—for Red had
matured rapidly while carrying out his first important independent
assignment during the battle and, anyway, Dusty had always known he
could be trusted to carry out his duties in a responsible
manner—and Sergeant Major Billy Jack. Despite the latter’s
mournful, hang-dog aspect, he was a first-class soldier and stood
high in the enlisted men’s esteem,

‘
I
don’t know who will take over command of the Union’s Army of
Arkansas,’ Ole Devil admitted. ‘But, until he gets here, there
should be some confusion. I intend that we should take full
advantage of this and try to make it worse. As the withdrawal
proved, the Yankees aren’t using their top-quality regiments
against us. With the exception of the New Jersey Dragoons and,
possibly, the Wisconsin Heavy Infantry, we were and still are,
opposed by mediocre outfits. That will make our work so much
easier. Such opposition will soon become disheartened, sullen and
discontented if they suffer constant harassment, misfortune and
danger. It’s up to you, gentlemen, to make this state
happen.’

‘
When
Uncle Devil says “you”,’ Dusty whispered to Staunce. ‘He
means
us,
the
cavalry.
’

‘
That’s family influence,’ the Englishman replied, equally
quietly. ‘Almost nepotism, old boy. Ole Devil’s a fly-slicer
^viii
, so one can expect him to be biased
in favor. Now if my father was commanding general, you’d really see
the Artillery in action.’

‘
What
can you wagon-soldiers
^ix
do that us leather
bumpers, or even the foot shufflers
^x
can’t do a heap better and quieter?’
Dusty challenged.

‘
Hit
targets from farther away and harder than you can with your
revolvers and sabers,’ Staunce countered. ‘We can stand back where
you yellow-legs and the puddle-splashers couldn’t even—’

At that moment,
Dusty
’s
question received an even more pointed answer.

There was a faint hissing
sound, which rapidly grew louder until it ended with a bellowing
roar that shattered the windows of the
courthouse.

Every man in the room came to his feet and a
thunder of startled conversation rolled forth. For a few seconds,
everything was in confusion as officers turned to look in the
direction of the explosion, or tried to leave their rows of seats
to investigate.

Like the other occupants of the
room, Dusty had risen. He found himself ideally positioned to take
a hurried departure. Slapping on the hat he had been nursing, he
darted forward and threw open the double doors. Before him
stretched the town
’s square, and considerable pandemonium reigned across its
width.

Civilians who had gathered
before the courthouse, attracted by the presence of so many senior
officers, scattered. Women were screaming and the men yelled
incoherent warnings. About thirty yards away from the front
entrance of the building was a fair-sized, smoking crater. As far
as Dusty could see, nobody had been hurt in the explosion. However,
all around the square, horses were rearing and plunging in fright.
Cursing soldiers struggled to restrain the frightened animals and
prevent them from bolting. Not all the attempts had been successful
for some of the horses had escaped and were running
away
.

Looking around as he left the
building, Dusty was grateful for his lack of seniority. Being by
far the most junior officer present, he had had to leave his
horse well away
from the courthouse. So the high-spirited, big and powerful bay
gelding appeared to be less disturbed than the animals which had
been closer to the explosion.

Racing across the square, Dusty
saw that Company C
’s guidon bearer had once more displayed competence in
handling his duties. The good-looking, tall, sandy haired young
private had already succeeded in bringing his own and Dusty’s
mounts under control.

Gripping one end of each
horse
’s
two-piece reins—the second portion being fastened to the saddle
horn—Sandy McGraw had turned to face the courthouse. He watched the
small Texan sprinting towards him. If he had been asked to bet on
the subject, Sandy would have been willing to gamble heavily on his
youthful officer being the first man to emerge from the building.
What was more, the guidon bearer felt sure that Captain Fog was
already assessing the situation and figuring out the best way to
deal with it.

‘
What
happened, Sandy?’ Dusty called,

‘
Damned if I know, cap’n,’ the guidon bearer admitted,
wishing that he could have made a more constructive or informative
answer. ‘It just seemed to come from nowhere. I haven’t even heard
a cannon going off.’

Neither had Dusty, which puzzled him.

Even before the withdrawal had
commenced, Ole Devil had arranged for the riverside towns and
villages to be defended. So there were well-protected and carefully
sited batteries along the southern
bank of the Ouachita, backed up by a
strong force of infantry.

When the Yankees had arrived,
they had brought three batteries of M
1857 twelve-pounder ‘Napoleon’
gun-howitzers. However, they had not been able to locate the
weapons into a position from which they could bombard the
town.

Aware of the danger presented
by having so many senior officers gathered under one roof and in
such close proximity to the enemy, Colonel Galveston had taken very
strict security precautions. He had not been content to rely upon
the secrecy with which the meeting had been arranged. Although the
outskirts of Arkadelphia extended to the river, the courthouse was
some distance from it. Neither the front of the building nor the
square could be seen from the opposite side of the Ouachita. For
all that, Colonel Galveston had given strict orders that a constant
watch be kept on the Yankees and any sign of
activity
—particularly on the part of the ‘Napoleons’—must be
reported to him immediately.

No such warning had been given. Nor could
Dusty hear anything to suggest that the opposing forces were
engaging each other with cannon-, or even rifle-fire. The lack of
evidence of hostile activity was very puzzling.

If the Yankees had heard about
the meeting and were hoping to kill a number of the Confederate
senior officers, they would hardly have restricted their efforts to
a single shot. Instead, they would have fired a volley from all
eighteen of the three batteries
’ ‘Napoleons’. To do that, however, they
would have had to move into range and, by doing so, given the
defenders some indication, of their intentions.

‘
Dusty!’ Staunce yelled, having reached the square shortly
after the small Texan and discovered that his unattended horse had
succeeded in freeing itself and bolting. ‘Where’re you
going?’

‘
To
see what’s happening from up on the hill,’ Dusty
replied.

Among the precautions taken for
the protection of Arkadelphia had been the establishment of an
observation post on top of a nearby small hill.
From it, the northern bank of
the river could be kept under a more careful scrutiny than was
possible at water level. The men on duty had the use of a powerful
telescope and could pass messages into town over a telegraph
wire.