The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisis by Joseph A. Altsheler
CHAPTER XI. THE TAKING OF VICKSBURG
Dick was a fine swimmer, he had a good stout plank, and the waters ofthe river were warm. He felt that the chief dangers were passed, andthat the muddy Mississippi would now bear him safely to the blockadingfleet below. He gave the plank another shove, sending it farther outinto the stream, and then raised himself up until his elbows rested uponit. He could thus float gently with a little propulsion from his legs tothe place where he wanted to go.
He saw lights along the bluff and the bar below, and then, with a suddenshoot of alarm he noticed a dim shadow move slowly from the shore. Itwas a long boat, holding a dozen rowers, and several men armed withrifles, and it was coming toward him. He did not know whether it wasmerely an ordinary patrol, or whether they had seen the darker blot onthe stream that he and the plank made, but in any event the result wouldbe the same.
He slipped his arm off the plank and sank in the stream to the chin.Then, propelling it gently and without any splashing of the water, hecontinued to move down the stream. He was hopeful that the riflemenwould mistake him and his plank for one of those stumps or logs whichthe Mississippi carries so often on its bosom.
The head of the boat turned from him a little, and he felt sure now thathe would drift away unnoticed, but one of the soldiers suddenly raisedhis rifle and fired. Dick heard the bullet clip the water close besidehim, and he swam as hard as he could for a few moments. Then hesettled again into quiet, as he saw the boat was not coming toward him.Doubtless the man had merely fired the shot to satisfy himself that itwas really a log, and if Dick allowed it to float naturally he would beconvinced.
It was a tremendous trial of nerves to run the gantlet in this way, butas it was that or nothing he exerted all his will upon his body, and lethimself float slowly, sunk again to the mouth and with his head thrownback, so it would present only a few inches above the surface.
The boat turned, and seemed once upon the point of coming toward him. Hecould hear the creaking of the oars and the men talking, but they turnedagain suddenly and rowed up the stream. Again, his fate had hung on achance impulse. He drifted slowly on until the town and the bluffs sankin the darkness. Then he drew himself upon his plank and swam, doublinghis speed. He knew that some of the Union gunboats lay not far below,and, when he rounded a curve, he saw a light in the stream, but near theshore.
He approached cautiously, knowing that the men on the vessel would be onguard against secret attack, and presently he discerned the outlinesof a sidewheel steamer, converted into a warship and bearing guns. Hedropped down by the side of his plank until he was quite close, andthen, raising himself upon it again, he shouted with all his voice:"Ship ahoy!"
He did not know whether that was the customary method of hailing on theMississippi, but it was a memory from his nautical reading, and so heshouted a second and yet a third time at the top of his voice: "Shipahoy!" Figures bearing rifles appeared at the side, and a rough voicedemanded in language highly unparliamentary who was there and what he,she or it wanted.
Dick was in a genial mood. He had escaped with an ease that surprisedhim, and the warmth of the water in which he was immersed had saved himfrom cramp or chill. The spirit of recklessness seized him again. Hethrew himself astride his plank, and called out:
"A detachment of the army of the United States escaped from captivity inVicksburg, and wishing to rejoin it. It's infantry, not marines, and itneeds land."
"Then advance infantry and give the countersign."
"Grant and Victory," replied Dick in a loud, clear voice.
A laugh came from the steamer, and the rough voice said again:
"Let the detachment advance again, and holding up its hands, showitself."
Dick paddled closer and, steadying himself as well as he could, threwup his hands. The light of a ship's lantern was thrown directly on hisface, and the same voice ordered men to take a small boat and get him.
When Dick stepped upon the deck of the steamer, water streaming fromhis clothes, several men looked at him curiously. One in a dingy blueuniform he believed to be the owner of the rough voice. But his face wasnot rough.
"Who are you?" asked the man.
"Lieutenant Richard Mason of Colonel Winchester's regiment in the armyof General Grant, sent several days ago with a message to the fleet, butdriven by Confederate scouts and skirmishers into Vicksburg, where helay hidden, seeking a chance of escape."
"And he found it to-night, coming down the river like a big catfish."
"He did, sir. He could find no other way, and he arrived on the usefulboard which is now floating away on the current."
"What proof have you that you are what you say."
"That I saw you before you saw me and hailed you."
"It's not enough."
"Then here is the message that I was to have delivered to the commanderof the fleet. It's pretty wet, but I think you can make it out."
He drew the dispatch from the inside pocket of his waistcoat. It wassoaked through, but when they turned the ship's lantern upon it thecaptain could make out its tenor and the names. Doubt could exist nolonger and he clapped his hands heartily upon the lad's shoulder.
"Come into the cabin and have something to eat and dry clothes," hesaid. "This is the converted steamer Union, and I'm its commander,Captain William Hays. I judge that you've had an extraordinary time."
"I have, captain, and the hardest of it all was when I saw our armyrepulsed to-day."
"It was bad and the wounded are still lying on the field, but it doesn'tmean that Vicksburg will have a single moment of rest. Listen to that,will you, lieutenant?"
The far boom of a cannon came, and Dick knew that its shell would breakover the unhappy town. But he had grown so used to the cannonade thatit made little impression upon him, and, shrugging his shoulders, hedescended the gangway with the captain.
Clothing that would fit him well enough was found, and once more he wasdry and warm. Hot coffee and good food were brought him, and while heate and drank Captain Hays asked him many questions. What was the rebelstrength in Vicksburg? Were they exultant over their victory of the day?Did they think they could hold out? What food supply did they have?
Dick answered all the questions openly and frankly as far as he could.He really knew little or nothing about those of importance, and, as forhimself, he merely said that he had hid in a cave, many of which hadbeen dug in Vicksburg. He did not mention Colonel Woodville or hisdaughter.
"Now," said Captain Hays, when he finished his supper, "you can havea bunk. Yes, lieutenant, you must take it. I could put you ashoreto-night, but it's not worth while. Get a good night's sleep, and we'llsee to-morrow."
Dick knew that he was right, and, quelling his impatience, he lay downin one of the bunks and slept until morning.
Then, after a solid breakfast, he went ashore with the good wishes ofCaptain Hays, and, a few hours later, he was with the Union army and hisown regiment. Again he was welcomed as one dead and his own heart wasfull of rejoicing because all of his friends were alive. Warner alonehad been wounded, a bullet cutting into his shoulder, but not hurtinghim much. He wore a bandage, his face had a becoming pallor, andPennington charged that he was making the most of it.
"But it was an awful day," said Warner, "and there's a lot of gloomin the camp. Still, we're not moving away and the reinforcements arecoming."
Dick explained to Colonel Winchester why he had failed in his mission,and the colonel promised to report in turn to the commander that thehand of God had intervened. Dick's conscience was now at rest, and heresumed at once his duties with the regiment.
Many days passed. While Grant did not make any other attack uponVicksburg his circle of steel grew tighter, and the rain of shells andbombs upon the devoted town never ceased. Reinforcements poured forward.His army rose to nearly eighty thousand men, and Johnston, hoveringnear, gathering together what men he could, did not dare to strike. Dickwas reminded more than once of Caesar's famous siege of Alesia, aboutwhich h
There were long, long days of intrenching, skirmishing and idleness. Mayturned into June, and still the steel coil enclosed Vicksburg. Here theUnion men were hopeful, but the news from the East was bad. Not muchfiltered through, and none of it struck a happy note. Lee, withhis invincible legions, was still sweeping northward. Doubtless theConfederate hosts now trod the soil of a free State, and Dick and hiscomrades feared in their very souls that Lee was marching to anothergreat victory.
"I wish I could hear from Harry Kenton," said Dick to Warner. "I'd liketo know whether he passed through Chancellorsville safely."
"Don't you worry about him," said Warner. "That rebel cousin of yourshas luck. He also has skill. Let x equal luck and y skill. Now x plus yequals the combination of luck and skill, which is safety. Thatproves to me mathematically that he is unharmed and that he is ridingnorthward--to defeat, I hope."
"We've got to win here," said Dick. "If we don't, I'm thinking thecause of the Union will be more than doubtful. We don't seem to have thegenerals in the East that we have in the West. Our leaders hang on hereand they don't overestimate the enemy."
"That's so," said Pennington. "Now, I wonder what 'Pap' Thomas isdoing."
"He's somewhere in Tennessee, I suppose, watching Bragg," said Dick."That's a man I like, and, I think, after this affair here is over, wemay go back to his command. If we do succeed in taking Vicksburg,it seems likely to me that the heavy fighting will be up there inTennessee, where Bragg's army is."
"Do you know if your uncle, Colonel Kenton, is in Vicksburg?"
"I don't think so. In fact, I'm sure he isn't. His regiment is withBragg. Well, George, what does your algebra tell us?"
Warner had taken out his little volume again and was studying itintently. But he raised his head long enough to reply.
"I have just achieved the solution of a very important mathematicalproblem," he answered in precise tones. "An army of about thirty-fivethousand men occupies a town located on a river. It is besieged byanother army of about seventy-five thousand men flushed with victory.The besiegers occupy the river with a strong fleet. They are also ledby a general who has shown skill and extraordinary tenacity, while thecommander of the besieged has not shown much of either quality and mustfeel great discouragement."
"But you're only stating the side of the besieged."
"Don't interrupt. It's impolite. I mean to be thoroughly fair. Nowcome the factors favoring the besieged. The assailing army, despite itssuperior numbers, is far in the enemy's country. It may be attacked atany time by another army outside, small, but led by a very able general.Now, you have both sides presented to you, but I have already arrived atthe determining factor. What would you say it is, Dick?"
"I don't know."
"You haven't used your reasoning powers. Remember that the man who notmerely thinks, but who thinks hard and continuously always wins. It'svery simple. The answer is in four letters, f-o-o-d, food. As we knowpositively, Pemberton was able to provision Vicksburg for five orsix weeks. We can't break in and he can't break out. When his foodis exhausted, as it soon will be, he'll have to give up. The siege ofVicksburg is over. I know everything, except the exact date."
Dick was inclined to believe that Warner was right, but he forgot abouthis prediction, because a mail came down the river that afternoon, andhe received a letter from his mother, his beautiful young mother, whooften seemed just like an elder sister.
She was in Pendleton, she wrote, staying comfortably in their home. Thetown was occupied by three companies of veteran Union troops who behavedwell. They were always glad to have a garrison of good soldiers whetherFederal or Confederate--sometimes it was one and sometimes the other.But she thought the present Union force would remain quite a while, asshe did not look for the reappearance of the Southern army in Kentucky.But if the town were left without troops she would go back to herrelatives in the Bluegrass, as Bill Skelly's band to the eastward inthe mountains was raiding and plundering and had become a great menace.Guerillas were increasing in numbers in those doubtful regions.
"The regular troops will have to deal with those fellows later on," saidDick.
"Dr. Russell has had a letter from Harry Kenton," continued Mrs. Mason."It was written from some point near the Pennsylvania line, and, whileHarry did not say so in his letter, I know that General Lee is expectinga great victory in the North. Harry was not hurt at Chancellorsville,but he says he does not see how he escaped, the fire of the cannon andrifles being more awful than any that he had ever seen before. He waspresent when General Jackson was mortally wounded, and he seems to havebeen deeply affected by it. He writes that the Confederacy could betterhave lost a hundred thousand men."
There was more in the letter, but it was strictly personal to Dick, andit closed with her heartfelt prayer that God, who had led him safely sofar, would lead him safely through all.
After reading it several times he put it in a hidden pocket. Soldiersdid not receive many letters and they always treasured them. Ah, hisdear, beautiful young mother! How could anyone ever harm her! Yet thethought of Skelly and his outlaws made him uneasy. He hoped that theUnion garrison would remain in Pendleton permanently.
His mind was soon compelled to turn back to the siege. They were diggingtrenches and creeping closer and closer. Warner had made no mistakein his mathematics. The army and the people in Vicksburg had begun tosuffer from a lack of food. They were down to half rations. They hadneither tea nor coffee, and medicines were exhausted. Many and many atime they looked forth from their hills and prayed for Johnston, but hecould not come. Always the Union flag floated before them, and the ringof steel so strong and broad was contracting inch by inch.
The Northern engineers ran mines under the Confederate works. They usedevery device of ingenious minds to push the siege. Spies brought wordthat all food would soon be gone in Vicksburg, and Grant, grim ofpurpose, took another hitch in the steel belt about the hopeless town.The hostile earthworks and trenches were now so near that the men couldhear one another talking. Sometimes in a lull of the firing theywould come out and exchange tobacco or news. It was impossible for theofficers to prevent it, and they really did not seek to do so, as themen fought just as well when they returned to their works.
June now drew to a close and the great heats of July were at hand. Dickwas convinced that the defense of Vicksburg was drawing to a like close.They had proof that some of the irregulars in Vicksburg had escapedthrough the lines and he was convinced that Slade would be among them.They were the rats and Vicksburg was the sinking ship.
They heard that Johnston had gathered together twenty-five thousand menand was at last marching to the relief of the town. Dick believed thatGrant must have laughed one of his grimmest laughs. They knew thatJohnston's men were worn and half-starved, and had been harassed byother Union troops. Johnston was skillful, but he would only be a leanand hungry wolf attacking a grizzly bear. He was sure that all dangerfrom him had passed.
Now, as they closed in the Northern guns increased their fire. It seemedto Dick that they could have blown away the whole plateau of Vicksburgby this time. The storm of shells raked the town, and he was glad thatthe people had been able to dig caves for refuge. Colonel Woodville mustbe doing some of his greatest swearing now. Dick thought of him withsympathy and friendliness.
"I don't think it can last much longer, Mr. Mason," said Sergeant DanielWhitley on the morning of the second of July. "Their guns don't answerours often and it means that they're out of ammunition, or almost.Besides, you can stand shells and bullets easier than lack of food.'Pears to me I can nearly feel 'em crumpling up before us."
Trumpets blew the next morning. All the firing ceased suddenly and thethree lads saw a Southern general with several officers of lower rank,riding forward under a white flag. It was Bowen, who came out to meetGrant.
Dick drew a deep, long breath. He knew that this was the end. So did hiscomrades. A cheer started and swept part
"Vicksburg is ours," said Dick.
"Looks like it," said Warner.
But Grant told Bowen that he would treat only with Pemberton, and afterdelays General Pemberton came out. General Grant went forward to meethim. The two stood alone under a tree within seventy yards of theConfederate lines and talked.
Chance or fortune presented a startling coincidence. Almost at the verymoment that Grant and Pemberton met under the tree Pickett's men wererising to their feet and preparing for the immortal but fatal charge atGettysburg. While the cannon had ceased suddenly at Vicksburg they werethundering from many score mouths at Gettysburg. Fortune was launchingtwo thunderbolts upon the Confederacy at the same moment. They were tostrike upon fields a thousand miles apart, and the double blow was to bemortal.
But Dick knew nothing of Gettysburg then, nor was he to know anythinguntil days afterward. He certainly had no thought of the East while hewatched the two generals under the tree. Dick's comrades were with him,but so intense was their curiosity that none of them spoke. Thousandsof men were gazing with the same eagerness, and the Southern earthworkswere covered with the defenders.
It was one of the most dramatic scenes in Dick's life, the two men underthe tree, and the tens of thousands who watched. Nobody moved. It seemedthat they scarcely breathed. After the continuous roar of firing thesudden silence was oppressive, and Dick felt the blood pounding in hisears.
The heat was close and heavy. Black clouds were floating up in the west,and lightning glimmered now and then on the horizon. Although the stormthreatened no one noticed. All eyes were still for Grant and Pemberton.After a while each returned to his own command, and there was anarmistice until the next day, when the full surrender was made, andGrant and his officers rode into Vicksburg. At the same time Lee wasgathering his men for the retreat into the South from the stricken fieldof Gettysburg. It was the Fourth of July, the eighty-seventh anniversaryof the Declaration of Independence, and no one could have possiblyconceived a more striking celebration.
As soon as Dick was free for a little space he hurried to the ravine,and, as before, found there the open door. He passed in withouthesitation.
The light as of old filtered into the room, and Colonel Woodville layjust as before in bed with his great bald head upon the pillow. MissWoodville sat beside the bed, reading aloud from Addison. Dick's stepwas light, but the colonel heard him and held up a finger. The ladpaused until Miss Woodville, finishing a long sentence, closed thebook. Then the colonel, raising a little the great white thatch of hiseyebrows, said:
"Young sir, you have returned again, and, personally, you are welcome,but I do not conceive how you can stand the company you keep. Mydaughter informs me that the Yankees are in Vicksburg, and I have noreason to doubt the statement."
He paused, and Dick said:
"Yes, Colonel, it's true."
"I suppose we must endure it. I should have gone myself and have offeredmy sword to General Grant, but this confounded leg of mine is stillweak."
"At least, sir, we come with something besides arms. May I bring yourations?"
"You are generous, young man, and my daughter and I appreciate theobvious nature of your errand here. Speaking for both of us, a littlefood will not be unwelcome."
"Tell me first, what has become of your nephew. Has he escaped from thecity?"
"He slipped out nearly a week ago, and will join his father's regimentin Bragg's command. That scoundrel, Slade, is gone too. Since the cityhad to be surrendered I would gladly have made you a present of Slade,but it's out of my power now."
Dick soon returned with ample food for them and helped them later, whenthey moved to quarters outside in the shell-torn city. Dick saw thatthey were comfortable, and then his mind turned toward Tennessee.Detachments from Grant's army were to be sent to that of Rosecrans, whowas now heavily threatened by Bragg, and the Winchester regiment, whichreally belonged with him, was sure to go.
The order to march soon came, and it was welcome. The regiment, orrather what was left of it, promptly embarked upon one of the riversteamers and started northward.
As they stood on the deck and looked down at the yellow waters in whichDick had swum on his trusty plank Warner said:
"I've news of importance. It arrived in a telegram to General Grant, andI heard it just as we were coming on board."
"What is it?" asked Dick.
"General Lee was defeated in a great battle at a little place calledGettysburg in Pennsylvania, and has retreated into Virginia."
"Gettysburg and Vicksburg!" exclaimed Dick. "The wheel has turned nearly'round. The Confederacy is doomed now."
"I think so, too," said Warner.