"Deck!"
"Artie!"
And the two brothers rushed into each other's arms, while Colonel Lyon stood by, his face full of joy over the return of his son. Artie had told the story of Deck's capture, and both he and the colonel had felt almost positive that they would not see the major again for a long while to come, and perhaps never again.
"Yes, I've had a very fortunate escape," said Deck, as he shook his father's hand. "I wouldn't be here at all were it not for Tom Derwiddie."
"Tom Derwiddie?" queried Artie.
"Yes. Don't you remember him—the Confederate soldier I assisted at the burning cotton mill?"
"And you met him?" put in Colonel Lyon.
"I did. I was placed in his charge for a few minutes, and he very accommodatingly gave mehis pistol, freed my hands, and let me knock him down," continued the major, with a laugh, and then told his tale in detail.
"Well, you are more than lucky," said Artie, when he had finished. "Finding Ceph was worth a good deal, eh?"
"It was worth as much as escaping," answered Deck, and he stroked the noble steed affectionately. "I wish you could tell your story, too, old boy!" And Ceph gave him a poke with that nose of his. It seemed as if the steed did most of his talking with that nose.
Others had gathered around, Captain Life Knox, Sandy Lyon, and Uncle Titus, and Deck's story had to be retold to them. In the meantime he was served with a hot supper, and later on, given the means to change his wet clothing for dry.
"You ought to have something to tell the general," said Titus Lyon to him. "Of course you kept your eyes and ears open while you were over there."
"No, Uncle Titus, I didn't. I promised the fellow who assisted me to say nothing, and I intend to keep my promise. But I wish I couldhave collared that Captain Brentford, and brought him along."
The Riverlawns were encamped at the foot of a hill not far from Crawfish Springs. It was a fine place for a camp, and many of the privates were already sleeping soundly. Soon Deck and his relatives and friends retired, only the pickets being kept awake. In spite of his adventures, the major slumbered soundly, and did not arise until the Sabbath dawn was well advanced.
It was felt by both sides that the morrow would tell the tale of defeat or victory, and all night long Generals Rosecrans and Bragg were busy arranging their plans. The former could get no reënforcements worth mentioning; but to the Army of Tennessee were now added reënforcements under General Longstreet, who arrived shortly before midnight, to assume personal charge of the corps temporarily commanded by Hood. A rough estimate of the troops on both sides at this time places the number of Unionists at fifty-five thousand, as against nearly seventy thousand Confederates. But what they lacked in numbers, the Army of the Cumberland made up in position, for they occupied higher ground thantheir opponents—something of great strategic importance, as we will soon see.
It must be confessed that General Rosecrans's troops were all but exhausted. Every soldier, excepting two divisions, had been thrown into the fight on Saturday, and every division had marched and countermarched until some of the infantry hardly knew whether they had feet or not. On the other hand, Bragg had three divisions and three brigades who had not participated in the battle, and who were thus fresh in every sense of the word.
The battle was again to be for the Lafayette road and the mountain gaps near it—the gateway to Chattanooga and the East. The centre of the field was the farm owned by a man named Kelley. The battle front of the Unionists ran around the northeast corner of the farm, across the Lafayette road and to the southwestward. The firing line was more compact than on Saturday, two brigades of each division being placed in front, with the third brigade behind, in reserve. At the left of the line was Baird, with Johnson, Palmer, and Reynolds following, in something of a semicircle. South of this semicircle lay Brennanand Negley, with Davis and Sheridan guarding the vicinity of the Widow Glenn's—still Rosecrans's headquarters. As before, the cavalry was stationed at both ends of the line, although the larger portion remained between the Chickamauga and Crawfish Springs, to do regular duty and also help guard the field hospital previously mentioned.
Bragg's forces overlapped those of Rosecrans's both on the right and the left. Opposite to Baird was Breckinridge, who had just come up, with Armstrong, Pegram, and Forrest overlapping the Unionists' left wing. Next to Breckinridge came Cleburn, Steward, Johnson, and Hindman's battery. Behind Johnson lay Law and Kershaw, with Cheatham and Walker still further back, on the right; while Gracie, Kelly, and Preston were to the rear on the left.
During the night the Army of the Cumberland was not idle, even though a majority of the soldiers slept soundly. The pioneers were out in force, with the Engineering Corps, and many barricades of trees, logs, and brush were piled up, along with sods and loose rocks. The Confederates heard the ringing of axes and the crashingof timber as it came down, but could do nothing toward stopping the construction of these defences.
Sunday morning dawned with a heavy fog filling the valleys—a fog so dense that the mountains were shut out, giving the battle-ground, from every point of view, the appearance of a ghostly plain. This fog did not begin to lift until nine or ten o'clock. Bragg had given Polk orders to begin the battle, but minute after minute passed and the Confederate leader sat impatiently astride of his horse, waiting in vain for the sounds of the conflict.
"What is the matter with Polk,—why in common sense doesn't he do something?" General Bragg is reported to have said, and started off for the right wing personally. He found Polk absent from the field and no preparations being made to attack Baird. As the fog lifted, he saw how his right overlapped the Union left, and how the Rossville road was thus left open, and Breckinridge and Cleburn were given orders to advance without delay.
In the meantime Thomas had ordered Negley to reënforce Baird. But only one division couldbe spared, which was rushed to the scene with all possible speed, and that was all the support the left flank received.
At half past nine the battle was on, Breckinridge and Cleburn coming swiftly onward with a ringing yell, to meet a sturdy resistance from Baird and Beatty's division of Negley's brigade. The contest was fierce from the very opening, and for a while it looked as if the left flank would be completely annihilated and Baird's command made prisoners. But regiments and divisions under Johnson, Stanley, and Vandever were hurried to the scene, and, suffering heavily, Breckinridge was thrown back, with two generals killed and his chief of artillery mortally wounded.
By this time the battle had extended down the line, and now Cleburn, Walker, Cheatham, and others became involved. The artillery on both sides were pouring forth shot, shell, and canister at a fearful rate, and whole lines of brave infantry were mowed down like blades of grass.
With the repulse of the Confederates' right the hopes of the Unionists ran high, but when victory seemed almost assured, a grave blunderat the Union centre brought fearful disaster to the Army of the Cumberland. Receiving an order to close up to Reynolds, Wood took it to mean that he was to fall back in support, and he left the Union centre to do this. The gap was quickly filled by Longstreet, and thus the right and left wings of the Army of the Cumberland became separated, and henceforth two battles ensued instead of one, on ground from a half a mile to one mile apart. To the east of Kelley's Farm and the Lafayette road were Baird, Johnson, Palmer, and Reynolds, still in their old semicircle, while to the westward of the road was a jagged, but unbroken, line composed of nearly all the other troops. The Confederate forces lay scattered in several directions, but principally in front of both of the positions mentioned.
The disaster to the centre, followed by a determined attack on the right, was more than the Union troops could bear, and they were forced to give up ground, until another stand was taken, as described above. In the meantime, Thomas was in ignorance of the state of affairs on the right, yet he soon discovered that he was fightingmore than his share of the enemy on the left. He had massed his artillery on the slopes of Missionary Ridge, and now he withdrew from his breastworks of trees and dirt, and took up a position here. To get to the ridge was no easy work, and the slaughter counted up into the thousands upon both sides.
A pause in the tide of battle followed. Like two giants the armies faced each other, getting their "second wind," and speculating on how to proceed next. Thomas held the ridge and the Confederates were bound to drive him from it and shatter his forces. It was two o'clock and assault after assault was made, lasting until sundown. At times the Confederates would gain a slope or a minor ridge, but a Union division or a brigade would rush upon them and dislodge them, or a battery would literally cut them to pieces. The charges were truly magnificent, but Thomas and his forces stood like so many rocks, and could not be dislodged. At sundown the attacks ceased, and it was well that this was so, for many of the Union troops were short of ammunition. In some cases the latter attacks were repulsed solely with bayonets and clubbed muskets.
With the coming of night, it was deemed advisable to have Thomas's forces withdraw in the direction of Chattanooga, and this plan was carried out, although not without additional fighting, in which a few men were lost and a large number of infantry were made prisoners. By this movement the Army of the Cumberland was again reunited, and stood once more as a wall between General Bragg and Chattanooga.
When Major Deck Lyon awoke in the morning he found the encampment of the Riverlawns submerged in mist so thick it almost appeared as if it was raining. Major Tom Belthorpe and Captain Artie Lyon were already astir, and the three gathered together, to talk over the situation.
They were not, however, left alone long. Colonel Lyon had already been moving around, surveying the "lay of the land," and had made the discovery that a large portion of the enemy had crossed the Chickamauga. While an early breakfast was being eaten, orders came to march the regiment up to a position midway between the creek and the hospital on the field.
The road ran for some distance parallel withthe creek, with short brush on one side and a sparse growth of trees on the other. It was uneven and the cavalry had torn it up considerably.
The first battalion was well in advance, when, without warning, a regiment of the enemy poured down on them from the woods. The first intimation of the proximity of the Confederates was a round from four companies, which tore through the ranks of Captain Artie Lyon's command, killing three and wounding twice as many more.
Without waiting for orders from the colonel, who was riding in the rear, watching Major Truman's battalion, Major Deck Lyon called a halt, and swung the first and second companies into position. "Take aim—fire!" was the command, and the bullets clipped hither and thither through the trees. One Confederate was thus taken unawares and the whole regiment brought to a halt.
But though repulsed, the enemy did not halt long. In less than a minute the Confederate colonel gave the command for nearly his whole regiment to advance, and the leading companies came out of the timber on the double-quick. Aportion of them fired again at the first battalion of the Riverlawns while the remainder reserved their ammunition for Tom Belthorpe's four companies.
Colonel Lyon now galloped up and looked inquiringly at his son. "Deck, what does this mean?"
"We are caught, father, that is what it means," answered the major. "If you will allow me to say so, I think we had best re-form behind yonder brush."
"I will take your advice, for you have felt the enemy," said Colonel Lyon, and lost not an instant in giving the necessary orders. By the time the shelter of the brush was gained, the firing line of the Confederates was fairly well defined, and the colonel placed his own men, four companies abreast, and two companies deep, with the second half of the second battalion and the second half of the third battalion in reserve. Ten sharpshooters from Captain Life Knox's command and an equal number from Captain Ripley's company were detached, to make a detour and learn the true fighting force of the body thus suddenly encountered.
The Confederates had advanced as far as the edge of the woods. Between this and the road lay a small patch of grass, so that the cleared space between the brush and the first row of timber was a little over a hundred feet. The brush was heavy along the road, and the first row of the Riverlawns, dismounted, were as close up to this natural defence as possible.
The open space disturbed the Confederate colonel and he hardly knew whether to trust a rush across it or not. But, finally, he gave the order, and four of his companies came on, spread out in a skirmish line. They fired as they came, and received a sharp fire in return. At the brush they hesitated, and while doing this, received a volley from the Riverlawns behind.
"This is going to be warm work!" observed Major Belthorpe to Deck, as he galloped up on his black charger. "That fellow must have a good reserve force somewhere back there."
"Ripley and Knox have found them, that's certain," answered Deck, as a rattle of guns came from the sides of the enemy. "We'll soon get their report."
At that instant Colonel Lyon dashed up.
"There are but eleven companies of them," he said. "I think by a rapid dash to the north we can turn their flank and either make them retreat or surrender."
"Let us make the move then," said Belthorpe, and Colonel Lyon gave the orders. Soon the Riverlawns were in rapid motion, to the Confederates' surprise, and likewise their bewilderment.
Life Knox was responsible for the movement which was now being made. He had not only aided in uncovering the true strength of the enemy opposed to the Riverlawns, but he had made a discovery that he considered of great importance. Colonel Lyon had agreed with him and had acted on his advice.
As has been said, the timber faced the road. It was uneven ground, and to the north there was a sharp rise, running from the highway to a regular cliff ten rods to the rear. To the south, the rise sloped away into a hollow, at the lower end of which was a swamp having apparently no outlet.
The Confederate regiment had come upon the Riverlawns at a spot midway between the rise of ground and the swamp. If, therefore, the Riverlawns could gain the high ground, they would command the situation, for the enemy wouldeither have to retreat to the swamp, or take to the highway and the field.
Colonel Lyon well knew that success depended very largely upon quickness of movement, and the order was passed to make the quickest time possible in advancing as indicated. All the Riverlawns' horses were of the best, and the way they tore over the brush and up the highway was marvellous to behold.
"After 'em boys, we have 'em on the run!" shouted one of the Confederate majors, and he started his battalion along the highway. He was given the chance to fire one volley, and received another in return, from Major Truman's command. He would have kept on running had not his colonel ordered him back. The Confederate commander knew there was no need for the Unionists to retreat and began to "smell a mouse."
The high ground was gained, and the first battalion, under Deck, galloped into the open timber. Life Knox, who had just been over the ground, rode in advance, as a guide. The ground was rough, but Life was a thorough backwoodsman and easily pointed out the best trail. In less than five minutes the whole regiment was behindthe shelter of the trees, and by this time the first and second companies occupied positions directly in the rear of the Confederate reserves.
The reserves numbered but a company and a half, and not knowing what was taking place, the ranking captain ordered one round to be fired, and, receiving a round in return from the whole first battalion, started on a rapid retreat, to bring up against the companies from the road, which had just been turned in that direction.
These counter-movements in the timber, where the ground was sloping and rough, caused something of a mix-up, and before the Confederate colonel could bring order out of chaos, Colonel Lyon was swooping down upon him from the higher ground. The first and the third battalions were called into this action, and the Confederates ran like sheep down the slope toward the swamp.
As usual Deck was in the lead, and almost before he knew it he found himself face to face with the Confederate captain who had commanded the reserves. The captain was mounted like himself and fired at him with his pistol, while the two were less than five yards apart.
He found Himself Face to Face with the Confederate Captain.He found Himself Face to Face with the Confederate Captain.Page428.
A lucky leap on Ceph's part saved Deck from serious injury, if not from death, and in a flash captain and major came together, and sword met sabre in strokes which brought forth flashes of fire. The captain was a heavy-built man of twice Deck's age, and as their blades came together the major realized that he had engaged an opponent worthy of his steel.
Since joining the army, Major Lyon had practised industriously upon the sabre exercise, until he could handle that blade about as well as any officer, with a few exceptions. The captain was skilled in the use of the sword, and had it not been for the more important battle around them, both might have taken time to "try for points." But the present contest was not merely one of skill, it was one for supremacy, and Deck went at his man with a will from the very outset.
A parry and a thrust, and Deck felt the cold steel touch him in the rib. But a rearing up by Ceph saved him from serious injury, and he went at his man again. They had circled half way around, so that neither had an advantage, so far as the ground was concerned.
Suddenly the captain made a savage blow forDeck's neck, putting forth all his strength and quickness in the motion. Had the blow fallen as intended, the major's head might have fallen from his shoulders.
But Deck was wide awake, and warded off the blow by an upper-cut which nicked his sabre, but did no further damage. Before the captain could recover, the major threw his sabre over on a side thrust, and the Confederate received the point of the blade in his shoulder.
"Oh!" groaned the victim, and gave a gasp. He tried to recover, but Major Lyon was too fast for him. He hit the sword sharply, and in a twinkling it sailed into the trees, to lodge among some small branches. The weapon had hardly left the captain's hand when a riderless horse ran against his own, and he went down, under the runaway's feet. Ceph swerved to one side; and then Deck was carried away from the scene of the stirring encounter.
The combat had warmed the major's blood, and he rode to regain the front of his battalion. It was some distance down the slope, and as he moved along he saw Sandy Lyon having a hard time of it with two Confederate sergeants, whoseemed determined to bring the acting captain of the fifth company to grief. All three combatants were on foot, and it was a case of two pistols against a sabre, for Sandy's weapon was empty.
As Deck came up at full speed, or rather, as rapidly as the nature of the ground permitted, he saw his cousin on one knee, he having received an ugly wound below the left knee. One Confederate sergeant had fired his shot, and now his companion was about to follow it with a second, aimed at the acting captain's head.
Sandy Lyon made a stroke at the pistol with his sabre, but failed to reached it. The Confederate pulled the trigger, and it must be confessed that the young man who had fought so bravely since joining the Riverlawns gave himself up for lost. Even to Deck it looked as if Sandy was about to join his brother Orly as another victim of the grim Civil War.
But the pistol snapped without going off, the weapon being an old one and out of repair. "Hang the luck!" muttered the Confederate, and readjusted the trigger.
But Deck was too quick for him, and as themajor's weapon rang out, the Confederate's arm dropped to his side and the pistol fell to the ground. The major fired again, striking the second sergeant in the shoulder, and a moment later both surrendered and were made prisoners.
"It was a good turn, Deck!" murmured Sandy Lyon, and he tried to rise. But the pain in his wounded leg was too great, and he fainted. Calling two privates, Deck had him carried to the rear, and he was, later on, removed to the hospital at Crawfish Springs.
As expected, the Confederate regiment had, with the exception of two companies, been driven down to the swampy ground, and here they tried to take a stand. Their colonel had been wounded, one major was dead, and the several companies were hopelessly mixed up. The two missing companies had taken to the highway, thinking the others would follow.
"I think we have the fellows where we want them," said Colonel Lyon, riding up to his son. "Dexter, don't you think you can follow those who took to the road?"
"Certainly, I can," was the prompt reply from Deck, although he could not help but wonderhow bad that wound in the rib was. "How many companies got away?"
"Not more than two. You might take three companies with you."
"All right, Colonel," replied Deck, and started to find the companies in question.
Captain Abbey was busy down at the very edge of the swamp, but the second, third, and fourth companies were somewhat in the rear,—for the fierce hand-to-hand fighting had caused the battalion formations to disappear, although the companies were still in uneven lines. In a few words Deck explained to Captains Blenks and Richland, and his brother, what was expected of them, and the three companies swung around and made through the timber for the highway.
The Confederates had gone up the road a little beyond the rise. Here their leader had halted them, and sent back several messengers to tell of what he had done. The messengers were midway between the retreating troops and the scene of the conflict when Deck's command came upon them. There were three Confederates, and they came to a sudden stop in deep perplexity.
"Surrender!" cried Captain Blenks, who was at the front with the major. And as the Confederates made no sign he turned to his superior. "Shall I open on them, Major Lyon?"
"Yes," answered Deck, as one of the trio raised his pistol. He was about to fire when the second company sent in a volley, and the man dropped. The others turned and sped for their company at the best speed their legs could command.
"Forward!" ordered Major Deck, and away went the three companies up the highway until within two hundred yards of the Confederates. As they came up over the rise the enemy opened upon them, and they returned the fire. Then Deck turned to his brother.
"Artie, move over into the field and to their right," he said. "The other companies can handle them from the front."
Without delay Captain Artie Lyon switched off as commanded. The second company was sent to the opposite side, where there was a slight break in the timber.
The Confederate ranking captain, seeing this new move, and realizing that his command wasnot more than three-quarters as strong as the enemy, resolved to continue his retreat. But the road curved and this brought him closer and closer to the position Artie Lyon's company was riding for, a split in the road where there was a wide open field backed by some rocks impossible to travel across. Before the Confederate had time to think twice, Artie gave him two volleys, and, maddened beyond endurance, the Confederate ordered a charge in the hope of breaking through the Union line and rejoining the balance of the regiment of the South.
The rush was such as only certain Southern commands were in the habit of making, a wild, delirious oncoming, with but one purpose,—to crush all that was in front, regardless of consequences. These rushes were truly soul-inspiring and worthy of a better cause. In many cases they brought victory, but the victory was literally drowned out by the blood which flowed.
It was so in the present case. Captain Artie's company met the shock like true soldiers fighting for a cause they knew was both lofty and just. The clash of steel, the crack of musketry, the din, confusion, and smoke, the yelling and cheering,were beyond description. It was a hand-to-hand encounter, in which every man had to do for himself, leaving his nearest neighbor to do as he saw fit.
The shock came before Major Lyon could do anything to prevent it; but without waiting an instant he ordered the other companies to this part of the field, and both commands fired as they ran, aiming at the rear lines of the Confederates, which were not yet mixed up in the mêlée. The companies then went into close action, Captain Richland's men actually riding over the last line of the enemy.
Deck saw that Artie was being hard pressed personally, having gone directly to the front to urge his command to stand firm. The young captain was daring to the last degree. "Don't give them an inch!" he shouted. "Down with them! Drive them back, boys!" And the "boys" did drive them back, twenty yards or more. Artie was waving his sabre on high and continued in the front, when suddenly Deck was horrified to see him throw up both arms, reel from the saddle, and disappear from view in the surging mass of cavalrymen and infantry around him.
"Artie!" he cried, but the tumult drowned Deck's voice. Forgetting aught else, he urged Ceph into the lines and straight for that fatal spot, fully expecting to find poor Artie a corpse. He had yet a dozen yards to go when he saw Second Lieutenant Milton falling back bearing the young captain in his arms. Artie's eyes were closed, and the clothing about his left side was saturated with blood.
"Dead?" asked the major, hoarsely. He could scarcely speak.
"I'm afraid so, Major; but I'm not certain," was the answer. "Shall I take him to the rear?"
"Yes, Lieutenant, and see that he gets the best of care if he still lives," said Deck. "I will come myself, as soon as I can."
By this time the other companies had rushed in, and now the major found it absolutely necessary to re-form his battalion of three companies. This was done inside of five minutes, and by this time the force of the first shock was over; but the Confederates had lost nearly one-third of their command, while Captain Artie's company had fared little better.
Finding the rush of no avail, so far as breaking through was concerned, the Confederate leader thought once again of retreating. But Deck had hemmed him in, and a galling fire from the front and the left brought him to his wit's end. The fire was about to be repeated, when the second captain of the Confederates interfered, and after a few words had passed between him and his superior, a flag of truce was hoisted. The prisoners taken numbered exactly thirty-seven, all the other Confederates being either wounded or dead.
The fight had hardly drawn to a close when Colonel Lyon's orderly dashed up, to learn from Deck how things were going.
"They have surrendered," answered the major. "Their loss is very heavy and ours is likewise considerable—due entirely to their pig-headed leader, who kept on fighting when he should have saved his men and surrendered," he added, with perhaps more bitterness than was necessary. He was thinking of poor Artie.
"We have taken about half of the men in the swamp, and the battle is over there, also," said the orderly. "The remaining troops escapedinto the timber, and Captain Knox's company has gone after them."
"Tell Colonel Lyon that Captain Artie Lyon is either dead or badly wounded," said Deck, and rode off, to learn the truth concerning his cousin and foster-brother's condition.
Deck found Artie lying in a sheltered spot, on a hastily constructed couch of pine boughs. Over the wounded young man stood Surgeon Farnwright, binding up a ghastly wound in the shoulder.
"What do you think of this, Surgeon?" asked the major, anxiously.
"Your brother is in a bad way, Major," was the grave response. "The bullet has shattered the shoulder blade and gone into the back."
"What are his chances of recovery, in your opinion?"
"Not the best, to be candid. They would be better if he could be removed immediately to some house where he would not be disturbed. In such cases as these, sudden jarrings are ofttimes fatal."
"I will see what can be done for him," wenton Deck. "In the meantime, do your best for him."
"I always do my best in all our cases, Major," returned the surgeon, and turned away to aid some others who were wounded.
In a few minutes Colonel Lyon rode up and was taken to Artie's side. The poor fellow was now conscious, and on seeing them he tried to smile, but the attempt was a sickly one.
"Don't talk, Artie," said the colonel, as he saw the young captain make the attempt. "We will do what we can for you, and your recovery depends upon your keeping quiet."
"If you will relieve me from duty, I will try to find some house to which Artie can be taken," put in Deck. "I am afraid the field hospital is too far off."
"The trouble is, if we take him to a private place he will have no doctor's care," answered Colonel Lyon. "Surgeon Farnwright must remain with the others that are wounded."
At this announcement Deck's hopes fell for an instant. "Well, I'll see what I can do anyway—if you will let me off," he returned soberly. "It would be too bad to have him die for thewant of care. Mother would never forgive us—or Dorcas and Hope."
"That is true, Dexter." The colonel's voice sounded strangely husky. "Do your best,—and spare no money, if money is of avail," and he turned to consult with Surgeon Farnwright once more.
The major had noticed, during the ride along the timber road, a little farmhouse, set in a grove of walnuts, standing about a quarter of a mile back from the scene of the battle described in the last chapter. He now set off for this farmhouse post-haste, to see what accommodations it might offer.
It was past noon, and from a distance came a heavy firing. Although he did not know it, the Confederate cavalry had crossed the creek in force, and were now charging straight for Crawfish Springs and the hospital located there. The brigade under Colonel Long was sustaining the main attack, although other of General Mitchell's cavalry was in the vicinity.
As Deck rode toward the farmhouse, he noticed that all of the lower windows were boarded up, as if to resist an invasion. Someof the upper windows were also served in the same way, but two or three of them were partly unprotected.
Riding to the door, he dismounted, and used the iron knocker lustily. The clank-clank brought forth no reply, and he used the knocker again, with additional force.
"Please don't hammer that door down!" came in a shrill female voice, and now the head of an elderly lady appeared at one of the upper windows. The lady carried a pistol of ancient pattern in her hand, and her wrinkled face was full of determination.
"I should like to talk to you," said Deck, and he felt half like smiling when he saw the old-time weapon.
"I don't want to talk to you," was the short reply. "I have nothing to do with this war."
"I am sorry to disturb you, madam, but one of our captains has been badly wounded and he is in need of some quiet spot where he can rest."
"My place is no hospital, sir. Take him to the regular army hospital."
"Unfortunately, that is just what we cannotdo—for the present. He needs absolute quiet, or he may die."
"I don't want him here—don't want anybody here," was the slow but positive reply. "As I said before, I have nothing to do with this war."
"Perhaps you are a Southern sympathizer?" went on Deck, hardly knowing how to proceed.
"If I am it is none of your business, young man. I can tell you one thing, I am not afraid of a suit of soldier clothing, no matter who wears it."
"Oh, Aunt Clarissa, don't be rude," came in a soft voice from behind the elderly lady, and Deck saw a dainty hand placed on one of the gaunt shoulders.
"You be still, Rosebel," was the crusty interruption. "I can manage this matter very well alone. Do you think I am going to open my house to any of the military—least of all to those Yankees? I am sure if I won't have our own soldiers here I won't have those who are fighting us!"
"But he says the captain is badly wounded, and may die," pleaded Rosebel, and now she pressed closer to the window, to get a better look at the young Union officer below.
Her soft voice interested Deck, and he came as close as possible under the window to see her fully. As he gazed at her he gave a start. Where had he seen that face before? Somewhere, he was positive of it—but where?
"Rosebel, get back," ordered the elderly lady, and tried to crowd the maiden from the window, but she would not budge.
"Aunt Clarissa, remember, Paul is in the army," she said. "I know I did not want him to join, but if he was wounded and among strangers—" She did not finish, excepting with a long sigh.
Deck could hear her words plainly, and at the mentioning of the name, Paul, his heart gave a bound, then sank like a lump of lead in his bosom. He had found the missing sister of the young Confederate captain who lay in that cold trench many miles away, with a stick for a headstone, upon which was inscribed:—
Rosebel's Paul Lies Buried Here.
Rosebel's Paul Lies Buried Here.
"Your name is Rosebel?" he said; and his voice was as soft as when he had spoken to Kate Belthorpe in his most sentimental mood.
"Yes."
"And your brother Paul was a captain in the Confederate service?"
"Yes." And now the young lady's eyes began to fill with wonder.
"You lived in Chattanooga with your brother, and you—you had a difference of opinion about his joining the army?"
"We did have—and I am sorry for it," answered the maiden. "But who are you to speak thus to me? Do you know my brother?"
"Rosebel, do not be hasty in talking to this young man," interposed the aunt.
"I did know your brother, Miss Rosebel. I do not know your other name."
"And yet you knew my brother!"
"He must be telling falseho—" began the aunt, but the girl's hand over her mouth checked her.
"I fell in with a young Confederate captain whose name was Paul," explained Deck, sadly. "He said he had a sister Rosebel living in Chattanooga. He had quarrelled with that sister, and in anger had hidden some money away so that she could not get it."
"It was Paul!" cried Rosebel Greene, for suchwas her full name. "Oh, tell me about him, and how he came to tell you this. Is he well?"
The young major looked at her, then turned his face away.
"I am very sorry for you, Miss Rosebel, very sorry. He fought as only a true soldier can fight—to the end."
"He is dead!" came with a moan. "Paul is dead, Aunt Clarissa! Oh, what shall I do now?" And the girl sank into the elderly lady's arms.
It was a trying moment for Deck, especially so as he could do nothing, in his present position, to aid the young lady. He waited and saw both females leave the window. A minute after the front door was opened by the elderly lady, and he was asked to enter.
"I hope you are not fooling my niece," she said. "What is your name?"
"A man would not be human to fool upon such a heartrending subject," answered Deck. "I am Major Dexter Lyon, of the Kentucky cavalry. May I ask that young lady's name?"
"Rosebel Greene. I am Miss Clarissa Pomeroy, her aunt. Rosebel used to live in Chattanooga, but when Paul went to the war and tookall their money with him, she came to live here with me."
"Paul did not take the money with him, Miss Pomeroy. He left it behind him, in hiding. I was with him when he died, and I promised to find his sister, if possible, and tell her where the money was secreted."
The two entered the little sitting room of the farmhouse, where Rosebel had sank down in a rocking-chair, crying silently. In a broken voice she asked to be told about Paul, and sitting beside her, Deck gave her the particulars just as they had occurred, and told where the money was to be found. The recital brought tears to Deck's eyes, also, which he hastily brushed away, and Miss Pomeroy was likewise visibly affected.
"I am glad to know Paul wasn't so bad as to run off with the money," the elderly lady observed, after a vigorous use of her handkerchief. "The house in Chattanooga is shut up now, but even if it wasn't, it isn't likely anybody would hunt down in the cellar for that money."
"I would rather have Paul back!" moaned Rosebel Greene. "Oh, Paul, Paul, how much Ishall miss you!" And unable to restrain her emotions, she rushed from the room.
Deck was in a quandary, and looked at Miss Pomeroy. She saw his perplexity, and quickly made matters easy for him.
"You may bring that wounded officer here," she said. "We will do the best we can for him. Who is he?"
"His name is Captain Artie Lyon. He is in reality my cousin, but he has always been a member of our family, and I look at him almost as a twin brother."
"If he is so close a relative we will do our very best for him, Major Lyon," answered Miss Pomeroy. "I have had some experience as a nurse, and Rosebel is excellent around a sickbed."
"What he wants principally is quiet," rejoined Major Deck; and after a few words more he withdrew, his thoughts divided between poor Artie and the bereaved girl left behind.
It was no easy matter, in those trying times, to obtain an ambulance, and after scouting around for the best part of half an hour without success, Deck decided to have Artie carried on a stretcher to the farmhouse.
The young captain was in considerable pain, and the journey was by no means easy for him. Four men carried him, and Deck went along. Two rests were taken before the dwelling was gained. At the doorway both Miss Pomeroy and Rosebel met them. A small bed had been put up in the sitting room, and Artie was placed upon this; and hardly had this been accomplished when Surgeon Farnwright dashed up on his horse, to give the ladies instructions and to leave some medicine for the patient. Rosebel had now dried her tears, and went to work bravely, working with the tenderness of a sister over the sufferer.
"He shall not be disturbed," she said to Deck. "Aunty and I will take care of that."
Knowing he was needed in the field, Deck remained no longer than he deemed necessary. An urgent call from Crawfish Springs had reached the Riverlawns, and Colonel Lyon was now on the way to that locality, taking with him all but the twelfth company, which was escorting the prisoners to the rear. The major joined the command just as it was coming up in the rear of Colonel Long's brigade.
The fighting had been heavy, and the Confederate commander, Wheeler, had lost many men. They had come over the Chickamauga, hardly thinking that any Union cavalry remained in the neighborhood. For a time the battle-ground was near Glass's Mill, but gradually the Unionists were driven toward Crawfish Springs, while the Confederates massed themselves in the direction of the field hospital of the Army of the Cumberland.
Again Deck found himself in the fray, fighting as hard as ever. The Riverlawns had suffered heavily, but the organization still maintained its full number of companies. It supported Long in the second and third attacks and lost seven additional men, including a second lieutenant and two sergeants.
By this time word came to Thomas from Rosecrans to fall back to Rossville, on the road to Chattanooga. To further this movement, some cavalry was needed to protect the immense wagon trains, and the Riverlawns were called to perform part of this service. It was no easy work, and there was but little glory in it; yet it had to be done, and every cavalryman, fromColonel Lyon down, went at it heart and soul. On the way to Rossville, the wagon train suffered two raids, but the Confederates were beaten off with a heavy loss. In the meantime, an ammunition train arrived, and infantry and cavalry were alike supplied with whatever was wanted. The movement of the wagons was slow, but by midnight the Riverlawns' duty came to an end, and they went into camp on the high ground not far from the turnpike running from Chattanooga through Rossville to Ringgold.
"This is the worst situation I ever heard of, Deck. What in the world are we to do?"
"I fancy General Rosecrans is asking himself the same question, Tom," answered the major of the first battalion, gravely. "For myself, I must say I can't answer."
"We'll be eating horse-meat next," put in Life Knox, who stood by. "And the horses are dying right along, too."
"Poor Ceph! He hasn't had enough to eat for a week," said Deck, with a shake of his head. "But let all that go. What I am thinking of is the medicine my father and Artie require. If that can't be had, Surgeon Farnwright says he won't be responsible for consequences."
"I'd rather fight than starve like this," concluded Tom Belthorpe, and he walked away.
The Army of the Cumberland had retired toChattanooga several weeks before, and Bragg had followed Rosecrans closely, taking possession of Lookout Mountain, Missionary Ridge, and several other important points. The Confederate leader had failed to defeat his Northern foe, and now calculated to cut off all the Unionist's lines of communication and starve him out. He had already cut off travel on the river and on the railroad, and the only supplies to come into Chattanooga had to be brought through the mountains.
The state of affairs in Chattanooga during this siege had grown rapidly from bad to worse. The first thing to give out was fresh meats, for the Confederate cavalry leader, Wheeler, raided the country for miles around Chattanooga and gathered in all of the animals in sight. Next, the fodder ran short, and horses and mules dropped in the streets, and whole detachments of regiments were kept busy burying the beasts, to prevent the spread of disease. And now rations were scarce, and not a man of the whole Army of the Cumberland had had a square meal for a week or over.
And yet, to Major Deck Lyon, this was notthe worst feature of the long-to-be-remembered siege. On the day following the retreat to the city proper an ambulance had been procured and Captain Artie had been brought in, as carefully as possible, and taken to the house formerly occupied by the Greenes. Rosebel Greene and Miss Pomeroy had come in with the wounded captain, the former feeling it her duty to nurse the young man, because of what Deck had done for her, and the aunt saying she would not remain at the farmhouse alone, and because she was curious to see if Rosebel would really find the money hidden in the cellar, as the dead brother had mentioned.
The money had been found intact, and then hidden again, for there was no telling what might happen in those troublesome times. Artie had stood the journey fairly well, and was put in the best room the house afforded.
During these days the Riverlawns had been kept busy in the vicinity of Camp Thomas, some twenty-eight miles out of the city. Here one day they had had a fierce brush with Forrest, and when it was over it was discovered that Colonel Lyon was missing.
The discovery had caused a shock to Deck, and without delay he had organized a searching party, to learn if his father was killed, wounded, or a prisoner of the enemy. The search had lasted until nearly midnight and the gallant colonel had been found, lying partly under his horse, the latter dead, and the colonel shot through the head and unconscious.
As Artie was at Rosebel Greene's house, it was but natural that Deck should take his father to the same place, since the regular hospitals in Chattanooga were crowded far beyond their capacity. The colonel was placed in a chamber adjoining that of his foster-son, and Rosebel and Miss Pomeroy became his nurses, Deck promising to pay them handsomely for whatever was done. Rosebel said she wanted no pay. "You were a friend to my brother," were her words; "that is sufficient."
For two days the colonel had lain unconscious, and Surgeon Farnwright and the doctor called into consultation with him had given Deck but small hope. "Poor Artie's case was bad enough, Major," said the surgeon. "Your father—" and he finished with a shake of his head.
"The trouble is," said the doctor, later on, "the colonel is suffering for some medicine we cannot obtain in Chattanooga. We have a good general supply here, but there are certain things which I know would do your father a great deal of good. And they would do your brother good, too."
The announcement that certain drugs which were so sorely needed were not procurable in Chattanooga made Major Lyon feel very bad. He got the doctor to write down a list of the missing articles for him, and started out on a personal hunt, visiting every druggist he could find, and offering large sums of money, even for small quantities.
"Can't be had," said one druggist. "You will have to wait until this siege comes to an end and we get in some new supplies."
"I can't wait. My father and my cousin may die in the meantime," answered Deck, and continued his search on foot. For several days he had not ridden Ceph, deeming the poor beast too weak from lack of food to bear such a burden.
General Rosecrans had been considering theadvisability of making a determined effort against the enemy, but in the midst of this he was relieved of his command. The Army of the Cumberland was placed in a new military division, to be known as that of the Mississippi, under General Grant, and General Thomas was ordered to fill General Rosecrans's place. General Grant at once ordered Thomas to "hold Chattanooga at any cost," and added that he would come on as soon as possible and see what could be done.
General Grant, the leader of all leaders, the man of iron will, arrived on October 23. The plans made by Rosecrans and slightly changed by Thomas were approved, and movements were made to put them into immediate execution.
In the meantime, General Sherman had been engaged in opening up the Memphis and Charleston railroad eastward, hoping by this means to effect a communication with Chattanooga through Huntsville. But Grant had ordered him to cross the Tennessee at Eastport, and this was done, and Sherman then united with the right wing of what was now Thomas's command. Hooker had before been ordered to move to Bridgeport, below Chattanooga, and march thence by thewagon road to Wauhatchie, while Palmer was ordered to a point on the river opposite Whitesides.
The plan now put into operation was one looking to the seizing of a spur of mountains overlooking Lookout Valley. If this was successfully accomplished, Hooker and Palmer would be materially aided in their movements, and the river would be opened for steamboats as far as Brown's Ferry.
It was six miles to Brown's Ferry, and on the night of the 26th of the month, eighteen hundred men under General Hazen floated down the stream in sixty pontoon boats, around the sharp bend, and past nearly three miles of Confederate pickets. The darkness aided their movements, and as silently as ghosts, they landed at two points, overcame the pickets, and marched to the spurs to be taken. While this was going on, another force, under General Smith, marched by the north bank of the river, and were ferried over before daylight. A large crowd of men were set to work, and by early morning a pontoon bridge nine hundred feet long was swung across the river, and all pointsseized were protected by artillery and intrenched troops.
The Union forces now commanded the highway from Lookout Valley to Chattanooga Valley, and began a vigorous attack on the Confederates located between Shell Mound and Lookout Mountain. At the same time Hooker advanced, and Bragg awoke to the realization of the fact that a genuine effort was being made to raise the siege. Half a dozen small but sharp conflicts followed, and then the Confederates fell back; and the way was opened to Brown's Ferry, Bridgeport, and Stevenson, both by the river and the excellent wagon roads on either bank.
Many a commander would have paused here, but not so Grant. Without delay the whole army was put on an active footing and supplied with necessary food, clothing, and ammunition. Forage was brought in in large quantities, and the horses and mules put in the best possible condition, and heavy artillery was rushed forward. In the meantime, the arrival of General Sherman with reënforcements was eagerly awaited.
The Riverlawns, as a body, had not been activein the taking of Brown's Ferry and the spurs of mountains beyond, but a detachment under Major Lyon had gone on with Turchin's brigade, to clear out and hold a gorge through which the Bridgeport road ran to the crossing. The work was hazardous in the extreme, and the first two companies of the first battalion and Life Knox's company with them received a severe fire lasting for upward of two hours.
At this engagement Deck took more than an ordinary interest in his work. As a true soldier, he wanted to see the siege raised. More than this, he wanted to obtain the drugs so much needed by his father and Artie. He went in with a vigor almost born of desperation, and falling against a body of Confederates which were little better than guerillas, his command drove them, seven hundred strong, a distance of two miles into the mountain fastnesses.
As mentioned, the way was now open to Bridgeport, Stevenson, and other points, and Deck obtained permission to visit half a dozen towns and villages in quest of the drugs desired.
He took Life Knox with him, and the pair were gone the best part of the forty-eight hours.Nothing that was wanted could be found at the places named; but at another spot, where there was a cross-roads, the major discovered a large general store, with a medicine department attached.
Entering the place, the two Union officers were confronted by a burly Confederate over six feet high, and weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds. He scowled at them, but did not dare to abuse them openly.
"Yes, I've got drugs, but I ain't sellin' 'em to-day," he said shortly. "You'll have to find another drug shop, I reckon."
Deck gazed at the man in silence for a moment. Then he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the fellow's head.
"Sit down in that chair, sir," he ordered, and the burly Confederate almost collapsed.
"Would you shoot an unarmed man?" he gasped.
"Not if he behaved himself."
"I haven't got to sell my drugs if I don't want to."
"In this case I think you have. Life, will you keep him covered?"
"Certainly, Deck."
"I want certain drugs and will have them if they are in your stock. I will pay for what I take. But there must be no disturbance," went on the major.
He spoke thus for the benefit of two clerks who were present and who seemed inclined to be ugly. They heard him and allowed him to move around the establishment unmolested. With his list in one hand and his pistol in the other, he looked over all the bottles and packages the store contained.
It was a wearisome search, but it was gratifying, for out of four articles wanted, Deck found three. He then interviewed the shopkeeper, who declared by all he held sacred that he had never had the fourth article and doubted if any of the local doctors used it.
"Well, I will have to take your word for it," replied Deck. "Now I want these. What are you going to ask me for them?"
The storekeeper hemmed and hawed and finally said five dollars in gold. As this was not so unreasonable, Deck paid over the amount, and a moment later he and Life left the store. Beforethey could be molested, they were off at full speed for Chattanooga. Here they took the drugs to the doctor who had been attending Colonel Lyon and Artie.
"It was a clever haul," said the physician, after listening to Deck's story. "The drugs will do much good, I think. I am sorry, however, you could not obtain that fourth article, since it is the most important of the lot. These will help your brother, but the poor colonel will still have a hard time of it."
"But he will live—and so will Artie?" pleaded the major.
"While there is life there is hope," answered the doctor, and that was the only consolation Deck could get. As a matter of fact, both the lives of the colonel and the youthful captain hung upon a thread.
General Sherman having come up, and Bragg having weakened his forces by letting Longstreet's command leave him, to do battle elsewhere, Grant lost no time in moving forward. Hooker, holding Lookout Valley, faced the enemy occupying the heights, while Thomas was stationed before Missionary Ridge. Shermanwas now commanded to take position on the right bank of the river above the city, with the idea that he could afterward cross and seize another portion of the ridge beyond, as yet unfortified. A portion of the cavalry, under Long, was assigned to aid him, and the Riverlawns went with this body, all of the other horsemen remaining in camp.
The advance of the cavalry was made in a violent thunderstorm, such as had not struck the command for many a day, and this delayed operations for twenty-four hours or more. When the pontoon bridge over the river was reached, it was found that the wind and the rush of the current had parted it, and no troops could cross until repairs were made. The Riverlawns went into temporary camp under the shelter of a long hill, but everybody was wet to the skin.
Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon was now in command, and he and Deck went off in the rain to take a survey of the situation. On the return, they stumbled across a camp of a dozen or more Confederate guerillas. Shots were exchanged and the guerillas withdrew. In doing this,several rode close to Deck, and the major was amazed to hear one of them mentioned by his companion as Totterly. He glanced at the fellow and saw that he was tall, with a marked stoop to his left shoulder, and that his nose did not point straight ahead. The description fitted perfectly to that given of the guerilla who had rifled the safe at Riverlawn and made off with five hundred dollars, some jewellery, and the paper intrusted to Noah Lyon, which was not to be opened until five years after Duncan Lyon's death. This man's name had been Totterly, and Deck instantly concluded that the man in front of him and the raider of Riverlawn were one and the same person.
"I want to catch that man!" he cried to Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon, and dashed off, firing several shots at the retreating form. Away they went through the brush and along an ill-defined trail, but Totterly, for it was really he, had a fair lead, and had recognized his pursuer, and now he did his best to get away. Coming to a curve in the road, he cut into some timber, and by this means threw Deck completely off the scent in the darkness of the storm.
The major returned to the encampment in a thoughtful frame of mind. One chance to recover the money, jewels, and precious paper had slipped from him. Would another such chance ever present itself? He earnestly hoped so, and resolved that, in the future, he would keep his eyes wide open for the guerilla.