The two lines of siege and battle stretched in wide semicircle for miles over the ragged3 wood tangled4 hills about the little Gate City of the South.
Sherman had fought his way from Chattanooga one hundred and fifty miles since May with consummate5 skill. His march had been practically a continuous series of battles, and yet his losses had been small compared to General Grant's. In killed, wounded and prisoners he had only lost thirty-two thousand men in four months. The Confederate losses had been greater—at least thirty-five thousand.
Hood6, the new Southern Commander, had given him battle a month before and suffered an overwhelming defeat, losing eight thousand men, Sherman but thirty-seven hundred. The Confederate forces had retired7 behind the impregnable fortifications of Atlanta and Sherman lay behind his trenches8 watching in grim silence.
The pickets9 at many places were so close together they could talk. John Vaughan attempted to slip through at night while they were chaffing one another.
He lay for an hour in the woods near the Southern picket10 line watching his chance. The men were talking continuously.
"Why the devil don't you all fight?" a grey man called.
"Uncle Billy says it's cheaper to flank you and make you Johnnies run to catch up with us."
"Yes—damn you, and we've got ye now where ye can't do no more flankin'. Ye got ter fight!"
"Trust Uncle Billy for that when the time comes——"
"Yes, and we've got Billy Sherman whar we want him now. We're goin' to blow up every bridge behind ye and ye'll never see home no more——"
"Uncle Billy's got duplicates of all your bridges fast as ye blow 'em up."
"All right, we're goin' ter blow up the tunnels through the mountains——"
"That's nothin'—we got duplicates to all the tunnels, too!"
John Vaughan began to creep toward the Federal lines and muskets11 blazed from both sides. He dropped flat on the ground and it took two hours to crawl to a place of safety.
He felt these lines next morning where they were wider apart and found them too dangerous to attempt. The pickets, at the point he approached, were in an ugly mood and a desultory13 fire was kept up all day. The men had bunched up two together and entrenched14 themselves, keeping a deadly watch for the men in blue. He stood for half an hour close enough to see every movement of two young pickets who evidently had some score to pay and were hunting for their foe15 with quiet, deadly purpose.
"There's a Yank behind that clump," said one.
"Na—nothin' but a huckleberry bush," the other replied.
"Yes there is, too. We'll decoy and pot him. I'll get ready now and you raise your cap on a ramrod above the hole. He'll lift his head to fire and I'll get him."
The speaker cautiously slipped his musket12 in place and drew a bead16 on the spot. His partner placed his hat on his ramrod and slowly lifted it a foot above their hiding place.
The hat had scarcely cleared the pile of dirt before the musket flashed.
"I got him! I told you he was there!"
John turned from the scene with a sense of sickening horror. He would die for his country, but he hoped he would not be called on to kill again.
He made a wide detour17 and attempted to cross the lines five miles further from the city and walked suddenly into a squad18 of grey soldiers in command of a lieutenant19.
The officer eyed him with suspicion.
"What's your business here, sir?" he asked sharply.
"Looking over the lines," John replied casually20.
"So I see. That's why I asked you. Show your pass."
"Why, I haven't one."
"I thought not. You're a damned spy and you'd just as well say your prayers. I'm going to hang you."
The men pressed near. Among them was a second lieutenant, a big, strapping22, quiet-looking fellow.
"You've made a mistake, gentlemen," John protested.
"I'm a newspaper man from Atlanta. The chief sent me out to look over the lines and report."
"It's a lie. We've forbidden every paper in town to dare such a thing——"
John smiled:
"That's just why my office sent me, I reckon."
"Well, he sent you once too often——"
He turned to his orderly:
"Get me a bridle23 rein24 off my horse."
In vain John protested. The Commander shook his head:
"It's no use talking. You've passed the deadline here to-day. This is a favorite spot for scouts25 to cross. I'm not going to take any chances; I'm going to hang you."
"Why don't you search me first?"
He was sure that his dangerous message was so skillfully sewed in the soles of his shoes they would not be discovered.
"I can search you afterwards," was the laconic26 reply.
He quickly tied the leather strap21 around his neck and threw the end of it over a limb. The touch of his hand and the rough way in which he had tied the leather stirred John Vaughan's rage to boiling point. All sense of danger was lost for the moment in blind anger. He turned suddenly and faced his executioner:
"This is a damned outrage27, sir! Even a spy is entitled to a trial by drumhead court-martial!"
"Yes, that's what I say," the big, quiet fellow broke in.
"I'm in command of this squad!" thundered the lieutenant.
"I know you are," was the cool answer, "that's why this outrage is going to be committed."
The executioner dropped the rein and faced his subordinate:
"You're going to question my authority?"
"I've already done it, haven't I?"
A quick blow followed. The quiet man, in response, knocked his commander down and the men sprang on them as they drew their revolvers.
John Vaughan, with a sudden leap, reached the dense28 woods and in five minutes was inside Sherman's lines.
The bridle rein was still around his neck and the blue picket helped him untie29 the ugly knot.
"I've had a close call," he panted, with a glance toward the woods.
"You look it, partner. You'll be wantin' to see General Sherman, I guess?"
"Yes—to headquarters quick—you can't get there too quick to suit me."
He had recovered his composure before reaching the farm house where General Sherman and his staff were quartered.
The day was one of terrific heat—the first of September. The President's description of the famous fighter and the tremendous responsibility which was now being placed on his shoulders had roused John's curiosity to the highest pitch.
The General was seated in an arm chair in the yard under a great oak. His coat was unbuttoned and he had tilted30 back against the tree in a comfortable position reading a newspaper. His black slouch hat was pulled far down over his face.
John saluted31:
"This is General Sherman?"
"Yes," was the quick, pleasant answer as the tall, gaunt form slowly rose.
John noted32 his striking and powerful personality—the large frame, restless hazel eyes, fine aquiline33 nose, bronzed features and cropped beard. His every movement was instinct with the power of perfect physical manhood, forty-four years old, the incarnation of health and wiry strength.
"I come from Washington, General," John continued, "and bear a special message from the President."
"From the President! Oh, come inside then."
The tall figure moved with quick, nervous energy. In ten minutes couriers were dashing from his headquarters in every direction.
At one o'clock that night the big movement of his withdrawal34 from the siege lines began. He had no intention of hurling35 his men against those deadly trenches. He believed that with a sure, swift start undiscovered by the Confederates he could by a single battle turn their lines at Jonesboro, destroy the railroad and force General Hood to evacuate36 Atlanta.
His sleeping men were carefully waked. Not a single note from bugle37 or drum sounded. The wheels of the artillery38 and wagons39 were wrapped with cloth and every sound muffled40.
Through pitch darkness in dead silence the men were swung into marching lines. The moving columns could be felt but not seen. Each soldier followed blindly the man before. Somewhere in the black night there must be a leader—God knew—they didn't. They walked by faith. The wet grounds, soaked by recent rains, made their exit easier. The sound of horses' hoofs41 and tramping thousands could scarcely be heard.
The ranks were strung out in long, ragged lines, each man going as he pleased. Something blocked the way ahead and the columns butted42 into one another and pinched the heels of the men in front.
In their anger the fellows smarting with pain forgot the orders for silence. A storm of low muttering and growling43 rumbled44 through the darkness.
"What 'ell here!"
"What's the matter with you——"
"Keep off my heels!"
"What 'ell are ye runnin' over me for?"
"Hold up your damned gun——"
"Keep it out of my eye, won't you?"
"Damn your eye!"
They start again and run into a bog45 of mud knee deep cut into mush by the artillery and wagons which have passed on.
The first men in line were in to their knees and stuck fast before they could stop the lines surging on in the dark. They collide with the bogged46 ones and fall over them. The ranks behind stumble in on top of the fallen before word can be passed to halt.
The night reeks47 with oaths. The patient heavens reverberate48 with them. The mud-soaked soldiers damned with equal unction all things visible and invisible on the earth, under it and above it. They cursed the United States of America and they damned the Confederate States with equal emphasis and wished them both at the bottom of the lowest depths of the deepest pit of perdition.
As one fellow blew the mud from his mouth and nose he bawled49:
"I wish Sherman and Hood were both in hell this minute!"
"Yes, and fightin' it out to suit themselves!" his comrade answered.
On through the black night the long blue lines crept under lowering skies toward their foe, the stern face of William Tecumseh Sherman grimly set on his desperate purpose.
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1
credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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7
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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entrenched
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| adj.确立的，不容易改的(风俗习惯) | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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18
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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23
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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25
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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26
laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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27
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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28
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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31
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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32
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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34
withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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35
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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36
evacuate
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| v.遣送；搬空；抽出；排泄；大(小)便 | |
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37
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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38
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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39
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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40
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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41
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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42
butted
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| 对接的 | |
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43
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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44
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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45
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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46
bogged
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| adj.陷于泥沼的v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的过去式和过去分词 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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47
reeks
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| n.恶臭( reek的名词复数 )v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的第三人称单数 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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48
reverberate
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| v.使回响，使反响 | |
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49
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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