CHAPTER XV
THE ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF A WAGON-TRAIN
The details of the battle of Mill Springs, as it was generally called when the accounts of it were published at the time, or, more properly, Logan's Cross Roads, as General Thomas called it in his report to the chief of staff of the Department of the Ohio, are too voluminous to be given at length; and they have been published so many times in various works that it is unnecessary to repeat them. Only such parts as relate to the career of the "lieutenant at eighteen" will be introduced, though incidentally some of the movements of the army will be included.
The general in his report says: "I reached Logan's Cross Roads, about ten miles north of the intrenched camp of the enemy, on the Cumberland River, on the 17th instant." On the night of his arrival he sent a messenger to Colonel Stedman's camp, ordering him to send forward a long train of wagons, that had halted in the road from the river, under a strong guard, and himself to attack the enemy where they were reported to be.
This train had not arrived at the headquarters of the general; but the reason for its non-arrival was apparent, for the rain had begun to fall in torrents on the afternoon of the 17th, and had continued to pour down for two days. The road was inundated, and the creeks were impassable. On Saturday morning at an early hour the pickets of Wolford's cavalry encountered the enemy advancing upon the Union forces. The Confederates were held in check until General Thomas could order a force forward adequate to give them battle. This was the beginning of the battle of Mill Springs.
The general's camp was on the left of the pike from the river. The Fourth Kentucky, Second Minnesota, and Ninth Ohio were sent forward to hold the enemy, and took positions near Logan's house, while Wetmore's Battery was placed near the Somerset Road. The Confederates advanced on the other side, almost to this road. Three regiments and a battery had moved forward to the north side of a fence which extended east and west on both sides of the pike.
General Crittenden, commanding the army, with his staff, had a position just south of this fence, though Zollicoffer led the attacking brigades. General Thomas immediately ordered an advance of his whole force, and the fighting became general. It was a long and severe battle, with alternate repulses and advances on both sides. The enemy finally retreated to their intrenchments, ten miles distant, but did not reach their works till after dark. As the enemy were marching to the attack, the wagon-train had been discovered mired in a field to which its escort had been driven by the unexpected approach of the Confederates.
It was a long train, and must be loaded with provisions, forage, and ammunition. The famished Southern soldiers, who had nothing but dry bread, and that in small quantities, cast longing eyes at the mired wagons; and a company of Tennessee cavalry was sent to capture them. They were about a mile distant, and were moving a rod or two, in fits and starts, at a time, towards the Jamestown Road, with the escort at the wheels lifting them out of the soft soil. The guard was commanded by a Minnesota lieutenant; and he had kept pickets out in the rear, who had given him early notice of the approach of the enemy.
If the train continued on the pike, it was sure to be captured; but the officer in command determined to make the attempt to escape with his wagons, and with infinite labor and exertion he had made a mile on his way to the road. He was certainly a plucky fellow; but he could not fight a whole brigade of infantry with two companies of cavalry. He had, therefore, taken his chance of reaching the Jamestown Road, and fortunately he had posted himself on the roads and distances of the locality.
The Riverlawn Cavalry, with its riflemen, were in the road some time before Captain Woodbine, mounted on a magnificent steed, arrived at the place of rendezvous. The company were at ease, and the aide-de-camp of the general rode directly to the head of the column and saluted the major.
"I may say now that this was to be a reconnaissance in force, though your command is all the general can send for the purpose," said the captain. "But I have heard of the advance of the enemy, and it may not be necessary to feel of them; so you may send out the platoon under the command of Lieutenant Lyon, in whom the captain appears to have unlimited confidence, by a road I will point out to you, to reconnoitre in the direction of the pike, on which and the road to Somerset the general is encamped."
"Do you expect this force will find an enemy in that direction?" asked the major.
"I do not, though it is possible. That heavy baggage-train must have moved to the north by the pike, if it has not been captured before this time. If Lieutenant Lyon should discover the escort, he will re-enforce it, sending back a messenger to you, Major. If not too late, it is of vital importance that this train be saved, for the general says it has rations enough in its wagons to feed the Confederate army for a week at least," replied the captain.
"How far is it to the pike?" inquired the major.
"It is about five miles; and till the platoon comes to a piece of wood, the lieutenant will have a tolerable road, and through the forest, which is over a half a mile across."
"How far is it to the woods?"
"Two miles, more or less. You had better send two scouts out in advance of the platoon, and do so at once," added the captain; and the major regarded his requests as orders coming directly from the general.
"Send Sergeant Knox and Private Milton to me," said Major Lyon, at the suggestion of Captain Gordon, to Artie, his orderly. "I think Milton knows all about the country in this vicinity."
"So much the better," replied the aide-de-camp, as the two scouts saluted the major. "Milton, are you acquainted about here?"
"As well as in the dooryard of my father's house in Miltonville. I have been to Fishing Creek as man and boy, and fished it for its whole length," replied the new recruit.
"Do you know the road across the country to the Danville Pike? It is nothing but a by-path to the woods."
"I know it very well, for I have ridden my horse over it fifty times," answered Milton.
"He will do, Major. Send them off at once."
"Excuse me for a suggestion. I think Lieutenant Lyon will do better if he has about half of our riflemen with him," interposed Captain Gordon, when the two scouts had galloped up the road on their mission.
"That is a good idea," added the captain.
"Rather too many men for a young man to command," said Deck's father, shaking his head.
"He is the best officer in the squadron for this duty," persisted the captain of the first company.
Major Lyon yielded the point, for the aide-de-camp had practically ordered Deck to the command of the expedition. The lieutenant marched his platoon ahead of the column, while Captain Ripley detailed thirty of his men, under the command of Lieutenant Butters, to which position the jailer had been elected by the company. Life Knox galloped furiously in advance of Milton for half a mile, till the latter called to him to halt.
"Here is the road across the country," shouted the recruit.
There was a fence across the entrance, which Milton removed without dismounting, for it consisted of only two rails, within his reach. Life rode through the opening, and started his horse into a gallop again. The subsoil was of gravel, with a thin coating of loam on it, not more than three inches deep, so that the animals had a good footing.
"Are we uns in a hurry?" asked Life, turning his head back to see his fellow scout.
"I should say so," replied Milton; "for the wagon-train may be captured before we come up with it if we delay, though we don't know that it is in any danger; but the pike must be crowded with the enemy hurrying on to the attack of General Thomas's force."
"Then I reckon we had better keep the hosses' legs moving lively," replied Life, as he hurried his steed to his best paces.
They soon reached the forest, which extended from one of greater extent on the other side of the pike, though the scouts passed through only a projecting corner of it. Beyond the end of the by-road, Milton explained, was a portion of low ground, through which ran a small stream. It was in this soft place that the wagon-train had mired. But it had advanced a mile from the pike; and Milton declared that it was moving by the longest way to hard ground, the shortest being to the road they had used for two miles and a half.
"There they be!" exclaimed Life; and he reined in his foaming steed to take a survey of the surroundings.
"That escort is having a hard time of it," added Milton.
"Thunder and lightning-bugs!" suddenly exclaimed the sergeant. "There's a whole company of Cornfed cavalry after 'em."
"But they are having as hard a time of it as the escort of the wagons, for their horses mire above their knees," added Milton. "But they are getting ahead very slowly in spite of the soft soil."
"But whar be them Cornfeds gwine?" asked Life, who seemed to be enamored of the name into which Butters had tortured the word. "They ain't gwine the shortest way to the wagon-train."
"They are not; and I don't understand their game," answered Milton.
Suddenly, at an order from the commander of the company, the "Cornfeds" dismounted, and proceeded to lead their horses; but the animals still sank deep in the mud, even without the weight of their riders.
"Whar's that stream you spoke on, Milton?" asked Life, as he continued to study the situation.
"Over to the left of you, and I've often fished it."
"I see it; how fur is it from that company?"
"Not more than a hundred rods from the head of the column."
"Is the bottom of the brook mud?"
"Not a bit of it. It is hard gravel below the top soil of mud."
"Then I reckon I know what them fellers are driving at," said Life, apparently pleased with his solution of the question. "How deep is the water?"
"From one to three feet, I should say."
"That's the idee! Them fellers is gwine to take to the stream," said Life. "How wide is it?"
"From twenty to thirty feet in different places."
"Then it is wide enough for them to march in column of fours."
Life dismounted, and climbed a tree, which afforded him a view of the winding stream. It passed within twenty rods of the mired wagons, and probably the mud was not so deep nearer the woods as it was farther from it. Leading their horses, the company got along faster than before, but still had some distance to go before they reached the stream. The escort of the train seemed to be discouraged at the prospect before them; though they still worked hard at the wheels, and their progress seemed to be slower than when first seen.
"I reckon we shall have a fight on this medder, Milton, and you must ride back and report to the leftenant," said Life as he descended from the tree. "Them half-starved Cornfeds won't give it up; for a dozen or more wagins, loaded with rations, is a prize to them, to say nothin' of the army in which they train. Your horse is well rested now, and you must make the gravel fly on your way to the road; for I reckon the re-enforcements will be needed as soon as they can get here."
"All right, Sergeant; I will make the distance as fast as we did coming," replied Milton as he started his horse, and immediately hurried him to a gallop.
Life Knox ascended the tree again, seated himself on a branch, and proceeded to watch the "Cornfeds." In about ten minutes more they reached the stream; but they had some difficulty in making their horses go down the steep bank, for the animals were evidently disgusted with their experience in the soft soil. The troopers stamped down the sods; and after making an inclined plane to the water, they rode down into the flowing current. The horses, perhaps concluding that they had made this movement to be watered, fell to drinking as though they had had no water that day.
Life was rather disappointed when he saw the company making so good progress in this novel road, and they soon reached their nearest point to the coveted wagons. The enemy were now within twenty rods of the train. Half an hour had elapsed since Milton left, and it was about time for the re-enforcement to appear.
The sergeant wanted to do something to retard the advance of the company; and, at the top of his ample lungs, he began to give military commands, as though he had a regiment in charge. The enemy heard his voice, and halted where they were in the stream.
CHAPTER XVI
AN IMAGINARY AND A REAL BATTLE
"Company—halt!" yelled Sergeant Knox; and he continued to give orders, as though he were in the act of bringing a column into position.
The enemy halted, as if in obedience to the command of the sergeant on the shore. His commands were plainly heard in the still air of the morning by the troopers in the water; for all of them had turned their gaze in the direction of the woods. But the observer was concealed among the branches of a large tree, and the enemy could see nothing.
The guard of the wagon-train still continued to work at the wheels. So far as they could move the vehicles at all, it was in the direction of the Jamestown Road, still three miles from them. As Life regarded the situation, it was a hopeless case for them, being only twenty rods from the enemy. It is no wonder that they were discouraged, though the officers compelled their men to continue their labor.
The only salvation for the train and the guard was in the arrival of the re-enforcement from the Riverlawn Cavalry and its auxiliary force. He was confident that this assistance would come very soon, and he hoped it would come before the enemy left the stream. Life measured with his eye the direction and distances of the edge of the forest, the train, and the cavalry.
His position was in about the centre of a straight portion of the line of the woods, ending at a point nearest to the stream. He had been informed that Lieutenant Lyon would command the detachment that was to move towards the pike. This force could do little or nothing with their horses in the meadow, any more than the Confederate company. The sergeant had arranged in his mind just how the affair should be managed, and believed that Deck would hear his advice, as he often had before, whether he followed it or not.
The enemy remained at a halt in the stream, the officers and most of the troopers watching the woods in the direction from which the commands came; for Life had repeated them at intervals for some time. Like a prudent commander, the captain seemed to be unwilling to continue his fight with the mud until the unseen enemy, if there was one, had been seen, and his strength measured.
The sergeant looked at his great silver watch, and found that fifty minutes had elapsed since the departure of Milton. He had calculated closely that the re-enforcement would be on the ground in about half an hour; but probably his impatience had hurried his reckoning, and he made no allowance for the overhanging branches of the trees, which would to some extent impede the progress of the troopers.
But he had heard the sound of the horses' feet as he returned his watch to his pocket. He descended from the tree in hot haste, and rushed up the road with all the speed that his long legs would carry him. He soon discovered his lieutenant riding at the head of his platoon. Deck, as soon as he saw the sergeant, gave the order to walk the horses; for he desired to ascertain the nature of the situation before he reached the scene of the coming action.
He soon discovered his lieutenant riding at the head of his platoon."He soon discovered his lieutenant riding at the head of his platoon."Page 210.
"None o' my business, Leftenant; but I reckon you'd better halt, and take a look at things ahead," said the sergeant in a very low tone to the commander of the force, which consisted of nearly, or quite, eighty men, or more than three-fourths of the strength of the Confederate company, allowing it to be full, as it appeared to be.
Deck promptly accepted the suggestion, and gave the command; for he had only the meagre information conveyed to him by Milton, and he knew nothing whatever of any changes in the situation since he left his companion; and in the space of an hour it was possible that the condition of things on the meadow was entirely altered.
In the same low tone the sergeant suggested that he had better dismount, and go with him to the boundary line of the forest, where he could see for himself the position of the wagon-train and that of the enemy. This was just what the lieutenant wanted to know, and he at once complied with the suggestion of his faithful friend. They went to the point indicated, keeping behind the trees; for Deck did not wish the Confederates to draw any inference from his appearance so near the scene of action.
It required but a glance for the young officer to take in the field of action, while Life was explaining all that he had seen, and especially the taking to the water, like so many ducks, of the enemy. The escort of the train were still laboriously using their shoulders at the wheels of the wagons; while the mules, six attached to each vehicle, were struggling in the mud, and were most unmercifully beaten by their negro drivers. A snail or a turtle would have beaten in a race with the train.
"They can never get out of that mire," said Deck.
"Never while they travel the way they are going now," replied Life. "They are headed for the Jamestown Road, for I cal'late they don't know nothin' about this road we come by."
"That's a lieutenant in command of the escort," said the commander of the re-enforcement. "I don't think he shows good judgment, for he ought to get out of that mire on hard ground the shortest way he can do so; but I suppose he concluded that he could not get his wagons through the woods without cutting away the trees to make a road."
"This road ain't down on the maps."
"But I see all there is to be seen, Life; and I don't make out why the enemy halts in the water, if they mean to capture that train, and they have force enough to beat the escort twice over."
"I reckon I brought 'em to a halt," said the sergeant, as he described the ruse of his orders to an imaginary force. "I cal'late that cap'n didn't mean to fall into no trap."
"It was well thought of, Life; now I am ready to return to my command," added Deck, as he started for his detachment.
The sergeant wanted to ask the lieutenant what he intended to do, or, in other words, to obtain his plan of battle; for the young officer was about as reticent as his father in matters of this kind. But he had formed his plan, and was thinking it over. The first thing he did was to send Milton, on foot, over to the wagon-train, advising the lieutenant in command of the escort to rest his men, and not exhaust his force with a useless struggle in the mud; for a force was at hand which would assist him in getting the wagons to hard ground.
Deck explained to the sergeant that he had been somewhat delayed, before he left the main road, by Captain Gordon, who had given him precise directions as to his course after he had finished the affair on the meadow, whether he was defeated or successful in his mission; for the rest of the squadron, with the remainder of the riflemen, were to proceed immediately to the south, where the aide-de-camp had work for them in that direction.
"Lieutenant Butters!" called Deck, as he rode to the head of the riflemen's portion of the column.
The late jail-keeper rode to a little opening in the woods, where Deck had halted, and received his orders. He then formed his command in line, probably animated by the drill in which he had been engaged for two days. He then numbered them from one up to thirty. The sharpshooters then dismounted, and secured their horses in the woods. They were again formed in line. The platoon of cavalrymen were at rest, and Life was ordered to dismount them, while Deck marched with Butters and his command in single file into the woods on the left of the road.
On this side of the by-path the dividing-line between the meadow and the woods extended due north about a quarter of a mile to a point beyond which the stream and the low ground reached nearly to the main road.
"I want to see the enemy," said Butters. "I can't station my men till I can see what they are to fire at."
"Then we must go nearer to the meadow," replied Deck, as the lieutenant of the riflemen halted his command, and he led the way, both of them keeping behind the trees.
A change in the situation greeted the vision of Lieutenant Lyon as he reached a position where he could see the stream and the enemy.
"The Confederates have dismounted!" exclaimed Deck, as he pointed to the enemy for the benefit of his companion.
"So much the better!" added Butters.
"Of course they intend to attack the escort of the train on foot," said Deck. "All the men of the company are not yet out of the water; but they are marching by fours, with their carbines unslung, and they will fire as soon as they get near enough. I must leave you now, Lieutenant Butters, to bring my men forward," and the lieutenant hastened back to the road.
Butters ran to the left of his line, and marched his force, with the thirtieth man at his side, or next behind him, nearly to the point of the forest, where he stationed the one with the highest number, and then one in reverse order, about six feet apart, till the first number was stationed within a rod of the by-road. He had measured the distance very well, for the centre of his line was a few rods from opposite to the enemy.
Deck was at the end of the road when Butters reached it. He was ordered to fire as soon as he was ready. He had told the men when they were placed to fire as soon as the one on his right had done so. With this rule, no two or more of the riflemen would aim at the same trooper, as they could not fail to do in a volley. The first four of the enemy, with two officers on their left, were moving toward the mired wagon-train.
Milton had by this time reached the escort, and delivered the commander's message. The force had ceased their labors, and placed themselves behind the wagons, though they had their muskets ready for use. The enemy marched without difficulty, for the sod where it had not been broken was tough enough to bear them up; but in places the wandering cattle had cut it up very badly.
Butters in a low tone gave his orders to the first man in the line to fire, and every one would do the same, down to the thirtieth man, without any further command; but he had his rifle in his hand, and he fired himself before he gave the order to the soldier on his left. The crack of rifles began, and followed each other in rapid succession. With the fourth discharge five men had fallen, including the foremost of the two officers on the flank, whom Butters had brought down himself.
Apparently not one of the sharpshooters missed his aim. They adopted the method used in the battle on the hill, and kept behind the trees, so that the enemy could see only the puff of smoke as each weapon was discharged, and the men were out of sight, or nearly so. Not less than twenty men had dropped, either killed or wounded. The sharpshooters were Kentucky riflemen, whose fame had been celebrated in story and song, and their weapon had been their plaything from their earliest years.
Suddenly a hoarse command was heard; but its meaning could not be made out till the men in column dropped upon the ground, and extended themselves at full length, with their feet directed towards the woods. At the same time another order was given nearer to the stream, and the troopers in the water began to remount their horses. The men in the meadow began to crawl back as hurriedly as possible to the brook. The troopers hurried their horses as much as they could in the water, and their progress was tolerably rapid.
The stream continued to extend at about an equal distance from the forest. The men on the ground continued to drag themselves like snakes on the sod of the meadow till they reached the water, and mounted their horses; but not a few of them were shot in their progress, though their position on the ground was not favorable to the aim of the riflemen. Deck saw that the enemy would soon be out of the reach of the rifles if they continued to follow the creek, and he ordered Butters to move his men to the left.
Butters sent the command down the line from man to man till it reached the thirtieth man, who led the file to the point. The riflemen continued to fire as fast as they could load their weapons, but still in the order designated at first. Butters at his first shot after the change of position had brought down the lieutenant in command near the head of the column; and he believed the captain of the company had been the first to fall by the ball from his rifle on the meadow.
The men dropped rapidly under the fire of the concealed riflemen, and an officer who had taken the place of the one near the head of the column in the water was evidently appalled by the havoc in the command. He shouted an order to his men, which could not be understood in the woods; but it was inferred when the men suddenly dismounted, and began to lead their animals, placing them between themselves and the forest.
CHAPTER XVII
THE OVERWHELMING DEFEAT OF THE ENEMY
Sergeant Knox had marched the platoon of dismounted cavalry to a position near the end of the road, in readiness to move to the assistance of the train escort, as ordered by Lieutenant Lyon, when he saw the enemy marching over the meadow towards the wagons. When Deck realized the havoc made by the sharpshooters in the ranks of the Confederate company, he suspended the command to move, and watched the flow of events from the woods. He saw the enemy on the meadow drop upon the ground, and those in the water remount their horses.
Leaving Life in command, with orders to move to the train if the enemy approached it, he made his way over to the point where he could obtain a better view of the troopers in the water. He found them wading in the stream, covered by their horses. Butters was a great horse-fancier, as well as a dead shot with his rifle, and had ordered his men by message along his line not to kill the animals if they could help it.
"You are not doing as much execution among the enemy as you were, Lieutenant Butters," said Deck as he came up with the head of the sharpshooters.
"I am not, for the Cornfeds have made breastworks of their horses," replied the volunteer lieutenant. "I ordered my men not to kill the poor beasts if they could help it."
"I think that was a mistake," added Deck.
"The hosses ain't Seceshers," replied Butters, not exactly pleased with his superior's criticism.
"But every one of the horses is doing more soldier work than any of the men; for he is saving his rider from certain death, and the soldiers can't do that for each other," replied Deck, made somewhat earnest by the tone of the commander of the sharpshooters. "I love and respect a good horse as much as you do; and I sometimes think Ceph, the animal I ride, knows as much as I do, and in his way more. Your men are the most skilful with the rifle as a body I ever saw or heard of. But those horses are not such as you raise in this part of Kentucky, or where I came from. They are mean stock, and though I am sorry to do so, I must order you to shoot the horses; for your compassion for the poor beasts has brought the action to a standstill, and we are doing nothing."
"I don't know but you are right, Lieutenant Lyon; at any rate, I obey your orders," replied Butters, mollified by the compliment to his men and himself, to say nothing of the praise of Kentucky horses.
"Your men have ceased firing," added Deck, who did not believe in any stay of a successful action.
"The men have come to the end of the line, and I have not started a new round," Butters explained.
"Then start it by bringing down the first horse at the head of the column," continued the Riverlawn lieutenant. "Tell the next man to bring down the soldier as the horse drops. Do you know the location of the horse's brain?"
"I ought to; I'm a hoss-doctor to home, and I've had to shoot 'em afore now when they got a broken leg, or were too sick to get well. You'll see whether I know where the brains is," replied Butters, as he raised his rifle and fired. "Fire at the man!" he called to the first number in the line as the animal dropped, splashing his former rider with water, which seemed to blind him; for he was stooping forward, more effectually to conceal his head behind the animal.
Number one discharged his piece, and almost instantly the trooper followed the horse. Butters went to the second rifleman, and ordered him to shoot the next horse, telling him the part at which he was to aim. He proceeded along the whole length of the line, instructing the even numbers to shoot the horse, and the odd the man. Not a man failed to hit his mark, and there was soon a gap in the column. Every officer had fallen, and a panic seized the privates as the death-line marched up the stream. They were brave men; but the horses and men seemed to fall as though they had been prostrated by bolts from heaven, and the men could not see their executioners.
Without any orders, unless the sergeants gave them, the men leaped out of the stream, and ran with all the speed the nature of the ground would permit. The deserted horses remained in the brook, and not another one of them was shot. Not only those who had been more nearly exposed to the deadly fire of the sharpshooters, but those who were far in the rear of them, fled from the field. Of course they had leaped out of the water on the farther side of the stream, and were running to the north, or in the direction of the road from Jamestown to Harrison, and were liable to fall in with the outskirts of General Thomas's camp.
Deck witnessed the utter rout of the company of cavalry, and he proceeded to thank Butters and his men for the very effective service they had rendered. They had fought the battle and won it, and the cavalrymen had done nothing to assist them. The lieutenant of the company of Unionists expressed his opinion loud enough to be heard by all the sharpshooters, that there was not another body of men in the whole country that could equal them in the accuracy of their aim. He should commend them in the highest degree to Major Lyon, and his report would be transmitted in due time to the general in command.
"I will leave you and your men here, Lieutenant Butters, to watch the enemy," continued Deck. "In about an hour or two send me a report of anything that happens about here;" and he hastened back to the foot of the by-road.
The battle had been fought and apparently won; for the Confederates were out of rifle-range in a very short time. A vigorous cheer was sent up about the time that Deck came in sight of the train, proving that they realized their own safety and that of the train. But the young lieutenant's brain was busy, though he ordered his command to return the cheer of the escort.
The wagons, over a dozen in number, were safe from the hands of the enemy; for they had enough to do in the vicinity of Logan's Cross Roads, as the roar of the cannon in the battle was heard in the distance. Deck was studying up some way to extricate the wagons from their miry plight. If he could but procure a sufficient quantity of boards or planks, he could get them to the hard ground. He asked Milton if any could be procured, and was assured that none could be obtained short of Jamestown.
He gave the order to march, and directed Life to go ahead, and select the most favorable ground for the passage. The lieutenant followed him at the head of his command, and reached the train in a short time; and though some of the soldiers had sunk in the mud down to their knees, they were pulled out of it. The lieutenant of the escort had renewed his struggle to move the wagons forward when Deck saluted him as he came out to meet him.
"Lieutenant Lyon of the Riverlawn Cavalry," said Deck, as he gave his hand to the officer.
"I need not say that I am exceedingly glad to meet you, for you have saved my men and the wagon-train," was the answer. "Permit me to present myself as Lieutenant Sterling of the Ninth Ohio Infantry."
"You have had a hard march from the pike so far."
"I have; the toughest time I ever had in my life, and I have seen some deep mud before," replied Lieutenant Sterling. "Without your timely aid, my command would all have been prisoners, and the wagons been in possession of the enemy. But I am bewildered at the manner in which you have done this thing. I did not see your force till you marched out on the meadow. I heard a number of rifle-cracks, as I judged they were, but I did not see a man."
"It was wholly done by a volunteer company of riflemen, attached to my platoon for this occasion."
"I saw the enemy fall when they started to march over here, and after they took to the stream; but I could not make out the force that fired the shots. There must have been a hundred of them."
"Only thirty of them; but I believe they did not waste a shot," replied Deck. "Will you oblige me by giving me the date of your commission?"
"Whatever the date of my commission, I shall cheerfully resign the command to you; for you have a larger force than mine, and you have fought the battle here that saved me, though you must have been outnumbered by the enemy. My commission bears date Dec. 27."
"I was commissioned two weeks earlier than that."
"Then you rank me, and I am very glad that it is so," answered Lieutenant Sterling; and he proceeded to inform his command of the fact, for all of them had been ordered to suspend work.
"Do you happen to know what any of your wagons contain?" asked Deck, who was ready to address himself to the task of moving the wagons to the forest road.
"They are loaded for the most part with rations for the troops, and grain for the horses and mules, with some general supplies."
"Do you know if there is any rope among the supplies?"
"The quartermaster-sergeant can answer that question better than I can," replied the officer.
"Plenty of it, Lieutenant," replied this man. "It is in the first wagon in the line."
"Bring out at least a hundred feet of inch-rope," added Deck. "You were not moving the wagons to the nearest hard ground."
"My aim was to get them to a road indicated on the map over in that direction," replied Lieutenant Sterling, pointing over towards the one by which the Riverlawns had come from Jamestown. "According to the scale on my map it is about two miles over there."
"That is very true; but, according to the fact, it is less than a third of a mile to the woods where we came upon the meadow."
"But it would take me longer to cut a road through the woods to the road than it would to wallow through the mud to the road."
"But there is a by-road through the woods to the main road."
"I am a total stranger here, and I did not know there was even a path through the woods," added the lieutenant from Ohio, as the quartermaster-sergeant rolled the rope out of the wagon.
Deck called his men, who had been thoroughly rested by their stay in the woods, whether they needed it or not. The long rope was uncoiled; and Life was directed to make the two ends of it fast to the end of the pole, and pass it out through the three pairs of mules. Sixty men were detailed to man the rope in two lines. This required a part of the escort, and the rest of it were ordered to stand by the wheels. The negro driver of the first wagon was told by Life to go to the rear end and push; but this was done only to get him out of the way, for his brutality had disgusted both the lieutenant and the sergeant, as both of them believed in kindness to animals. They had seen the beatings bestowed on the animals before; and Deck, looking through his glass, was satisfied that the mules did not pull a pound under the beating. Perhaps they were disgusted with the failure of their efforts to move the wagon, as well as by the blows heaped upon them.
Life patted them on the neck, and coaxed them, and he certainly succeeded in bringing them to a good-natured condition of mind.
"Now, boys, straighten out them ropes!" shouted Life to the soldiers who manned them. "Pull steady for all you're wuth! Now, my beauties! Hi! now! Come, my beauties!" said he, taking the nigh head leader by the head, and leading him along.
To the astonishment of the men looking on, this mule made a flying leap nearly out of his harness, and then pulled as steadily as a well-trained horse; and the rest of the team followed his example. Life seemed to have some hypnotic power over a horse, and it appeared that he had the same influence over the mules. The men tugged at the rope, and the wagon was hauled out of the mire.
"Keep it moving!" shouted Deck. "If you stop, it will mire again. Keep it a-going!"
The men seemed to regard the work as a sort of enjoyable farce; and they cheered each other along, and some of them took to singing. They did not seem to be exerting all their strength, but the wagon moved along at quite a lively pace. If they had stopped two minutes, the wheels would have sunk down into the mud.
"John Brown's wagon got stuck in the mud,And we pull it through the black miry flood,As we go marching on,"
"John Brown's wagon got stuck in the mud,And we pull it through the black miry flood,As we go marching on,"
"John Brown's wagon got stuck in the mud,
And we pull it through the black miry flood,
As we go marching on,"
sang the soldiers; and in a few minutes more they landed the first of the wagon-train high and dry in the by-road.
Here one of the riflemen was waiting for the lieutenant, being a messenger from Butters.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE FLAG OF TRUCE ON THE MEADOW
The soldiers thought it was nothing but amusement to drag the wagon out of the mud and haul it to the woods. Sixty men and six mules made comparatively easy work of it. It was nearly dinner-time, and Deck had ordered the meal to be served on the meadow to those that remained there of the escort. During all this time the heavy guns had been thundering in the vicinity of Logan's Cross Roads; and as the day advanced the roar was perceptible nearer, indicating that the enemy had been driven from the first field towards the south.
The men proceeded to eat their dinner from their haversacks, while the quartermaster-sergeant had taken rations from the wagon for the portion of the escort that had come over to the woods. As soon as Lieutenant Lyon had given his attention to the needs of his men and horses, he turned to receive the message of the rifleman. Life gave his personal attention to the six mules that had come over, and they were supplied with a very liberal feed of corn and oats.
"Lieutenant Butters directs me to report to you that the enemy are returning across the meadow, flying a flag of truce at the head of the column," said the rifleman when Deck indicated that he was ready to hear him; and only a few minutes elapsed while he was giving his orders.
"How many men are returning?" asked the lieutenant.
"They were too far off for us to count them; but we guessed there were about sixty of them, for they must have lost at least forty in killed and wounded, to say nothing of the latter who were not disabled. Lieutenant Butters wants to know what to do about the flag of truce."
"How far off are they now?" asked Deck.
"They were some distance beyond the stream when I left, about half an hour ago."
"Return to Lieutenant Butters; tell him I will be with him very soon, and ask him to send half his men, good strong fellows, to assist in getting the wagons out of the mire," replied Deck; and the rifleman left in obedience to the order.
The men and the animals were all busy with their dinner, and the presence of the lieutenant was no longer necessary for a time. He spoke to his orderly sergeant, who was eating his dinner with the mules, and started for the point, eating the contents of his haversack on the way. On his arrival he found Butters engaged in selecting the men to send over to the assistance of the cavalrymen.
"Gittin' wagons out of the mud ain't exactly the work for sharpshooters," growled Butters as Deck approached him. "But I have called for volunteers."
"It is the work of soldiers to do whatever is to be done," replied the cavalry officer, who was not pleased with the growl, or the tone in which it had been made.
"It is not exactly the work of sharpshooters to work in the mud," returned Butters, apparently unwilling to have his men ordered away from his immediate command.
"You are volunteers; and if you object to obeying my orders, you may march your men back to Millersville," replied Lieutenant Lyon with dignity enough for a major-general.
"Do you mean to send us back?" demanded Butters angrily.
Deck saw that, from the first, the lieutenant in command of the riflemen was afflicted with an attack of the "big head," and considered himself as the practical superior of the young officer who was his military superior by the order of the major commanding. The cavalry officer was not "puffed up" by his position, but he felt the necessity of maintaining his dignity as the chief of the entire force on the ground.
"I do not send you back, but I give you permission to retire from the field," added Deck.
"I should like to ask who has done all the work that has been done in this place?" demanded Butters.
"I admit that your men have done the most of it," answered the lieutenant, when the entire thirty riflemen had gathered near to hear the dispute; "but if you are not willing to obey my orders, I can get along better without you than with you. If you desire to retire from the field, I have nothing more to say."
"No! no! no!" shouted half the men.
"You can do as you please, Lieutenant Butters," added Deck, when he realized that a majority of the riflemen were with him.
They had seen Deck in the thickest of the fight at the hill, and heard all about his conduct in other actions from the members of the company with whom they had fraternized at the jail, and it is not stating it too strongly to say, in figurative terms, that he was the idol of the Riverlawn Cavalry.
"I was calling for volunteers, and meant to obey your order, Lieutenant Lyon," said Butters.
"But you objected to it, and there is no emergency in the present situation."
"Volunteers to work in the medder, walk over to my right!" ordered the lieutenant of the riflemen, though with very ill grace.
Deck's ideas of discipline were of the severe order, and it was against his principles to call for volunteers for any ordinary service, though proper enough for that of a desperate nature; for it was his opinion that soldiers should obey orders without any question, and he was on the point of countermanding the call, when every one of the riflemen rushed over to the side indicated.
"Lieutenant Butters, you will detail fifteen men for duty in connection with the cavalry, and send them over to the end of the by-road," said Deck in his usual quiet tones; and turning on his heel without another word, returned to his men, finishing his dinner on the way.
He heard some rather strong talk before he passed out of earshot, and it was plain the riflemen were giving their officer some points in military discipline. Not a word was said about the enemy; for Deck saw that they were still at a considerable distance beyond the creek, and he intended to return as soon as he had started his force for the other wagons. The fifteen volunteers promptly appeared. The removal of the wagons from the meadow was given in charge of Sergeant Knox, and Deck went again to the point where Butters was waiting for him.
"I reckon I was wrong in the little muss we had a while ago; but I'm ready to apologize for it," said the commander of the riflemen. "I hain't got used to strict military discipline; but I shall be all right after this."
"It isn't necessary to say anything more about that matter," replied Deck. "The Confederates that you defeated so handsomely have reached the stream; they are still showing the white flag."
"I reckon they are in a bad way; but I don't see what they come back for," added Butters, pleased to find that the lieutenant had nothing more to say about his insubordination.
"Let your men take their rifles and follow me," added Deck, as he began to descend the slope to the meadow.
"Hallo! Hallo!" shouted a voice in the direction of the by-road.
"That's a man in uniform," said Butters, as he discovered the person.
The cavalry lieutenant reascended the bank, and saw the individual in uniform. Without saying anything he hastened towards him.
"I am exceedingly glad to see you, Captain Woodbine," he said, as the aide-de-camp extended his hand to him. "I am greatly in need of advice from a person of your experience."
"But you seem to have done exceedingly well without any advice so far; for the sentinel in the road informed me that you had saved the wagon-train, had defeated a company of Confederate cavalry, and brought one of the vehicles to the hard ground by an expedient of your own," continued Captain Woodbine, still shaking the hand of the lieutenant. "I see that boys sometimes become men of experience all at once, when an emergency is presented to them."
"I have done what I could here," replied Deck, studying the soil under his feet.
"With twenty years' experience no one could have done better," said the captain heartily; "and not many could have done so well. But I suppose you would like to learn something about the battle which is still in progress, though the enemy have been driven a considerable distance to the southward."
"We have been hearing the heavy guns here since we reached the meadow, and I should be very glad to know the result, for I hope our squadron will have some hand in the fight," replied Deck, looking with interest into the face of the visitor.
"You have already had some hand in it, for you have rendered one company of Confederate cavalryhors de combat, and saved that supply-train; and the general has had some anxiety about it, for it would be a godsend to the enemy, half starved as they are. Thus you have rendered a double service to our army. But what are you doing over here?"
"I will show you in a few minutes," answered Deck; and he gave a brief account of the action with the enemy in the meadow and in the creek, and their final flight to the north. "I don't understand why they are coming back under a flag of truce."
"I understand it very well. If they had gone as far as the woods you see about a mile beyond the creek, they would have come on the flank of our army; and very likely they were fired upon, and compelled to retire, for the battle is still raging in and beyond that wood."
"I conclude that they want to surrender; and sixty prisoners of war, with their wounded, would be an encumbrance to me," added Deck, as they reached the border of the meadow.
"What were you about to do when I came, Lieutenant?" inquired the captain.
"I was going out to the spot by the stream where the bearers of the flag have halted."
"Can't the man in command of the riflemen do that?"
"I would not trust him with such business," replied Deck. "He is a good enough sort of man, but he is troubled to some extent with the malady called the 'big head,' and he is an ignorant fellow, and his greatest virtue is his skill with his rifle."
The aide-de-camp went to as open a place as he could find, waved his cap over his head, and then beckoned vigorously for the enemy's cavalrymen to come to the wood. He repeated the sign several times, and then they crossed the stream and moved towards the point.
"That's all right," continued Captain Woodbine, as he took the lieutenant by the arm, and conducted him out of the hearing of the riflemen. "This matter is delaying me; but I think we can manage it. I have received a messenger from the general, who was the bearer of a letter, hastily written with a pencil on the field, to the effect that the enemy has been beaten, and are falling back. He believes that it will be a rout before night; and the First Kentucky Cavalry has been sent over here to harass the defeated army of Zollicoffer, who was killed on the field."
"That is all good news," said Deck.
"But the end has not come yet. I was sent over here on account of my knowledge of the country, to convey the general's orders to such commanders as I might meet; and while I am delaying here I am afraid the Kentucky regiment will pass the head of the by-road, and I shall fail to see the commander."
"But I can send one of these riflemen to the main road, with a written order to await the arrival of the regiment, and direct the force to wait," suggested Deck.
"Call up the messenger," added the captain, as he proceeded to write the order in his memorandum-book; and it was sent by the mounted rifleman.
"The general feared that a flanking force might have been sent over by Zollicoffer by this road; and that is the reason that I asked the general for the use of your squadron. He particularly charged me to help along the wagon-train if it was not already captured, as it certainly would have been if the lieutenant commanding the escort had not taken to the meadow. Now I am in haste to get your squadron and the rest of your regiment, for you belong to it, in a position where this force will be available in checking the retreat of the enemy, and you may have more fighting to do before night, or in the evening."
At this moment Lieutenant Sterling of the train escort touched his cap to his senior in rank, and reported that the wagons had all been hauled to the woods, and were in the by-road.
"How many men have you, Lieutenant?" asked the captain.
The chief of the escort looked at Deck, and did not answer at once.