They turned their course toward the Mississippi and that afternoon they met a union scout2 who told them that Grant, now in the very heart of the far South, was gathering3 his forces for a daring attack upon Grand Gulf4, a Confederate fortress5 on the Mississippi. In the North and at Washington his venture was regarded with alarm. There was a telegram to him to stop, but it was sent too late. He had disappeared in the Southern wilderness6.
But Dick understood. He had both knowledge and intuition. Colonel Winchester on his long and daring scout had learned that the Confederate forces in the South were scattered8 and their leaders in doubt. Grant, taking a daring offensive and hiding his movements, had put them on the defensive9, and there were so many points to defend that they did not know which to choose. Joe Johnston, just recovered from his wound at Fair Oaks the year before, and a general of the first rank, was coming, but he was not yet here.
Meanwhile Pemberton held the chief command, but he seemed to lack energy and decision. There were forces under other generals scattered along the river, including eight thousand commanded by Bowen, who held Grand Gulf, but concert of action did not exist among them.
This knowledge was not Dick's alone. It extended to every man in the regiment, and when the colonel urged them to greater speed they responded gladly.
“If we don't ride faster,” he said, “we won't be up in time for the taking of Grand Gulf.”
No greater spur was needed and the Winchester regiment went forward as fast as horses could carry them.
“It seems so,” said Pennington. “This is a big country down here, and we can fight one Confederate army while another is mired11 up a hundred miles away.
“That's General Grant's plan. He doesn't look like any hero of romance, but he acts like one. He plunges12 into the middle of the enemy, and if he gets licked he's up and at 'em again right away.”
Night closed in, and they stopped at an abandoned plantation13—it seemed to Dick that the houses were abandoned everywhere—where they spent the night. The troopers would have willingly pushed on through the darkness, but the horses were so near exhaustion14 that another hour or two would have broken them down permanently15. Moreover, Colonel Winchester did not feel much apprehension16 of an attack now. Forrest had certainly turned in another direction, and they were too close to the union lines to be attacked by any other foe17.
The house on this plantation was not by any means so large and fine as Bellevue, but, like the other, it had broad piazzas18 all about it, and Dick, in view of his strenuous19 experience, was allowed to take his saddle as a pillow and his blankets and go to sleep soon after dark in a comfortable place against the wall.
Never was slumber20 quicker or sweeter. There was not an unhealthy tissue in his body, and most of his nerves had disappeared in a life amid battles, scoutings, and marchings. He slept heavily all through the night, inhaling21 new strength and vitality22 with every breath of the crisp, fresh air. There was no interruption this time, and early in the morning the regiment was up and away.
They descended23 now into lower grounds near the Mississippi. All around them was a vast and luxuriant vegetation, cut by sluggish24 streams and bayous. But the same desolation reigned25 everywhere. The people had fled before the advance of the armies. Late in the afternoon they saw pickets26 in blue, then the Mississippi, and a little later they rode into a union camp.
“Dick,” said Colonel Winchester, “I shall want you to go with the senior officers and myself to report to General Grant on the other side of the Mississippi. You rode on that mission to Grierson and he may want to ask you questions.”
Dick was glad to go with them. He was eager to see once more the man who had taken Henry and Donelson and who had hung on at Shiloh until Buell came. The general's tent was in a grove27 on a bit of high ground, and he was sitting before it on a little camp stool, smoking a short cigar, and gazing reflectively in the direction of Grand Gulf.
He greeted the three officers quietly but with warmth and then he listened to Colonel Winchester's detailed28 account of what he had seen and learned in his raid toward Jackson. It was a long narrative29, showing how the Southern forces were scattered, and, as he listened, Grant's face began to show satisfaction.
But he seldom interrupted.
“And you think they have no large force at Jackson?” he said.
“I'm quite sure of it,” replied Colonel Winchester.
Grant chewed his cigar a little while and then said:
“Grierson is doing well. It was an achievement for you and him to beat off Forrest. It will raise the prestige of our cavalry30, which needs it. I believe it was you, Lieutenant31 Mason, who brought Grierson.”
“It was chiefly, sir, a sergeant32 named Whitley. I rode with him and outranked him, but he is a veteran of the plains, and it was he who did the real work.”
The general's stern features were lightened by a smile.
“I'm glad you give the sergeant credit,” he said. “Not many officers would do it.”
He listened a while longer and then the three were permitted to withdraw to their regiment, which was posted back of Grand Gulf, and which had quickly become a part of an army flushed with victory and eager for further action.
Before sunset Dick, Warner, and Pennington looked at Grand Gulf, a little village standing33 on high cliffs overlooking the Mississippi, just below the point where the dark stream known as the Big Black River empties into the Father of Waters. Around the crown of the heights was a ring of batteries and lower down, enclosing the town, was another ring.
Far off on the Mississippi the three saw puffing34 black smoke marking the presence of a union fleet, which never for one instant in the whole course of the war relaxed its grip of steel upon the Confederacy. Dick's heart thrilled at the sight of the brave ships. He felt then, as most of us have felt since, that whatever happened the American navy would never fail.
“I hear the ships are going to bombard,” said Warner.
“I heard so, too,” said Pennington, “and I heard also that they will have to do it under the most difficult circumstances. The water in front of Grand Gulf is so deep that the ships can't anchor. It has a swift current, too, making at that point more than six knots an hour. There are powerful eddies35, too, and the batteries crowning the cliffs are so high that the cannon36 of the gunboats will have trouble in reaching them.”
“Still, Mr. Pessimist,” said Dick, “remember what the gunboats did at Fort Henry. You'll find the same kind of men here.”
“I wasn't trying to discourage you. I was merely telling the worst first. We're going to win. We nearly always win here in the West, but it seems to me the country is against us now. This doesn't look much like the plains, Dick, with its big, deep rivers, its high bluffs37 along the banks, and its miles and miles of swamp or wet lowlands. How wide would you say the Mississippi is here?”
“Somewhere between a mile and a mile and a half.”
“And they say it's two or three hundred feet deep. Look at the steamers, boys. How many are there?”
“I count seven pyramids of smoke,” said Warner, “four in one group and three in another. All the pyramids are becoming a little faint as the twilight38 is advancing. Dick, you call me a cold mathematical person, but this vast river flowing in its deep channel, the dark bluffs up there, and the vast forests would make me feel mighty39 lonely if you fellows were not here. It's a long way to Vermont.”
“Fifteen hundred or maybe two thousand miles,” said Dick, “but look how fast the dark is coming. I was wrong in saying it's coming. It just drops down. The smoke of the steamers has melted into the night, and you don't see them any more. The surface of the river has turned black as ink, the bluffs of Grand Gulf have gone, and we've turned back three or four hundred years.”
“What do you mean by going back three or four hundred years?” asked Warner, looking curiously40 at Dick.
“Why, don't you see them out there?”
“See them out there? See what?”
“Why, the queer little ships with the high sides and prows41! On my soul, George, they're the caravels of Spain! Look, they're stopping! Now they lower something in black over the side of the first caravel. I see a man in a black robe like a priest, holding a cross in his hand and standing at the ship's edge saying something. I think he's praying, boys. Now sailors cut the ropes that hold the dark object. It falls into the river and disappears. It's the burial of De Soto in the Father of Waters which he discovered!”
“Dick, you're dreaming,” exclaimed Pennington.
“Yes, I know, but once there was a Chinaman who dreamed that he was a lily. When he woke up he didn't know whether he was a Chinaman who had dreamed he was a lily or a lily now dreaming he was a Chinaman.”
“I like that story, Dick, but you've got too much imagination. The tale of the death and burial of De Soto has always been so vivid to you that you just stood there and re-created the scene for yourself.”
“Of course that's it,” said Pennington, “but why can't a fellow create things with his mind, when things that don't exist jump right up before his eyes? I've often seen the mirage42, generally about dark, far out on the western plains. I've seen a beautiful lake and green gardens where there was nothing but the brown swells43 rolling on.”
“I concede all you say,” said Dick readily. “I have flashes sometimes, and so does Harry44 Kenton and others I know.”
“Flashes! What do you mean?” asked Warner.
“Why, a sort of lightning stroke out of the past. Something that lasts only a second, but in which you have a share. Boys, one day I saw myself a Carthaginian soldier following Hannibal over the Alps.”
“Maybe,” said Pennington, “we have lived other lives on this earth, and sometimes a faint glimpse of them comes to us. It's just a guess.”
“That's so,” said Warner, “and we'd better be getting back to the regiment. Grand Gulf defended by Bowen and eight thousand good men is really enough for us. I think we're going to see some lively fighting here.”
The heavy boom of a cannon from the upper circle of batteries swept over the vast sheet of water flowing so swiftly toward the Gulf. The sound came back in dying echoes, and then there was complete silence among besieged45 and besiegers.
The Winchesters had found a good solid place, a little hill among the marshes47, and they were encamped there with their horses. Dick had no messages to carry, but he remained awake, while his comrades slept soundly. He had slept so much the night before that he had no desire for sleep now.
From his position he could see the Confederate bluffs and a few lights moving there, but otherwise the two armies were under a blanket of darkness. He again felt deeply the sense of isolation48 and loneliness, not for himself alone, but for the whole army. Grant had certainly shown supreme49 daring in pushing far into the South, and the government at Washington had cause for alarm lest he be reckless. If there were any strong hand to draw together the forces of the Confederacy they could surely crush him. But he had already learned in this war that those who struck swift and hard were sure to win. That was Stonewall Jackson's way, and it seemed to be Grant's way, too.
Still unable to sleep, he walked to a better position, where he could see the shimmering50 dark of the river and the misty51 heights with their two circles of cannon. A tall figure standing there turned at his tread and he recognized Colonel Winchester.
“A little, sir, but I think General Grant will pull us through.”
“He will, Dick, and he'll take this fort, too. Grant's the hammer we've been looking for. Look at his record. He's had backsets, but in the end he's succeeded in everything he's tried. The Confederate government and leaders have made a mess of their affairs in the West and Southwest, and General Grant is taking full advantage of it.”
“Do we attack in the morning, sir?”
“We do, Dick, though not by land. Porter, with his seven gunboats, is going to open on the fort, but it will be a hazardous53 undertaking54.”
“Because of the nature of the river, sir?”
“That's it. They can't anchor, and with full steam up, caught in all the violent eddies that the river makes rounding the point, they'll have to fire as best they can.”
“But the gunboats did great work at Fort Henry, sir.”
“So they did, Dick, and we've come a long way South since then, which means that we're making progress and a lot of it here in the West. Well, we'll see to-morrow.”
They walked back to their own camp and sleep came to Dick at last. But he awoke early and found that the thrill of expectation was running through the whole army. Their position did not yet enable them to attack on land, but far out on the river they saw the gunboats moving. Porter, the commander, divided them into two groups. Four of the gunboats were to attack the lower circle of batteries and three were to pour their fire upon the upper ring.
Dick by day even more than by night recognized the difficulty of the task. Before them flowed the vast swift current of the Mississippi, gleaming now in the sunshine, and beyond were the frowning bluffs, crested56 and ringed with cannon. Grant had with him twenty thousand men and his seven gunboats, and Bowen, eight thousand troops. But if the affair lasted long other Southern armies would surely come.
Dick and his comrades had little to do but watch and thousands watched with them. When the sun was fully57 risen the seven boats steamed out in two groups, four farther down the river in order to attack the lower batteries, while the other three up the stream would launch their fire against those on the summit.
He watched the crest55 of the cliffs. He saw plainly through his glasses the muzzles58 of cannon and men moving about the batteries. Then there was a sudden blaze of fire and column of smoke and a shell struck in the water near one of the gunboats. The boat replied and its comrades also sent shot and shell toward the frowning summit. Then the batteries, both lower and upper, replied with full vigor59 and all the cliffs were wrapped in fire and smoke.
The boats steamed in closer and closer, pouring an incessant60 fire from their heavy guns, and both rings of batteries on the cliffs responded. The water of the river spouted61 up in innumerable little geysers and now and then a boat was struck. Over both cliffs and river a great cloud of smoke lowered. It grew so dense62 that Dick and his comrades, watching with eagerness, were unable to tell much of what was happening.
Yet as the smoke lifted or was shot through with the blaze of cannon fire they saw that their prophecies were coming true. The boats in water too deep for anchorage were caught in the powerful eddies and their captains had to show their best seamanship while they steamed back and forth63.
The battle between ship and shore went on for a long time. It seemed at last to the watching union soldiers that the fire from the lower line of batteries was diminishing.
“We're making some way,” said Warner.
“It looks like it,” said Dick. “Their lower batteries are not so well protected as the upper.”
“But there's a big river in between, and we've got to leave it to the boats for to-day, anyhow.”
“Look again at those lower batteries. Their fire is certainly decreasing. I can see it die down.”
A tremendous cheer burst from the troops on the west shore as they saw how much their gallant66 little gunboats had achieved. Every gun in the lower batteries was silent now, but the top of the cliffs was still alive with flame. The batteries there were far from silent. Instead their fire was increasing in volume and power.
The four gunboats that had silenced the lower batteries now moved up to the aid of their comrades, and the seven made a united effort, steaming forward in a sort of half-moon, and raining shot and shell upon the summits. But the guns there, well-sheltered and having every advantage over rocking steamers, maintained an accurate and deadly fire. The decks of the gunboats were swept more than once. Many men were killed or wounded. Heavy shot crashed through their sides, and Dick expected every instant to see some one of them sunk by a huge exploding shell.
“They can't win! They can't win!” he exclaimed. “They'd better draw off before they're sunk!”
“So they had,” said Warner sadly. “Boats are at a disadvantage fighting batteries. The old darky was right when he preferred a train wreck67 to a boat wreck, 'ef the train's smashed, thar you are on the solid ground, but ef the boat blows up, whar is you?' That's sense. The boats are retiring! It's sad, but it's sense. A boat that steams away will live to fight another day.”
Dick was dejected. He fancied he could hear the cheering of their foes68 at what looked like a union defeat, but he recalled that Grant, the bulldog, led them. He would never think of retiring, and he was sure to be ready with some new attempt.
The gunboats drew off to the far western shore and lay there, puffing smoke defiantly69. Their fight with the batteries had lasted five hours and they had suffered severely70. It seemed strange to Dick that none of them had been sunk, and in fact it was strange. All had been hit many times, and one had been pierced by nearly fifty shot or shell. Their killed or wounded were numerous, but their commanders and crews were still resolute71, and ready to go into action whenever General Grant wished.
“Spunky little fellows,” said Pennington. “We don't have many boats out where I live, but I must hand a bunch of laurel to the navy every time.”
“And you can bind72 wreaths around the hair of those navy fellows, too,” said Warner, “and sing songs in their honor whether they win or lose.”
“Now I wonder what's next,” said Dick.
To their surprise the gunboats opened fire again just before sundown, and the batteries replied fiercely. Rolling clouds of smoke mingled73 with the advancing twilight, and the great guns from either side flashed through the coming darkness. Then from a stray word or two dropped by Colonel Winchester Dick surmised74 the reason of this new and rather distant cannonade.
He knew that General Grant had transports up the river above Grand Gulf, and he believed that they were now coming down the stream under cover of the bombardment and the darkness. He confided75 his belief to Warner, who agreed with him. Presently they saw new coils of smoke in the darkness and knew they were right. The transports, steaming swiftly, were soon beyond the range of the batteries, and then the gun boats, drawing off, dropped down the river with them.
Long before the boats reached a point level with Grant's camp the army was being formed in line for embarkation76 on the gunboats and transports. The horses were to be placed on one or two of the transports and the men filled all the other vessels77.
“You can't down Grant,” said Pennington. “A failure with him merely means that he's going to try again.”
“But don't forget the navy and the Father of Waters,” said Dick, as their transports swung from the shore upon the dark surface of the river. “The mighty rivers help us. Look how we went up the Cumberland and the Tennessee and now we've harnessed a flowing ocean for our service.”
“I feel it and so do you. You can't see the bluffs any more. There's nothing in sight, but the lights of the steamers and the transports. We must be somewhere near the middle of the stream, because I can't make out either shore.”
There were two regiments79 aboard the transport, the Winchester and one from Ohio, which had fought by their side at both Perryville and Stone River. Usually these boys chattered80 much, but now they were silent, permeated81 by the same feelings that had overwhelmed Dick. In the darkness—all lights were concealed82 as much as possible—with both banks of the vast river hidden from them, they felt that they were in very truth afloat upon a flowing ocean.
They knew little about their journey, except that they were destined83 for the eastern shore, the same upon which Grand Gulf stood, but they did not worry about this lack of knowledge. They were willing to trust to Grant, and most of them were already asleep, upon the decks, in the cabins, or in any place in which a human body could secure a position.
Dick did not sleep. The feeling of mystery and might made by the tremendous river remained longer in his sensitive and imaginative nature. His mind, too, looked backward. He knew that the great grandfathers of Harry Kenton and himself, the famous Henry Ware84 and the famous Paul Cotter, had passed up and down this monarch85 of streams. He knew of their adventures. How often had he and his cousin, who now, alas86! was on the other side, listened to the stories of those mighty days as they were handed from father to son! Those lads had floated in little boats and he was on a steamer, but it seemed to him that the river with its mighty depths took no account of either, steamer or canoe being all the same to its vast volume of water.
He was standing by the rail looking over, when happening to glance back he saw by the ship's lantern what he thought was a familiar face. A second glance and he was sure. He remembered that fair-haired Ohio lad, and, smiling, he said:
“You're one of those Ohio boys who, marching southward from its mouth in the Ohio, drank the tributary87 river dry clear to its source, the mightiest88 achievement in quenching89 thirst the world has ever known. You're the boy, too, who told about it.”
The youth moved forward, gazed at him and said:
“Now I remember you, too. You're Dick Mason of the Winchester regiment. I heard the Winchesters were on board, but I haven't had time to look around. It was hot when we drank up the river, but it was hotter that afternoon at Perryville. God! what a battle! And again at Stone River, when the Johnnies surprised us and took us in flank. It was you Kentuckians then who saved us.”
“Just as you would have saved us, if it had been the other way.”
“I hope so. But, Mason, we left a lot of the boys behind. A big crowd stopped forever at Perryville, and a bigger at Stone River.”
“And we left many of ours, too. I suppose we'll land soon, won't we, and then take these Grand Gulf forts with troops.”
“Yes, that's the ticket, but I hear, Mason, it's hard to find a landing on the east side. The banks are low there and the river spreads out to a vast distance. After the boats go as far as they can we'll have to get off in water up to our waists and wade90 through treacherous91 floods.”
The question of landing was worrying Grant at that time and worrying him terribly. The water spread far out over the sunken lands and he might have to drop down the river many miles before he could find a landing on solid ground, a fact which would scatter7 his army along a long line, and expose it to defeat by the Southern land forces. But his anxieties were relieved early in the morning when a colored man taken aboard from a canoe told him of a bayou not five miles below Grand Gulf up which his gunboats and transports could go and find a landing for the troops on solid ground.
Dick was asleep when the boats entered the bayou, but he was soon awakened92 by the noise of landing. It was then that most of the Winchester and of the Ohio regiment discovered that they were comrades, thrown together again by the chances of war, and there was a mighty welcome and shaking of hands. But it did not interfere93 with the rapidity of the landing. The Winchester regiment was promptly94 ordered forward and, advancing on solid ground, took a little village without firing a shot.
All that day troops came up and Grant's army, after having gone away from Grand Gulf in darkness, was coming back to it in daylight.
“They say that Pemberton at Vicksburg could gather together fifty thousand men and strike us, while we've only twenty thousand here,” said Pennington.
“But he isn't going to do it,” said Warner. “How do I know? No, I'm not a prophet nor the son of a prophet. There's nothing mysterious about it. This man Grant who leads us knows the value of time. He makes up his mind fast and he acts fast. The Confederate commander doesn't do either. So Grant is bound to win. Let z equal resolution and y equal speed and we have z plus y which equals resolution and speed, that is victory.”
“I hope it will work out that way,” said Dick, “but war isn't altogether mathematics.”
“Not altogether, but that beautiful study plays a great part in every campaign. People are apt to abuse mathematics, when they don't know what they're talking about. The science of mathematics is the very basis of music, divine melody, heaven's harmony.”
“You needn't tell me,” said Pennington, “that a plus b and z minus y lie at the basis of 'Home, Sweet Home' and the 'Star Spangled Banner.' I accept a lot of your tales because you come from an old state like Vermont, but there's a limit, George.”
Warner looked at him pityingly.
“Frank,” he said, “I'm not arguing with you. I'm telling you. Haven't you known me long enough to accept whatever I say as a fact, and to accept it at once and without question? Not to do so is an insult to me and to the truth. Now say over slowly with me: 'The basis of music is mathematics.'”
They said slowly together:
“The basis of music is mathematics.”
“Now I accept your apologies,” said Warner loftily.
Pennington laughed.
“You're a queer fellow, George,” he said. “When this war is over and I receive my general's uniform I'm coming up into the Vermont mountains and look your people over. Will it be safe?”
“Of course, if you learn to read and write by then, and don't come wearing your buffalo95 robe. We're strong on education and manners.”
“Why, George,” said Pennington in the same light tone, “I could read when I was two years old, and, as for writing, I wrote a lot of text-books for the Vermont schools before I came to the war.”
“Shut up, you two,” said Dick. “Don't you know that this is a war and not a talking match?”
“It's not a war just now, or at least there are a few moments between battles,” retorted Warner, “and the best way I can use them is in instructing our ignorant young friend from Nebraska.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Colonel Winchester, who ordered the regiment to move to a new point. General Grant had decided96 to attack a little town called Port Gibson, which commanded the various approaches to Grand Gulf. If he could take that he might shut up Bowen and his force in Grand Gulf. On the other hand, if he failed he might be shut in himself by Confederate armies gathering from Jackson, Vicksburg, and elsewhere. The region, moreover, was complicated for both armies by the mighty Mississippi and the Big Black River, itself a large stream, and there were deep and often unfordable bayous.
But Grant showed great qualities, and Dick, who was experienced enough now to see and know, admired him more than ever. He pushed forward with the utmost resolution and courage. His vanguard, led by McClernand, and including the Winchester regiment, seized solid ground near Port Gibson, but found themselves confronted by a formidable Southern force. Bowen, who commanded in Grand Gulf, was brave and able. Seeing the union army marching toward his rear, and knowing that if Grant took it he would be surrounded, both on land and water, by a force outnumbering his nearly three to one, he marched out at once and took station two miles in front of Port Gibson.
Dick was by the side of Colonel Winchester as he rode forward. The faint echo of shots from the skirmishers far in front showed that they had roused up an enemy. Glasses were put in use at once.
“The Confederates are before us,” said Colonel Winchester.
“So they are, and we're going to have hard fighting,” said a major. “Look what a position!”
Dick said nothing, but he was using his glasses, too. He saw before him rough ground, thickly sown with underbrush. There was also a deep ravine or rather marsh46 choked with vines, bushes, reeds, and trees that like a watery97 soil. The narrow road divided and went around either end of the long work, where the two divisions united again on a ridge98, on which Bowen had placed his fine troops and artillery99.
“I don't see their men yet, except a few skirmishers,” said Dick.
“No, but we'll find them in some good place beyond it,” replied Colonel Winchester, divining Bowen's plan.
It was night when the army in two divisions, one turning to the right and the other to the left, began the circuit of the great marshy100 ravine. Dick noticed that the troops who had struggled so long in mud and water were eager. Here, west of the Alleghanies, the men in blue were always expecting to win.
The sky was sown with stars, casting a filmy light over the marching columns. Dick was with the troops passing to the right, and he observed again their springy and eager tread.
Nor was the night without a lively note. Skirmishers, eager riflemen prowling among the bushes, fired often at one another, and now and then a union cannon sent a shell screaming into some thick clump101 of forest, lest a foe be lurking102 there for ambush103.
The reports of the rifles and cannon kept every one alert and watchful104. Early in the night while it was yet clear Dick often saw the flashes from the firing, but, as the morning hours approached, heavy mists began to rise from that region of damp earth and great waters. He shivered more than once, and on the advice of Sergeant Whitley wrapped his cavalry cloak about him.
“Chills and fever,” said the sergeant sententiously. “So much water and marsh it's hard to escape it. The sooner we fight the better.”
“Well, that's what General Grant thinks already,” said Dick; “so I suppose he doesn't need chills and fever to drive him on. All the same, Sergeant, I'll wrap up as you say.”
All the men in the Winchester regiment were soon doing the same. The mists of the Mississippi, the Big Black and the bayous were raw and cold, although it would be hot later on. But the period of coldness did not last long. Soon the low sun showed in the east and the warm daylight came. In the new light they saw the Confederate forces strongly posted on the ridge where the halves of the road rejoined. As the union column came into view a cannon boomed and a shell burst in the road so near that dirt was thrown upon them as it exploded and one man was wounded. At the same time the column on the left under Osterhaus appeared, having performed its semicircle about the marsh, and the whole union army, weary of body but eager of soul, pressed forward. The Winchester regiment and the Ohio regiment beside it charged hotly, but were received with a fire of great volume and accuracy that swept them from the road. Another battery on their far left also raked them with a cross fire, and so terrible was their reception that they were compelled to abandon some of their own cannon and seek shelter.
The Winchester regiment, except the officers, were not mounted in this march, as Grant would not wait for their horses, which were on another transport. The very fact saved from death many who would have made a more shining target. Dick's own horse was killed at the first fire, and as he leaped clear to escape he went down to his waist in a marsh, another fact which saved his life a second time as the new volleys swept over his head. The horses of other officers also were killed, and the remainder, finding themselves such conspicuous105 targets, sprang to the ground. The frightened animals, tearing the reins106 from their hands, raced through the thickets107 or fell into the marsh.
All the time Dick heard the shells and bullets shrieking109 and whining110 over his head. But, regaining111 his courage and presence of mind, he slowly pulled himself out of the marsh, taking shelter behind a huge cypress112 that grew at its very edge. As he dashed the mud out of his eyes he heard a voice saying:
“Don't push! There's room enough here for the three of us. In fact, there's room enough behind the big trees for all the officers.”
It was Warner who was speaking with such grim irony113, and Pennington by his side was hugging the tree. Shells and shot shrieked114 over their heads and countless115 bullets hummed about them. The soldiers also had taken shelter behind the trees, and Warner's jest about the officers was a jest only. Nevertheless the Southern fire was great in volume and accuracy. Bowen was an able commander with excellent men, and from his position that covered the meeting of the roads he swept both union columns with a continuous hail of death.
“We must get out of this somehow,” said Dick. “If we're held here in these swamps and thickets any longer the Johnnies can shoot us down at their leisure.”
“But we won't be held!” exclaimed Pennington. “Look! One of our brigades is through, and it's charging the enemy on the right!”
It was Hovey who had forced his way through a thicket108, supposed to be impenetrable, and who now, with a full brigade behind him, was rushing upon Bowen's flank. Then, while the Southern defense116 was diverted to this new attack, the Winchester and the Ohio regiment attacked in front, shouting with triumph.
Hovey's rush was overpowering. He drove in the Southern flank, taking four cannon and hundreds of prisoners, but the dauntless Confederate commander, withdrawing his men in perfect order, retreated to a second ridge, where he took up a stronger position than the first.
Resolute and dangerous, the men in gray turned their faces anew to the enemy and sent back a withering117 fire that burned away the front ranks of the union army. Osterhaus, in spite of every effort, was driven back, and the Winchesters and their Ohio friends were compelled to give ground too. It seemed that the utmost of human effort and defiance118 of death could not force the narrow passage.
But a new man, a host in himself, came upon the field. Grant, who had been on foot for two days, endeavoring to get his army through the thickets and morasses119, heard the booming of the cannon and he knew that the vanguards had clashed. He borrowed a cavalry horse and, galloping120 toward the sound of the guns, reached the field at mid-morning. Grant was not impressive in either figure or manner, but the soldiers had learned to believe in him as they always believe in one who leads them to victory.
A tremendous shout greeted his coming and the men, snatching off their hats and caps, waved them aloft. Grant took no notice but rapidly disposed his troops for a new and heavier battle. Dick felt the strong and sure hand over them. The union fire grew in might and rapidity. McPherson arrived with two brigades to help Osterhaus, and the strengthened division was able to send a brigade across a ravine, where it passed further around Bowen's flank and assailed121 him with fury.
Dick felt that their own division under McClernand was also making progress. Although many men were falling they pressed slowly forward, and Grant brought up help for them too. For a long time the struggle was carried on. It was one of the little battles of the war, but its results were important and few were fought with more courage and resolution. Bowen, with only eight thousand against twenty thousand, held fast throughout all the long hot hours of the afternoon. Grant, owing to the nature of the field, was unable to get all his numbers into battle at once.
But when the twilight began to show Dick believed that victory was at hand. They had not yet driven Bowen out, but they were pressing him so close and hard, and Grant was securing so many new positions of advantage, that the Southern leader could not make another such fight against superior numbers in the morning.
Twilight turned into night and Bowen and his men, who had shown so much heroism122, retreated in the dark, leaving six guns and many prisoners as trophies123 of the victors.
It was night when the battle ceased. Cannon and rifles flashed at fitful intervals124, warning skirmishers to keep away, but after a while they too ceased and the union army, exhausted125 by the long march of the night before and the battle of the day, threw itself panting upon the ground. The officers posted the sentinels in triple force, but let the remainder of the men rest.
As Dick lay down in the long grass two or three bullets dropped from his clothes and he became conscious, too, that a bullet had grazed his shoulder. But these trifles did not disturb him. It was so sweet to rest! Nothing could be more heavenly than merely to lie there in the long, soft grass and gaze up at the luminous126 sky, into which the stars now stole to twinkle down at him peacefully.
“Don't go to sleep, Dick,” said a voice near him. “I admit the temptation is strong. I feel it myself, but General Grant may have to send you and me forward to-night to win another battle.”
“George, I'm glad to hear your preachy voice over there. Hurt any?”
“No. A million cannon balls brushed my right cheek and another million brushed my left cheek, but they didn't touch me. They scared me to death, but in the last few minutes I've begun to come back to life. In a quarter of an hour I'll be just as much alive as I ever was.”
“Do you know anything of Pennington?”
“Yes. The rascal127 is lying about six feet beyond me, sound asleep. In spite of all I could do he wouldn't stay awake. I've punched him all over to see if he was wounded, but as he didn't groan128 at a single punch, he's all right.”
“That being the case, I'm going to follow Pennington's example. You may lecture me as much as you please, George, but you'll lecture only the night, because I'll be far away from here in a land of sweet dreams.”
“All right, if you're going to do it, I will too. You'll hear my snore before I hear yours.”
Both sank in a few minutes into a deep slumber, and when they awoke the next morning they found that Bowen had abandoned Port Gibson and had retreated into Grand Gulf again. There was great elation129 among the lads and Dick began to feel that the position of the union army in the far South was strengthened immeasurably. He heard that Sherman, who had stood so staunchly at Shiloh, was on his way to join Grant. Their united forces would press the siege of Grand Gulf and would also turn to strike at any foe who might approach from the rear.
Never since the war began had Dick felt so elated as he did that morning. When he saw the short, thick-set figure of Grant riding by he believed that the union, in the West at least, had found its man at last.
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1
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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mired
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| abbr.microreciprocal degree 迈尔德（色温单位）v.深陷( mire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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piazzas
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| n.广场，市场( piazza的名词复数 ) | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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21
inhaling
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| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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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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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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35
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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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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bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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41
prows
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| n.船首( prow的名词复数 ) | |
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mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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43
swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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44
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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48
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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49
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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50
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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51
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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52
fathoming
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| 测量 | |
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53
hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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54
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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55
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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56
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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57
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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58
muzzles
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| 枪口( muzzle的名词复数 )； （防止动物咬人的）口套； （四足动物的）鼻口部； （狗）等凸出的鼻子和口 | |
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59
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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60
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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61
spouted
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| adj.装有嘴的v.（指液体）喷出( spout的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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62
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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63
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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66
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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67
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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68
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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69
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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70
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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71
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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72
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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73
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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74
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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75
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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76
embarkation
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| n. 乘船, 搭机, 开船 | |
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77
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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78
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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79
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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80
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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81
permeated
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| 弥漫( permeate的过去式和过去分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
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82
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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83
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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84
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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85
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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86
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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87
tributary
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| n.支流；纳贡国；adj.附庸的；辅助的；支流的 | |
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88
mightiest
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| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
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89
quenching
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| 淬火，熄 | |
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90
wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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91
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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92
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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93
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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94
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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95
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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97
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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98
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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99
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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100
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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101
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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102
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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103
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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104
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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105
conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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106
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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107
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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cypress
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| n.柏树 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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morasses
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| n.缠作一团( morass的名词复数 )；困境；沼泽；陷阱 | |
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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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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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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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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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