Before night the union army had three bridges across the Rappahannock, and before morning it had six. The regiment3 that had crossed held the right bank of the river, that is, the side of the South, and the boats moved freely back and forth4 in the stream.
Yet the main army itself did not yet begin the crossing. Harry5 slept a few hours before and after midnight, lying in the lee of a little ridge2 and wrapped in a pair of heavy blankets, but as he wakened from time to time he heard little from the river. There were no sounds to indicate that great streams of armed men with their cannon6 were pouring over the bridges. After the tremendous cannonade of the afternoon the night seemed very quiet and peaceful.
Fires were burning here and there, but they were not many. The Confederate generals did not care to furnish beacons7 for the enemy. When Harry stood up he could catch glimpses of the river, the color of steel again, but the farther bank, where the great army of the foe8 yet lay, was buried in darkness. He wondered why Burnside was not using every hour of the night for crossing, but he remembered how the same general had delayed so long at Antietam that Lee and Jackson were able to save themselves.
He became conscious that it was growing much colder again. The zero weather of a few days since was returning. Every light puff10 of wind was like the stab of an icicle. He was glad that he had a pair of blankets and that they were heavy ones, too. But he did not ask anything more. It was remarkable11 how fast the youth of both North and South became inured12 to every form of privation. They lived almost like the primitive13 man, and many thrived on it.
When he last awoke, about four o'clock in the morning, he did not lie down to sleep again; he walked to the edge of the slope and stared once more toward the river and the union camp. He found Dalton already there, closely examining the river and the shores with his glasses.
"What do you see, George?" Harry asked.
"Not much; they've got all the bridges now they need, but they're not using them. Why, Harry, the battle's won already. Lee and Jackson don't merely fight. Plenty of generals are good fighters, but our leaders measure and weigh the generals who are coming against them, look right inside of them, and read their minds better than those generals can read them themselves."
"I believe you're right, George. And since Burnside is not crossing to-night, he can't attack in the morning."
"Of course not. Lee and Jackson knew all the time that he'd waste a day. They knew it by the way he delayed at Antietam, and they've been reading his mind all the time he's been sitting here on the banks of the Rappahannock. They knew just where he'd attack, just when, too, and they'll have everything ready at the right point and at the right time."
"Of course they will."
They were but boys, and the great tactics and brilliant victories of Lee and Jackson had overwhelmed the imaginations of both. In their minds all things seemed possible to their leaders, and they had not the least fear about the coming battle.
They walked back toward their general's tent and saw him sitting on a log outside. The night was not so dark as the one before. A fair moon and clusters of modest stars furnished some light. The general was gazing toward Stafford Heights, tapping his bootleg at times with a little switch. But he turned his gaze upon the two boys as they came forward and saluted14 respectfully.
"Nothing, sir, but the river and the dark shore beyond," replied Dalton.
"But the enemy will cross to-morrow, and they say they will annihilate16 us."
"I think, sir, that they will recross the Rappahannock as fast as they will cross it."
"The right spirit," said Jackson quietly. "I see it throughout the army, and so long as it prevails we cannot lose."
Then he turned his glasses again toward the river and paid them no further attention. Officers of greater age and much higher rank came near, but he ignored them also. His whole soul seemed to be absorbed in the searching examination that he was making of the river and the opposite shore. Harry and Dalton watched him a little while and then went back to the shelter of the ridge, where, sitting with their backs against the earth, they, too, took up the task of watching.
The earth was frozen hard now, but toward morning they saw the fog rising again.
"It will cover the river, the far shore, and what's left of the town," said Dalton, "but what do we care? They'll be protected by it as they advance on the bridges, but they wouldn't dare move through it to attack us here on the heights."
"Here's the dawn again," said Harry. "I can see the ghost of the sun over there trying to break through, but as there's no wind now the fog's going to hang heavy and long."
Breakfast was served once more to the waiting army on the heights, and then the youths in gray saw that the union army, having let the night pass, was beginning to cross the river. When the dawn finally came many regiments18 were already over and the wheels of the heavy cannon were thundering on the bridges. But the Confederate army lay quiet on the heights, although before morning it had drawn19 itself in somewhat, shortening the lines and making itself more compact.
"Look how they pour over the bridges!" said Harry, who stood glass to eye. "They come in thousands and thousands, regiments, brigades and whole divisions. Why, George, it looks as if the whole North were swarming20 down upon us!"
"They're a hundred and twenty thousand strong. We know that positively21, and they're as brave as anybody. But we're eighty thousand strong, just sitting here on the heights and waiting. Harry, they'll cross that river again soon, and when they go back they'll be far less than a hundred and twenty thousand!"
He spoke with no sign of exultation22. Instead it was the boding23 tone of an old prophet, rather than the sanguine24 voice of youth.
The fog deepened for a little while, and then some of the marching columns were hidden. Out of the mists and gloom came the quick music of many bands, playing the Northern brigades on to death. Then the fog lifted again, and along the heights ran the blaze of the Southern cannon as they sent shot and shell into the black masses of the union troops crowding by Fredericksburg.
But as the echoes of the shots died away, Harry heard again the bands playing, and from the great Northern army below came mighty25 rolling cheers.
"The battle is here now, Harry," said Dalton, "and this is the biggest army we've ever faced."
The union brigades, black in the somber26 winter dawn, seemed endless to Harry. From the point where he stood the advancing columns as they crossed the river looked almost solid. He knew that men must be falling, dead or wounded, beneath the fire of the Southern guns, but the living closed up so fast that he could not see any break in the lines.
"You can't see any sign of hesitation27 there," said Dalton. "The Northern generals may doubt and linger, but the men don't when once they get the word. What a tremendous and thrilling sight! It may be wicked in me, Harry, but since there is a war and battles are being fought, I'm glad I'm here to see it."
"So am I," said Harry. "It's something to feel that you're at the heart of the biggest things going on in the world. Now we've lost 'em!"
His sudden exclamation28 was due to a shift of the wind, bringing back the fog again and covering the river, the town and the advancing union army. The Confederate cannon then ceased firing, but Harry heard distinctly the sounds made by scores of thousands of men marching, that measured tread of countless29 feet, the beat of hoofs30, the rumbling31 of cannon wheels over roads now frozen hard, and the music of many bands still playing. The thrill was all the keener when the great army became invisible in the fog, although the mighty hum and murmur32 of varied33 sounds proved that it was still marching there.
Jackson was on the right of Lee's line. He would be, as usual, in the thick of it. His fighting line ran through deep woods, and he was protected, moreover, by the slope up which the union troops would have to come, if they got near enough. Fourteen guns, guarded by two regiments, were on Prospect34 Hill at his extreme right, and on his left the ravine called Deep Run divided him from the command of Longstreet, which spread away toward Marye's Hill.
Jackson's own line was a mile and a half long and he had thirty thousand men, while Longstreet and the others had fifty thousand more. Lee himself, directing the whole, rode along the lines on his white horse, and whenever the men saw him cheers rolled up and down. But Lee had little to say. All that needed to be said had been said already.
Harry saw the great commander riding along that morning as calmly as if he were going to church. Lee, grave, imperturbable35, was the last man to show emotion, but Harry thought once that he caught a gleam from the blue eye as he spoke a word or two with Jackson and went on. As he passed near them, Harry, Dalton and all the other young officers took off their hats, saluted and stood in silence. General Lee raised his own hat in return, and rode back toward the division of Longstreet.
Harry glanced toward General Jackson, who was also mounted. But he did not move and the reins36 lay loose on the animal's neck. Once the horse dropped his head and nuzzled under some leaves for a few blades of sheltered grass that had escaped the winter. But the general took no notice. He kept his glasses to his eyes and watched every movement of the enemy, when the fog lifted enough for him to see. Presently he beckoned37 to Harry.
"Ride over to General Stuart," he said, "and see if he has made any change in his lines. It is important that our formation be preserved intact and that no gaps be left."
Then General Jackson himself rode to another elevation38 for a different view, and the soldiers, from whom he had been hidden before by the fog, gazed at him in amazement39. The gorgeous uniform that Stuart had sent him, worn only once before, and which they had thought discarded forever, had been put on again. The old slouch hat was gone, and another, magnificent with gold braid, looped and tasseled40, was in its place. Instead of the faithful pony41, Little Sorrel, he rode a big charger.
Usually cheers ran along the line whenever he appeared upon the eve of battle, but for a little space there was silence as the men gazed at him, many of them not even knowing him. Jackson flushed and looked down apologetically at the rich cloth and gold braid he wore. His eyes seemed to say, "Boys, I've merely put these on in honor of the victory we're going to win. But I won't do it again."
Then the cheers burst forth, spontaneous and ringing, proving a devotion that few men have ever been able to command. Stern and unflinching as Jackson invariably was in inflicting42 punishment, his soldiers always regarded him as one of themselves, the best man among them, one fitted by nature to lead democratic equals. After the cheers were over they watched him as he looked through the glasses from his new position. But he stayed there only a minute or two, going back then to his old point of vantage.
Harry meanwhile had reached Stuart, who, mounted upon a magnificent horse and clad in a uniform that fairly glittered through the fog itself, was waiting restlessly. But he had not changed any part of his line. Everything remained exactly as Jackson had ordered. He now knew Harry well and always called him by his first name.
"Have you an order?" he exclaimed eagerly. "Does General Jackson want us to advance?"
"He has said nothing about an advance," replied Harry tactfully. "He merely wanted me to ride down the line and report to him on the spirit of the soldiers as far as I could judge. He knew that your men, General, would be hard to hold."
Stuart threw back his head, shook his long yellow hair and laughed in a pleased way.
"General Jackson was right about my men," he said. "It's hard to keep them from galloping44 into the battle, and my feelings are with them. Yet we'll have all the fighting we want. Look at the great masses of the union army!"
The fog had lifted again and the Northern columns were still advancing, marching boldly against the intrenched foe, although nearly every one of their generals save Burnside himself knew that it was a hopeless task. In all the mighty events of the war that Harry witnessed few were as impressive to him as this solemn and steady march of the union army, heads erect45 and bands playing, into the jaws46 of death.
He stayed only a few moments with Stuart, returning direct to Jackson. On his way he passed Sherburne, who, with his troop, was on Stuart's extreme left flank. Harry leaned over, shook hands with him, nothing more, and rode on. With the lifting of the fog the Southern guns were again sending shot and sell into the blue masses. Then, from the other side of the river, the great union batteries left on Stafford Heights began to hurl48 showers of steel toward the hostile ridges1 a little more than a mile and a half away. It was long range for those days, but the union gunners, always excellent, rained shot and shell upon the Southern position.
Harry, used now to such a fire, went calmly on until he rejoined Jackson, who accepted with a nod his report that Stuart had not changed his lines anywhere. The general signed to him and the rest of the staff as they rode toward the center of the Southern line. Harry did not know their errand, but he surmised49 that they were to meet General Lee for the final conference. The general said no word, but rode steadily50 on. union skirmishers, under cover of the fog and bushes, had crept far in advance of their columns, and, as the fog continued to thin away and the day to brighten, they saw Jackson and his staff.
Harry heard bullets whistling sinister51 little threats in his ear as they passed, and he heard other bullets pattering on the trees or the earth. They alarmed him more than the huge cannon thundering away from the other side of the river. But the fog, although thin, was still enough to make the aim of the skirmishers bad, and General Jackson and his staff went on their way unhurt.
They reached a little hill near the middle of the Southern bent52 bow. It had no name then, but it is called Lee's Hill now, because at nine o'clock that morning General Lee, mounted on his white horse, was upon its crest53 awaiting his generals, to give them his last instructions. Longstreet was already there, and, just as Jackson came, the fog thinned away entirely54 and the sun began to blaze with a heat almost like that of summer, rapidly thawing55 the hard earth.
The young officers on the different staffs reined56 back, while their chiefs drew together. Yet for a few moments no one said anything. Harry always believed that the veteran generals were moved as he was by the sight below. The great banks of white fog were rolling away down the river before the light wind and the brilliant sun.
Now Harry saw the Army of the Potomac in its full majesty57. On the wide plain that lay on the south bank of the Rappahannock nearly a hundred thousand men were still advancing in regular order, with scores and scores of cannon on their flanks or between the columns. The army which looked somber black in the misty58 dawn now looked blue in the brilliant sun. The stars and stripes, the most beautiful flag in the world, waved in hundreds over their heads. The bands were still playing, and the great batteries which they had left on Stafford Heights across the river continued that incessant59 roaring fire over their heads at the Southern army on its own heights. The smoke from the cannon, whitish in color, drifted away down the river with the fog, and the whole spectacle still remained in the brilliant sunlight.
Harry's respect for the union artillery60, already high, increased yet further. The field was now mostly open, where all could see, and the gunners not only saw their targets, but were able to take good aim. The storm of shot and shell from Stafford Heights was frightful61. It seemed to Harry—again his imagination was alive—that the very air was darkened by the rush of steel. Despite their earthworks and other shelter the Southern troops began to suffer from that dreadful sleet62, but the little conference on Lee's Hill went on.
"It won't be long before we see whether we shall frighten them," replied Jackson.
General Lee said a few words, and then Jackson and Longstreet returned to their respective divisions, Jackson, as Harry noted65, showing not the least excitement, although the resolute66 union general, Franklin, with nearly sixty thousand men and one hundred and twenty guns, was marching directly against his own position.
But Harry felt excitement, and much of it. In front of Jackson in a great line of battle, a mile and a half long, they were moving forward, still in perfect array. But there was something wanting in that huge army. It was the lack of a great animating67 spirit. There was no flaming flag, like the soul of Jackson, to wave in the front of a fiery68 rush that could not be stopped.
The blue mass hesitated and stopped. Out of it came three Pennsylvania brigades led by Meade, who was to be the Meade of Gettysburg, and less than five thousand strong they advanced against Jackson. Harry was amazed. Could it be possible that they did not know that Jackson with his full force was there?
The Pennsylvanians charged gallantly70. The young General Pelham, who had been sent forward with two pieces of artillery, opened on them fiercely, but the heavy batteries covering the advance of the Pennsylvanians drove Pelham out of action, although he held the whole force at bay for half an hour. In his retreat he lost one of his own guns, and then Franklin brought up more batteries to protect the further advance of Meade and the Pennsylvanians. The batteries across the river helped them also, never ceasing to send a rain of steel over their troops upon the Southern army.
But Jackson's men still lay close in the woods and behind their breastworks. Nearly all that rain of steel flew over their heads. A shower of twigs71 and boughs72 fell on them, but so long as they stayed close the great artillery fire created terror rather than damage. The men were panting with eagerness, but not one was allowed to pull trigger, nor was a cannon fired.
"Burnside must think there's but a small force here," said Dalton, "or he wouldn't send so few men against us. Harry, when I look down at those brigades of Yankees I think of the old Roman salute—it was that of the gladiators, wasn't it?—'Morituri salutamus.'"
"They're doomed," said Harry.
Jackson, like the others, had dismounted, and he walked forward with a single aide to observe more closely the union advance. A Northern sharpshooter suddenly rose out of high weeds, not far in front, and fired directly at them. The bullet whistled between Jackson and his aide. Jackson turned to the young man and said:
"Suppose you go to the rear. You might get shot."
The young man, of course, did not go, and Harry, who was not far behind them in an earthwork, watched them with painful anxiety. He had seen the sudden uprising of the Northern skirmisher in the weeds and the flame from the muzzle73. The man might not have known that it was Jackson, but he must have surmised from the gorgeous uniform that it was a general of importance.
Harry, with the trained eye of a country boy, saw a rippling74 movement running among the weeds. The sharpshooter would reload and fire upon his general from another point. The second bullet might not miss.
But the second shot did not come. The marksman, doubtless thinking that another shot was too dangerous a hazard, had retreated into the plain. General Jackson walked on calmly, inspecting the whole Northern advance, and then returning took up his station on Prospect Hill, where he waited with the singular calmness that was always his, for the fit time to open fire.
The leader of the Army of the Potomac was watching from the other side of the Rappahannock with a terrible eagerness. The man who had not wished the command of the splendid union army, who had deemed himself unequal to the task, was now proving the correctness of his own intuitions. He had taken up his headquarters in a fine colonial residence on one of the highest points of the bank. He was surrounded there by numerous artillery, and the officers of his staff crowded the porches, many of them already sad of heart, although they would not let their faces show it.
But Burnside, now that his men had forced the river in such daring fashion, began to glow with hope. Such magnificent troops as he had, having crossed the deep, tidal Rappahannock in the face of an able and daring foe, were bound to win. He swept every point of the field with his glasses, and from his elevated position he and his officers could see what the troops in the plain below could not see, the long lines of the Confederates waiting in the trenches75 or in the woods, their cannon posted at frequent intervals76.
But Burnside hoped. Who would not have hoped with such troops as his? Never did an army, and with full knowledge of it, too, advance more boldly to a superhuman task. He saw the gallant69 advance of the Pennsylvanians and he saw them drive off Pelham. Hope swelled77 into confidence. With an anxiety beyond describing he watched the further advance of Meade and his Pennsylvanians.
Stonewall Jackson also was watching from his convenient hill, and his small staff, mostly of very young men, clustered close behind him. Jackson no longer used his glasses, as Burnside was doing. Meade and his Pennsylvanians were coming close to him now. The great union batteries on Stafford Heights must soon cease firing or their shells and shot would be crashing into the blue ranks.
"It cannot be much longer," said Harry.
"No, not much longer," said Dalton. "We'll unmask mighty soon. How far away would you say they are now, Harry?"
"About a thousand yards."
"Over a half mile. Then I'll say that when they come within a half mile Old Jack9 will give the word to the artillery to loosen up."
Harry and George, in their intense absorption, had forgotten about the other parts of the line. In their minds, for the present at least, Jackson was fighting the battle alone. Longstreet was forgotten, and even Lee, for a space, remained unremembered. They were staring at the brigades which were coming on so gallantly, when the jaws of death were already opened so wide to receive them.
"They're at the half mile," said Dalton, who had a wonderful eye for distance, "and still Old Jack does not give the word."
"The closer the better," said Harry. Glancing up and down the lines he saw the men bending over their guns and the riflemen in line after line rising slowly to their feet and looking to their arms. In spite of himself, in spite of all the hard usage of war through which he had been, Harry shuddered78. He did not hate any of those men out there who were coming toward them so boldly; no, there was not in all those brigades, nor in all the union army, nor in all the North a single person whom he wished to hurt. Yet he knew that he would soon fight against them with all the weapons and all the power he could gather.
"Eight hundred yards," said Dalton.
"Fire!" was the word that ran like an electric blaze along the whole Southern front; and Jackson's fifty cannon, suddenly pushing forward from the forest, poured a storm of steel upon the devoted79 Pennsylvanians. Harry felt the earth rocking beneath him, and his ears were stunned80 by the roaring and crashing of the cannon all about him.
The union officers on the porches of the colonial mansion81 across the river saw that terrible blaze leap from the Confederate line, and their hearts sank within them like lead. Alarmed as they had been before, they were in consternation82 now. Some had said that Jackson was not there, that it was merely a detachment guarding the woods, but now they knew their mistake.
Harry and Dalton stayed close to their general. Shells and shot from the batteries below on the plain were crashing along the trees, but, like those from the great guns on Stafford Heights, they passed mostly over their heads. The two youths at that moment had little to do but watch the battle. The Southern riflemen crept forward in the woods, and now their bullets in sheets were crashing into the hostile ranks. The union division commander hurried up reinforcements, and the Pennsylvanians, despite their frightful losses and shattered ranks, still held fast. But the Southern batteries never ceased for a moment to pour upon them a storm of death. With red battle before him and the fever in his blood running high, Harry now forgot all about wounds and death. He had eye and thought only for the tremendous panorama83 passing before him, where everything was clear and visible, as if it were an act in some old Roman circus, magnified manifold.
Then came a message from Jackson to hurry to the left with an order for a brigadier who lay next to Longstreet. As he ran through the trees, he heard now the roar of the battle in the center, where the stalwart Longstreet was holding Marye's Hill and the adjacent heights. A mighty union division was attacking there, and out of the south from the embers of Fredericksburg came another great division in column after column.
Harry heard the fire of Jackson slackening behind him, and he knew it was because Meade had been stopped or was retreating, and he stayed a little with the brigadier to see how Longstreet received the enemy. The hill and all the ridges about it seemed to be in one red blaze, and every few minutes the triumphant84 rebel yell, something like the Indian war-whoop, but poured from thirty thousand throats, swelled above the roar of the cannon and the crash of the rifles and made Harry's pulses beat so hard that he felt absolute physical pain.
He hurried to Jackson, where the battle, which had died for a little space, was swelling85 again. As the Pennsylvanians were compelled to draw back, leaving the ground covered with their dead, the union batteries on Stafford Heights reopened, firing again over the heads of the men in blue. The Southern batteries, weaker and less numerous, replied with all their energy. A far-flung shot from their greatest gun, at the extreme southern end of the line, killed the brave union general, Bayard, as he was sitting under a tree watching his troops.
Gregg, one of the best of the Southern generals, was mortally wounded. A great body of the Pennsylvanians, charging again, reached the shelter of the woods and burst through the Southern line. At another point, Hancock, always cool and brilliant on the field of battle, rallied shattered brigades and led them forward in person to new attacks. Hooker, who had shown such courage at Antietam, equally brave on this occasion, rushed forward with his men at another point. Franklin, Sumner, Doubleday and many other of the best union generals showed themselves reckless of death, cheering on their men, galloping up and down the lines when they were mounted, and waving their swords aloft after their horses were killed, but always leading.
The Pennsylvanians who had cut into the Southern line were attacked in flank, but they held on to their positions. Jackson did not yet know of Meade's success. He still stood on Prospect Hill with his staff, which Harry had rejoined. The forest and vast clouds of smoke hid from his view the battle, save in his front. Harry saw a messenger coming at a gallop43 toward the summit of the hill, and he knew by his pale face and bloodshot eyes that he brought bad news.
Jackson turned toward the messenger, expectant but calm.
"What is it?" he asked.
"The enemy have broken through General Archer's division, and he directed me to say to you that unless help is sent, both his position and that of General Gregg will be lost."
Jackson showed no excitement. His calm and composure in the face of disaster always inspired his men with fresh courage.
"Ride back to General Archer," he said, "and tell him that the division of Early and the Stonewall Brigade are coming at once."
He turned his horse as if he would go with the relief, but in a moment he checked himself, put his field glasses back to his eyes, and continued to watch heavy masses of the enemy who were coming up in another quarter.
Harry did not see what happened when Early and Taliaferro, who now led the Stonewall Brigade, fell upon the Pennsylvanians, but the Invincibles were in the charge and St. Clair told him about it afterward86. The union men had penetrated87 so far that they were entangled88 in the forest and thickets89, and nobody had come up to support them. They were much scattered90, and as their officers were seeking to gather them together the men in gray fell upon them in overpowering force and drove them back in broken fragments. Wild with triumph, the Southern riflemen rushed after them and also hurled91 back other riflemen that were coming up to their support. But on the plain they encountered the matchless Northern artillery. A battery of sixteen heavy guns met their advancing line with a storm of canister, before which they were compelled to retreat, leaving many dead and wounded behind.
Yet the entire union attack on Jackson had been driven back, the Northern troops suffering terrible losses. The watchers on the Phillips porch on the other side of the river saw the repulse92, and again their hearts sank like lead.
The watchers turned their field glasses anew to the Southern center and left, where the battle raged with undiminished ferocity. Marye's Hill was a formidable position and along its slope ran a heavy stone wall. Behind it the Southern sharpshooters were packed in thousands, and every battery was well placed.
Hancock, following Burnside's orders, led the attack upon the ensanguined slopes. Forty thousand men, almost the flower of the union army, charged again and again up those awful slopes, and again and again they were hurled back. The top of the hill was a leaping mass of flame and the stone wall was always crested93 with living fire. No troops ever showed greater courage as they returned after every repulse to the hopeless charge.
At last they could go forward no longer. They had not made the slightest impression upon Marye's Hill and the slopes were strewn with many thousands of their dead and wounded, including officers of all ranks, from generals down. The union army was now divided into two portions, each in the face of an insuperable task.
But Burnside, burning with chagrin94, was unwilling95 to draw off his army. The reserve troops, left on the other side of the river, were sent across, and Fighting Joe Hooker was ordered to lead them to a new attack. Hooker, talking with Hancock, saw that it merely meant another slaughter96, and sent such word to his commander-in-chief. But Burnside would not be moved from his purpose. The attack must be made, and Hooker—whose courage no one could question—still trying to prevent it, crossed the river himself, went to Burnside and remonstrated97.
Men who were present have told vivid stories of that scene at the Phillips House. Hooker, his face covered with dust and sweat, galloping up, leaping from his horse, and rushing to Burnside; the commander-in-chief striding up and down, looking toward Marye's Hill, enveloped98 in smoke, and repeating to himself, as if he were scarcely conscious of what he was saying: "That height must be taken! That height must be taken! We must take it!"
He turned to Hooker with the same words, "That height must be taken to-day," repeating it over and over again, changing the words perhaps, but not the sense. The gallant but unfortunate man had not wanted to be commander-in-chief, foreseeing his own inadequacy99, and now in his agony at seeing so many of his men fall in vain he was scarcely responsible.
Hooker, his heart full of despair, but resolved to obey, galloped100 back and prepared for the last desperate charge up Marye's Hill. The advancing mists in the east were showing that the short winter day would soon draw to a close. He planted his batteries and opened a heavy fire, intending to batter47 down the stone wall. But the wall, supported by an earthwork, did not give, and Longstreet's riflemen lay behind it waiting.
At a signal the union cannon ceased firing and the bugles101 blew the charge. The union brigades swarmed102 forward and then rushed up the slopes. The volume of fire poured upon them was unequalled until Pickett led the matchless charge at Gettysburg. Pickett himself was here among the defenders103, having just been sent to help the men on Marye's Hill.
Up went the men through the winter twilight104, lighted now by the blaze of so many cannon and rifles pouring down upon them a storm of lead and steel, through which no human beings could pass. They came near to the stone wall, but as their lines were now melting away like snow before the sun, they were compelled to yield and retreat again down the slopes, which were strewed105 already with the bodies of so many of those who had gone up in the other attacks.
Every charge had broken in vain on the fronts of Jackson and Longstreet, and the union losses were appalling106. Harry knew that the battle was won and that it had been won more easily than any of the other great battles that he had seen. He wondered what Jackson would do. Would he follow up the grand division of Franklin that he had defeated and which still lay in front of them?
But he ceased to ask the question, because when the last charge, shattered to pieces, rolled back down Marye's Hill, the magnificent Northern artillery seemed to Harry to go mad. The thirty guns of the heaviest weight that had been left on Stafford Heights, and which had ceased firing only when the Northern men charged, now reopened in a perfect excess of fury. Harry believed that they must be throwing tons of metal every minute.
Nor was Franklin slack. Hovering107 with his great division in the plain below and knowing that he was beaten, he nevertheless turned one hundred and sixteen cannon that he carried with him upon Jackson's front and swept all the woods and ridges everywhere. The union army was beaten because it had undertaken the impossible, but despite its immense losses it was still superior in numbers to Lee's force, and above all it had that matchless artillery which in defeat could protect the union army, and which in victory helped it to win.
Now all these mighty cannon were turned loose in one huge effort. Along the vast battle front and from both sides of the river they roared and crashed defiance108. And the Army of the Potomac, which had wasted so much valor109, crept back under the shelter of that thundering line of fire. It had much to regret, but nothing of which to be ashamed. Sent against positions impregnable when held by such men as Lee, Jackson and Longstreet, it had never ceased to attack so long as the faintest chance remained. Its commander had been unequal to the task, but the long roll of generals under him had shown unsurpassed courage and daring.
Harry thought once that General Jackson was going to attack in turn, but after a long look at the roaring plain he shrugged110 his shoulders and gave no orders. The beaten Army of the Potomac preserved its order, it had lost no guns, the brigadiers and the major-generals were full of courage, and it was too formidable to be attacked. Three hundred cannon of the first class on either side of the river were roaring and crashing, and the moment the Southern troops emerged for the charge all would be sure to pour upon them a fire that no troops could withstand.
General Lee presently appeared riding along the line. The cheers which always rose where he came rolled far, and he was compelled to lift his hat more than once. He conferred with Jackson, and the two, going toward the left, met Longstreet, with whom they also talked. Then they separated and Jackson returned to his own position. Harry, who had followed his general at the proper distance, never heard what they said, but he believed that they had discussed the possibility of a night attack and then had decided111 in the negative.
When Jackson returned to his own force the twilight was thickening into night, and as darkness sank down over the field the appalling fire of the union artillery ceased. Thirteen thousand dead or wounded union soldiers had fallen, and the Southern loss was much less than half.
All of Harry's comrades and friends had escaped this battle uninjured, yet many of them believed that another battle would be fought on the morrow. Harry, however, was not one of these. He remembered some words that had been spoken by Jackson in his presence:
"We can defeat the enemy here at Fredericksburg, but we cannot destroy him, because he will escape over his bridges, while we are unable to follow."
Nevertheless the young men and boys were exultant112. They did not look so far ahead as Jackson, and they had never before won so great a victory with so little loss. Harry, sent on a message beyond Deep Run, found the Invincibles cooking their suppers on a spot that they had held throughout the day. They had several cheerful fires burning and they saluted Harry gladly.
"A great victory, Harry," said Happy Tom.
"Yes, a great victory," interrupted Colonel Leonidas Talbot; "but, my friends, what else could you have expected? They walked straight into our trap. But I have learned this day to have a deep respect for the valor of the Yankees. The way they charged up Marye's Hill in the face of certain death was worthy113 of the finest troops that South Carolina herself ever produced."
"That is saying a great deal, Leonidas," said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire, "but it is true."
Harry talked a little with the two colonels, and also with Langdon and St. Clair. Then he returned to his own headquarters. Both armies, making ready for battle to-morrow, if it should come, slept on their arms, while the dead and the wounded yet lay thick in the forest and on the slopes and plain.
But Harry was not among those who slept, at least not until after midnight. He and Dalton sat at the door of Jackson's tent, awaiting possible orders. Jackson knew that Burnside, with a hundred thousand men yet in line and no artillery lost, was planning another attack on the morrow, despite his frightful losses of the day.
The news of it had been sent to him by Lee, and Lee in turn had learned it from a captured orderly bearing Burnside's dispatches. But neither Harry nor Dalton knew anything of Burnside's plans. They were merely waiting for any errand upon which Jackson should choose to send them. Several other staff officers were present, and as Jackson wrote his orders, he gave them in turn to be taken to those for whom they were intended.
Harry, after three such trips of his own, sat down again near the door of the tent and watched his great leader. Jackson sat at a little table, on a cane-bottomed chair, and he wrote by the light of a single candle. His clothing was all awry114 and he had tossed away the gold-braided cap. His face was worn and drawn, but his eyes showed no signs of weariness. The body might have been weak, but the spirit of Jackson was never stronger.
Harry knew that Jackson after victory wasted no time exulting115, but was always preparing for the next battle. The soldiers, both in his own division and elsewhere, were awakened116 by turns, and willing thousands strengthened the Southern position. More and deeper trenches were constructed. New abatis were built and the stone wall was strengthened yet further. Formidable as the Southern line had been to-day, Burnside would find it more so on the morrow.
After midnight, Jackson, still in his gorgeous uniform and with boots and spurs on, too, lay down on his bed and slept about three hours. Then he aroused himself, lighted his candle and wrote an hour longer. Then he went to the bedside of the dying Gregg and sat a while with him, the staff remaining at a respectful distance.
When they rode back—they were mounted again—they passed along the battle front, and the sadness which was so apparent on Jackson's face affected117 them. It was far toward morning now and the enemy was lighting118 his fires on the plain below. The dead lay where they had fallen, and no help had yet been given to those wounded too seriously to move. It had been a tremendous holocaust119, and with no result. Harry knew now that the North would never cease to fight disunion. The South could win separation only at the price of practical annihilation for both.
The night was very raw and chill, and not less so now that morning was approaching. The mists and fogs, which as usual rose from the Rappahannock, made Harry shiver at their touch. In the hollows of the ridges, which the wintry sun seldom reached, great masses of ice were packed, and the plain below, cut up the day before by wheels and hoofs and footsteps, was now like a frozen field of ploughed land.
The staff heard enough through the fogs and mists to know that the Army of the Potomac was awake and stirring. The Southern army also arose, lighted its fires, cooked and ate its food and waited for the enemy. Before it was yet light Harry, on a message to Stuart, rode to the top of Prospect Hill with him, and, as they sat there on their horses, the sun cleared away the fog and mist, and they saw the Army of the Potomac drawn up in line of battle, defiant120 and challenging, ready to attack or to be attacked.
Harry felt a thrill of admiration121 that he did not wish to check. After all, the Yankees were their own people, bone of their bone, and their courage must be admired. The Army of the Potomac, too, was learning to fight without able chiefs. The young colonels and majors and captains could lead them, and there they were, after their most terrible defeat, grim and ready.
"The lion's wounded, but he isn't dead, by any means," said Harry to Stuart.
"Not by a great deal," said Stuart.
There was much hot firing by skirmishers that day and artillery duels122 at long range, but the Northern army, which had fortified123 on the plain, would not come out of its intrenchments, and the Southern soldiers also stuck to theirs. Burnside, who had crossed the river to join his men, had been persuaded at last that a second attack was bound to end like the first.
The next day Burnside sent in a flag of truce124, and they buried the dead. The following night Harry, wrapped to the eyes in his great cloak, stood upon Prospect Hill and watched one of the fiercest storms that he had ever seen rage up and down the valley of the Rappahannock. Many of the Southern pickets125 were driven to shelter. While the whole Southern army sought protection from the deluge126, the Army of the Potomac, still a hundred thousand strong, and carrying all its guns, marched in perfect order over the six bridges it had built, breaking the bridges down behind it, and camping in safety on the other side. The river was rising fast under the tremendous rain, and the Southern army could find no fords, even though it marched far up the stream.
Fredericksburg was won, but the two armies, resolute and defiant, gathered themselves anew for other battles as great or greater.
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收听单词发音
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1
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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beacons
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| 灯塔( beacon的名词复数 )； 烽火； 指路明灯； 无线电台或发射台 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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10
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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11
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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12
inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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13
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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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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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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16
annihilate
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| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
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17
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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21
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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23
boding
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| adj.凶兆的，先兆的n.凶兆，前兆，预感v.预示，预告，预言( bode的现在分词 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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29
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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30
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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31
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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32
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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33
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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36
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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37
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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39
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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40
tasseled
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| v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的过去式和过去分词 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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41
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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42
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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43
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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44
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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45
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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46
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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47
batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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48
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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49
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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50
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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51
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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52
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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53
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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54
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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55
thawing
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| n.熔化，融化v.（气候）解冻( thaw的现在分词 )；（态度、感情等）缓和；（冰、雪及冷冻食物）溶化；软化 | |
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56
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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57
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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58
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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60
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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61
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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62
sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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63
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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64
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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67
animating
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| v.使有生气( animate的现在分词 )；驱动；使栩栩如生地动作；赋予…以生命 | |
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68
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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69
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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71
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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72
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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73
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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74
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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75
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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76
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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77
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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78
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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79
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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80
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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81
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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82
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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83
panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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84
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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85
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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86
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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87
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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88
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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90
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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91
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
inadequacy
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| n.无法胜任，信心不足 | |
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100
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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101
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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102
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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103
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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104
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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105
strewed
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| v.撒在…上( strew的过去式和过去分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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106
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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107
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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108
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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109
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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110
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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111
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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112
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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113
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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114
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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115
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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116
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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117
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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118
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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119
holocaust
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| n.大破坏；大屠杀 | |
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120
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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121
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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122
duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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123
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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124
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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125
pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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126
deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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