The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (32 page)

Matthew jolted up from a dead sleep and jerked at Peter’s arm.  “Wake up!  We’re being attacked!”

“You’re crazy,” Peter muttered, snuggling deeper into his warm blankets.  “Go back to sleep.”

              “Get up, Peter!”  Matthew leapt up and dashed out of his tent.  The musket shots grew louder, and the crazy Rebel yell echoed faintly through the valley.

              Moments later, Peter’s head poked from the tent.  “What is going on?”  His voice was as bewildered as his face.

“The army
that has no fight left in it
is attacking,” Matthew snapped.

Suddenly the camp swarmed with retreating men; all in night clothes, many bloodied and limping, their eyes wide with fright.   Almost none had weapons.

“The Rebels are attacking!” dazed Union soldiers yelled.  “They came out of nowhere!”

Officers appeared in the darkness and tried to regain order.  “Prepare yourselves, men!” they commanded, trying to stop the stampede of soldiers to the rear.  Most ran right around their officers and continued on their wild flight. 

Musket fire and screams grew louder.  Matthew was suddenly very frightened.  He exchanged a grim look with Peter, ducked back into his tent to grab his pack, waited for Peter to do the same, and then ran.  Remaining in the middle of a battlefield with no defense was certainly not wise.  He would
not
be captured again.  Just the thought of it made him run faster.

Robert yelled victoriously as Union men spilled from their tents and ran in fright.  He watched as his men grabbed up new rifles, pulled shoes onto their bare feet, slipped into warm coats, and then kept pressing forward. 

“We got ‘em running, Captain!” Alex yelled triumphantly, shaking his new rifle at the sky.

“Keep moving, Alex,” Robert yelled back.  “This day has only begun.  We will drive this army back to the North!”   He knew the element of surprise was gone.  The Confederates’ bellowing attack and booming guns had destroyed that.  Now speed was going to be their weapon; pressing forward too quickly for the Federals to mount an effective defense. 

His men yelled and pushed forward even harder.  Robert couldn’t know how other units fared, but at least in his area, victory appeared imminent .

Within moments they burst out into another encampment.  Open flaps revealed most of their enemy had fled, but they were met by sporadic bursts of gunfire.

“Fire!” Robert yelled, emptying his rifle in the direction of the rifle flashes and running straight for it. 

Gunshots erupted all around him as his men yelled wildly and followed right behind him.  A few more musket flashes lit the predawn before silence came. 

“Looky what I got here, Captain!” 

Robert looked up as several of his men appeared in the firelight, herding forward confused Federal soldiers, their eyes wide with sleep and fright.  “Hold them as prisoners,” he snapped and then motioned the rest of his men onward.

Morning crept forward.  Daylight revealed just how successful their surprise attack had been.  Robert couldn’t help laughing as his men continued to surge forward into absolute chaos.  The fields behind the Union tents had become a living mass of men and horses – all fleeing for life and safety.  Shoeless and hatless Union soldiers scurried like flightless fowls escaping their predators.  Artillery guns were left deserted.  Horses darted around madly; some cannoneers mounted bareback attempting to regain control.  Panic hung in the air like heavy clouds.

Chaos increased when Rebel cannoneers captured Union guns and then turned them on their former holders, throwing shell - grapeshot and canister - into the flying fugitives.  White flags of surrender flew from every Union entrenchment.

“Look at this, Captain!” one of his men yelled.  “You ever seen such finery?” his voice mocked.

Robert looked into one officer’s tent set up as if he had been on a grand vacation and not on a battlefield.  Robert’s eyes narrowed as he absorbed the elegant scene before him.   A small dining table - perfectly set with china, shiny tableware, and even a vase of fresh flowers - incited Robert’s anger over his own men’s hardships. 

Opening his mouth to call his men onward, he stopped when his soldiers began to grab things.   This bounty must look like the wealth of the Indies to his half-fed, half-clothed men. 

It took them only seconds to grab slices of bacon and bread off a table, or to shrug into a warm overcoat, or slip on thick boots they hadn’t seen the likes of since the beginning of the war.  His men couldn’t carry much, but, at least for a while, they would be warm at night.  How could Robert take
that
from them?

Moments later order was restored and they continued to press forward, laughing at the victory that was obviously theirs.

Matthew stumbled forward, both mesmerized and horrified by the chaos surrounding him. 

“You all right?”  Peter grabbed his arm and held him upright.

Matthew suddenly couldn’t breathe.  He knew how easily he could be captured again.  Sheridan’s army was being badly beaten.  The Confederates would take many prisoners that day.

“Matthew?”  Peter shook him.  “We have to keep moving.”

“I won’t be captured again,” Matthew gasped.  “No more…”  Terror gripped him as memories of Libby Prison and the escape filled him.  “They’ll have to kill me.”

“There will be no capturing and no killing,” Peter snapped.  “We’re getting out of here!”  He pulled Matthew forward through a stand of trees and then jerked to a stop and groaned.

Matthew stared forward and saw a group of Federal soldiers being herded by laughing Rebel troops.  “No,” he whispered.  He jerked free of Peter’s arm, dashed into a stand of trees, and searched for a way out.  He was aware of Peter right behind him, but freedom was his only thought.  Perhaps the soldiers hadn’t seen them.

“Get those two that disappeared into the woods!”

A call from behind him destroyed Matthew’s hope.  He paused for a moment and then raced headlong into a field of boulders and huge rocks, dashing through them and around them as fast as he could.  His breath came in gasps, and he couldn’t hear anything beyond the roaring in his head. 

He was hugging a boulder, looking for a place above him to hide, when the ground seemed to open up and swallow him.  He cried out as he slid down and came to a jarring halt. 

Peter landed right beside him.  “What…?”

Matthew’s hand clamped over Peter’s mouth to silence him.  “Not a word,” Matthew whispered harshly.  He gasped for breath and then held it when he heard the scramble above him. 

“They had to have come this way!” one of the men yelled.  “They didn’t just disappear into thin air.” 

Moments later another soldier’s voice filled the silence.  “I ain’t worried about two more men since we got us close to one hundred back there.  Let ‘em go.” A harsh, triumphant laugh rang in the air.  “If they get away, they can tell about how Captain Borden’s men destroyed their camp.”

Matthew gasped again.  Robert’s men were pursuing him.  If they caught him and Peter, even Robert couldn’t get them out of trouble this time.  He shrank into himself and prayed their hole would protect them.  He would worry later about how to get out of it.

Robert was exhausted, but laughed and joked with his men as the morning rolled on.  Couriers from other divisions relayed the message that General Early’s attack had swept the Federal forces off the field.  Robert was certain Early would order another attack against their badly mauled enemy to finish them off. 

He looked up expectantly as one of his commanding officers rode up.  “Are we moving again?”

“No,” came the clipped answer.  “General Early has decided to hold what has been gained.  We’re to carry off all the captured and abandoned artillery, small arms, and wagons.”

Not sure what to say, Robert simply looked at him.

The officer shrugged.  “The men are exhausted.  They’ve been short of food and supplies for weeks.”  He leaned forward to add quietly, “Your men are in order, but in other areas, one third of the men have left their lines and are plundering.”

Robert stared at him, but he understood.  These men had suffered so greatly.  Still…

“Do you think they’re finished?” Robert asked quietly, looking north.  “Surely Sheridan won’t just ride off into the sunset.”

“I guess we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” the officer replied grimly before he moved on.

Sheridan’s response came that afternoon.

Robert and his men had moved up to help form a final line.  His troops stared uneasily first at the Union force, and then at Robert, as the Federals gathered en masse across from them. 

A messenger came through relaying that Confederate signalmen on Massanutten Mountain had sent the warning of a Yankee buildup. 

“Captain?”

“I don’t guess it’s over yet,” Robert said grimly as his eyes scanned the horizon.

“The boys are feeling right nervous,” Alex muttered.  “I reckon we celebrated a mite too early.”

Robert remained silent, his rifle gripped tightly, as he fought to breathe evenly.  His men wore their newly confiscated uniforms and shoes.  Robert prayed these brave soldiers would live long enough to enjoy them.