The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation''s Crisis by Joseph A. Altsheler
CHAPTER X. ANTIETAM
Dick arose at the first flash of dawn. All the men of the Winchesterregiment were on their feet. The officers had sent their horses to therear, knowing that they would be worse than useless among the rocks andin the forest in front of them.
A mist arising from the two rivers floated over everything, but Dickknew that the battle was at hand. The Northern trumpets were calling,and in the haze in front of them the Southern trumpets were calling,too.
The fog lifted, and then Dick saw the Confederate lines stretchedthrough forest, rock and ploughed ground. Near the front was a railfence with lines of skirmishers crouching behind it. As the last bit ofmist rolled away the fence became a twisted line of flame. The fire ofthe Southern skirmishers crashed in the Union ranks, and the Northernskirmishers, pressing in on the right replied with a fire equally swiftand deadly. Then came the roar of the Southern cannon, well aimed andtearing gaps in the Union lines.
"Its time to charge!" exclaimed Pennington. "It scares me, standingstill under the enemy's fire, but I forget about it when I'm rushingforward."
The Winchester regiment did not move for the present, although thebattle thickened and deepened about it. The fire of the Confederatecannon was heavy and terrible, yet the Union masses on either wing hadbegun to press forward. Hooker hurled in two divisions, one under Meade,and one under Doubleday, and another came up behind to support them.The western men were here and remembering how they had been decimated atManassas, they fought for revenge as well as patriotism.
At last the Winchester regiment in the center moved forward also. Theystruck heavy ploughed land, and as they struggled through it they met adevastating fire. It seemed to Dick that the last of the little regimentwas about to be blown away, but as he looked through the fire and smokehe saw Warner and Pennington still by his side, and the colonel a littleahead, waving his sword and shouting orders that could not be heard.
Dick saw shining far before him the white walls of the Dunkard church,and he was seized with a frantic desire to reach it. It seemed to him ifthey could get there that the victory would be won. Yet they made littleprogress. The cannon facing them fairly spouted fire, and thousands ofexpert riflemen in front of them lying behind ridges and among rocksand bushes sent shower after shower of leaden balls that swept away thefront ranks of the charging Union lines. The shell and the shrapnel andthe grape and the round shot made a great noise, but the little bulletscoming in swarms like bees were the true messengers of death.
Jackson and four thousand of his veterans formed the thin line betweenthe Dunkard church and the Antietam. They were ragged and worn by war,but they were the children of victory, led by a man of genius, and theyfelt equal to any task. Near Jackson stood his favorite young aide,Harry Kenton, and on the other side was the thin regiment of theInvincibles, led by Colonel Leonidas Talbot, and Lieutenant-ColonelHector St. Hilaire.
Around the church itself were the Texans under Hood, stalwart, sunburnedmen who could ride like Comanches, some of whom when lads had beenpresent at San Jacinto, when the Texans struck with such terrible mightand success for liberty.
"Are we winning? Tell me, that we are winning!" shouted Dick in Warner'sear.
"We're not winning, but we will! Confound that fog! It's coming upagain!" Warner shouted back.
The heavy fog from the Potomac and the Antietam which the early andburning sunrise had driven away was drifting back, thickened by thesmoke from the cannon and rifles. The gray lines in front disappearedand the church was hidden. Yet the Northern artillery continued to poura terrible fire through the smoke toward the point where the Confederateinfantry had been posted.
Dick heard at the same time a tremendous roar on the left, and he knewthat the Union batteries beyond the Antietam had opened a flanking fireon the Southern army. He breathed a sigh of triumph. McClellan, whocould organize and prepare so well, was aroused at last to such a pointthat he could concentrate his full strength in battle itself, and pushhome with all his might until able to snatch the reward, victory. Asthe lad heard the supporting guns across the Antietam, he suddenly foundhimself shouting with all his might. His voice could not be heard in theuproar, but he saw that the lips of those about him were moving in likemanner.
The two corps on the peninsula had a good leader that morning. Hooker,fiery, impetuous, scorning death, continually led his men to the attack.The gaps in their ranks were closed up, and on they went, infantry,cavalry and artillery. The fog blew away again and they beheld once morethe gray lines of the Southerners, and the white wooden walls of thechurch.
So fierce and overwhelming was the Northern rush that all of Jackson'smen and the Texans were borne back, and were driven from the ridgesand out of the woods. Exultant, the men in blue followed, their roar oftriumph swelling above the thunder of the battle.
"Victory!" cried Dick, but Warner shouted:
"Look out!"
The keen eyes of the young Vermonter had seen masses of infantry andcavalry on their flank. Hooker, fierce and impetuous, had gone toofar, and now the Southern trumpets sang the charge. Stuart, fiery anddauntless, his saber flashing, led his charging horsemen, and Hill threwhis infantry upon the Northern flank.
It seemed to Dick that he was in a huge volcano of fire and smoke.Men who, in their calm moments, did not hate one another, glared intohostile eyes. There was often actual physical contact, and the flashfrom the cannon and rifles blazed in Dick's face. The Southernersin front who had been driven back returned, and as Stuart and Hillcontinued to beat hard upon their flanks, the troops of Hooker werecompelled to retreat. Once more the white church faded in the mists andsmoke.
But Hooker and his generals rallied their men and advanced anew. Theground around the Dunkard church became one of the most sanguinaryplaces in all America. One side advanced and then the other, andthey continually reeled to and fro. Even the young soldiers knew theimmensity of the stake. This was the open ground, elsewhere the Antietamseparated the fighting armies. But victory here would decide the wholebattle, and the war, too. The Northern troops fought for a triumph thatwould end all, and the Southern troops for salvation.
So close and obstinate was the conflict that colonels and generalsthemselves were in the thick of it. Starke and Lawton of the South wereboth killed. Mansfield, who led one of the Northern army corps fell deadin the very front line, and the valiant Hooker, caught in the arms ofhis soldiers, was borne away so severely wounded that he could no longergive orders.
Scarcely any generals were left on either side, but the colonels andthe majors and the captains still led the men into the thick of theconflict. Dick felt a terrible constriction. It was as if some one werechoking him with powerful hands, and he strove for breath. He knew thatthe masses pressed upon their flank by Stuart and Hill, were riddlingthem through and through.
The Union men were giving ground, slowly, it is true, and leaving heapsof dead and wounded behind them, but nobody could stand the terriblerifle fire that was raking them at short range from side to side, andthey were no longer able to advance. Now Dick heard once more thatterrible and triumphant rebel yell, and it seemed to him that they wereabout to be destroyed utterly, when shell and shot began to shriek andwhistle over their heads. The woods behind them were alive with theblaze of fire, and the great Union batteries were driving back thetriumphant and cheering Confederates.
The Union generals on the other side of the Antietam saw the fate thatwas about to overtake Hooker's valiant men, and Sumner, with anotherarmy corps, had crossed the river to the rescue, coming just in time.They moved up to Hooker's men and the united masses returned to thecharge.
The battle grew more desperate with the arrival of fresh troops. Againit was charge and repulse, charge and repulse, and the continuousswaying to and fro by two combatants, each resolved to win. There werethe Union men who had forced the passes through the mountains to reachthis field, and they were struggling to follow up those successes bya victory far greater, and there were the Confederates resolve
The fire became so tremendous that the men could no longer hear orders.Here was a field of ripe corn, the stems and blades higher than a man'shead, forty acres or so, nearly a quarter of a mile each way, but thecorn soon ceased to hide the combatants from one another. The fire fromthe cannon and rifles came in such close sheets that scarcely a stalkstood upright in that whole field.
Long this mighty conflict swayed back and forth. Dick had seen nothinglike it before, not even at the Second Manassas. It was almost hand tohand. Cannons were lost and retaken by each side. Stuart, finding theground too rough for his cavalry, dismounted them and put them atthe guns. Jackson, with an eye that missed nothing, called up Early'sbrigade and hurled it into the battle. The North replied with freshtroops, and the combat was as much in doubt as ever. Every brigadecommander on the Southern side had been killed or wounded. Nearly allthe colonels had fallen, but Jackson's men still fought with a fire andspirit that only such a leader as he could inspire.
It seemed to Dick that the whole world was on fire with the flash ofcannon and rifles. The roar and crash came from not only in front andaround him, but far down the side, where the main army of McClellan wasadvancing directly upon the Antietam, and the stone bridges which theConfederates had not found time to tear down.
There stood Lee, supremely confident that if his lieutenant, Jackson,could not hold the Northern opening into the peninsula nobody could.His men, who knew the desperate nature of the crisis, said that they hadnever seen him more confident than he was that day.
On the ridge just south of the village was a huge limestone bowlder,and Lee, field glasses in hand, stood on it. He listened a while to thegrowing thunder of the battle in the north--the Dunkard church, aroundwhich Jackson and Hooker were fighting so desperately, was a mileaway--but he soon turned his attention to the blue masses across theAntietam.
The Southern commander faced the Antietam with the hard-hittingLongstreet on his right, his left being composed of the forces ofJackson, already in furious conflict. Nothing escaped him. As helistened to the thunder of the dreadful battle in the north, he neverceased to watch the great army in front of him on the other side of thelittle river.
While Hooker and his men were fighting with such desperate courage, whydid not McClellan and the main body of the Union army move forward tothe attack? Doubtless Lee asked himself this question, and doubtlessalso he had gauged accurately the mind of the Union leader, who alwayssaw two or even three enemies where but one stood. Relying so stronglyupon his judgment he dared to strip himself yet further and send moremen to Jackson. A messenger brought him news that more of Jackson's menhad come to his aid and that he was now holding the whole line againstthe attacks of Meade and Hooker and all the rest.
Lee nodded and turned his glasses again toward the long blue line acrossthe Antietam. McClellan himself was there, standing on a hill and alsowatching. Around him was a great division under the command of Burnside,and his time to win victory had come. He sent the order to Burnside tomove forward and force the Antietam. It is said that at this moment Leehad only five thousand men with him, all the rest having been sent toJackson, and, if so, time itself fought against the Union, as it was afull two hours before Burnside carried out his order and moved forwardon the Antietam.
But Dick, on the north, did not know that it was as yet only cannonfire, and not the charge of troops to the south and west. In truth, heknew little of his own part of the battle. Once he was knocked down, butit was only the wind from a cannon ball, and when he sprang to his feetand drew a few long breaths he was as well as ever.
From muttered talk around him, talk that he could hear under the thunderof the battle, he learned that Sumner, who had come with the greatreinforcement, was now leading the battle, with Hooker wounded andMansfield dying.
Sumner, as brave and daring as any, had gathered twenty thousand men,and they were advancing in splendid order over the wreck of the dead andthe dying, apparently an irresistible force.
Jackson, standing at the edge of a wood, saw the magnificent advance,and while the officers around him despaired, he did not think ofawaiting the Northern attack, but prepared instead for an attack of hisown. There was word that McLaws and the Harper's Ferry men had come.Jackson galloped to meet them, formed them quickly with his own, andthen the Southern drums rolled out the charge. The weary veterans,gathering themselves anew for another burst of strength, fell with alltheir might on the Northern flank.
Dick felt the force of that charge. Men seemed to be driven in upon him.He was hurled down, how he knew not, but he sprang up again, and then hesaw that their advance was stopped. Long lines of bayonets advanced uponthem, and a terrible artillery fire crashed through and through theirranks. Two or three thousand men in blue fell in a moment or so. Fortunein an instant had made a terrible change of front.
Dick shouted aloud in despair as the brigades steadily gave back. Thegreat Union batteries were firing over their heads again, but even theycould not arrest the Southern advance. Their regiments were coming nowacross the shorn cornfield. Dick saw the galloping horses drawing theirbatteries up closer and around the flanks. And the rebel yell of victorywhich he had heard too often was now swelling from thousands of throats,as the fierce sons of the South rushed upon their foe.
But the North refused to abandon the battle here. These were splendidtroops, so tenacious and so much bent upon victory that they scarcelyneeded leaders. Sedgwick, another of their gallant generals, fell andwas carried off the field, wounded severely. Richardson, yet another,was killed a little later, but heavy reinforcements arrived, and theSoutherners were driven back in their turn.
These were picked troops who met here, veterans almost all of them, andneither would yield. The superior weight and range of the Northern gunsgave them an advantage in artillery, and it was used to the utmost. Dickdid not see how men could live under such a horrible fire, but therewere the gray lines replying, and wherever they yielded, yielding butlittle.
Noon came and then one o'clock. They had been fighting since dawn, anda combat so impetuous and terrible could not be maintained forever,particularly when the awful demon of war was eating up men so fast. Manyof the regiments on either side had lost more than half their number andwould lose more. They were human beings, and even the unwounded began tocollapse from mere physical exhaustion. Some dropped to the ground fromsheer inability to stand, and as they lay there, they heard to the southand west the rolling thunder that told of Burnside's belated advanceupon the Antietam.
Down where Lee stood watching, the battle blazed up with extraordinaryrapidity. The men who had been held in leash so long by McClellan wereanxious to get at the foe. Burnside's brigades charged directly for oneof the stone bridges, and Lee, watching from his bowlder, hurried theSouthern troops forward to meet them. Again the Northern artilleryproved its worth. The great batteries sent a hurricane of death over theheads of the men in blue and toward the town of Sharpsburg. Despite allthe valor of the Southern veterans, the heavy masses of the Union menforced their way across the bridge to the peninsula. Lee's batteries andinfantry regiments could not hold them.
It seemed now that Lee's own force was to be destroyed and thatvictory was won, but fortune had in store yet another of thosedazzling recoveries for the South. At the very moment when Lee seemedoverwhelmed, A. P. Hill, as valiant and vigorous as the other Hill,arrived with the last of the Harper's Ferry veterans, having marchedseventeen miles, almost on a dead run. They crossed the Potomac at aford below the mouth of the Antietam, then crossed the Antietam on thelowest bridge back into the peninsula, and without waiting for ordersrushed upon the Northern flank.
The attack was so sudden and fierce that Burnside's entire divisionreeled back. Here, as in the north, the face of the battle had beenchanged in an instant. Not only could Colonel Winchester mourn overthose lost two days, but he could mourn over every lost half hour inthem. Had Hill come a half hour later Lee's whole center would have beenswept away.
Lee and his great lieutenants, Jackson and Longstreet, were stillconfident. Despite the disparity in numbers they had beaten back everyattack.
A. P. Hill was a man who corresponded in fire and impetuosity to Hooker.The number of his veterans was not so great, but their rush was sofierce, and they struck at such a critical time that the Northernbrigades were unable to hold the ground they had gained. More troopsfrom the dying battle on the north came to Lee's aid, and every attemptof McClellan to take Sharpsburg failed.
Dick, fighting with his comrades on the north, knew little of what waspassing on the peninsula in the south, but he became conscious after awhile that the appalling fury of the battle around him was diminishing.He had not seen such a desperate hand-to-hand battle at either Shiloh orthe Second Manassas, and they were terrible enough. But he felt as theConfederates themselves had felt, that the Southern army was fightingfor existence.
But as the day waned, Dick believed that they would never be able tocrush Jackson. The Union troops always returned to the attack, but themen in gray never failed to meet it, and actual physical exhaustionoverwhelmed the combatants. Pennington went down, and Dick dragged himto his feet, fearing that he was wounded mortally, but found that hiscomrade had merely dropped through weakness.
The long day of heat and strife neared its close. Neither Northerntenacity nor Southern fire could win, and the sun began to droop overthe field piled so thickly with bodies. As the twilight crept up thebattle sank in all parts of the peninsula. McClellan, who had lost thosetwo most precious days, and who had finally failed to make use of allhis numbers at the same time, now, great in preparation, as usual, madeready for the emergency of the morrow.
All the powerful and improved artillery which McClellan had in suchabundance was brought up. The mathematical minds and the workshops ofthe North bore full fruit upon this sanguinary field of Antietam. Theshattered divisions of Hooker, with which Dick and his comrades lay,were sheltered behind a great line of artillery. No less than thirtyrifled guns of the latest and finest make were massed in one battery tocommand the road by which the South might attack.
To the south the Northern artillery was equally strong, and beyond theAntietam also it was massed in battery after battery to protect its men.
But the coming twilight found both sides too exhausted to move. Thesun was setting upon the fiercest single day's fighting ever seen inAmerica. Nearly twenty-five thousand dead or wounded lay upon the field.More than one fourth of the Southern army was killed or wounded, yet itwas in Lee's mind to attack on the morrow.
After night had come the weary Southern generals--those leftalive--reported to Lee as he sat on his horse in the road. The shadowsgathered on his face, as they told of their awful losses, and of thelong list of high officers killed or wounded. Jackson was among thelast, and he was gloomy. The man who had always insisted upon battle didnot insist upon it now. Hood reported that his Texans, who had fought sovaliantly for the Dunkard church, were almost destroyed.
The scene in the darkness with the awful battlefield around them was onewhich not even the greatest of painters could have reproduced. When thelast general had told his tale of slaughter and destruction, they satfor a while in silence. They realized the smallness of their army, andthe immense extent of their losses. The light wind that had sprungup swept over the dead faces of thousands of the bravest men in theSouthern army. They had held their ground, but on the morrow McClellancould bring into line three to one and an artillery far superior alikein quality, weight and numbers to theirs.
The strange, intense silence lasted. Every eye was upon Lee. When thegenerals were making their reports he had shown more emotion than theyhad ever seen on his face before. Now he was quiet, but he drew hislips close together, his eyes shone with blue fire, and rising in hisstirrups he said:
"We will not cross the Potomac to-night, gentlemen."
Then while they still waited in silence, he said:
"Go to your commands! Reform and strengthen your lines. Collect all yourstragglers. Bring up every man who is in the rear. If McClellan wants abattle again in the morning, he shall have it. Now go!"
Not a general said a word in objection, in fact, they did not speakat all, but rode slowly away, every one to his command. Yet they were,without exception, against the decision of their great leader.
Even Stonewall Jackson did not want a second battle. He had shownthrough the doubtful conflict a most extraordinary calmness. While thecombat in the north, where he commanded, was at its height, he had saton Little Sorrel, now happily restored to him, eating from time totime a peach that he took from his pocket. Nothing had escaped hisobservation; he watched every movement, and noticed every rise and fallin the tide of success. His silence now indicated that he concurred withthe others in his belief that the remains of the Confederate armyshould withdraw across the Potomac, but his manner indicated completeacquiescence in the decision of his leader.
But in the north of the peninsula the remnants of either side had scarcea thought to bestow upon victory or defeat. It was a question that didnot concern them for the present, so utter was their exhaustion. Asnight came and the battle ceased they dropped where they were and sankinto sleep or a stupor that was deeper than sleep.
But Dick this time did neither. His nervous system had been strained soseverely that it was impossible for him to keep still. He had found thatall of his friends had received wounds, although they were too slightto put them out of action. But the Winchester regiment had sufferedterribly again. It did not have a hundred men left fit for service,and even at that it had got off better than some others. In one of theVirginia regiments under Longstreet only fourteen men had been leftunhurt.
Dick stood beside his colonel--Warner and Pennington were lying in astupor--and he was appalled. The battle had been fought within a narrowarea, and the tremendous destruction was visible in the moonlight,heaped up everywhere. Colonel Winchester was as much shaken as he, andthe two, the man and the boy, walked toward the picket line, drawn by asort of hideous fascination, as they looked upon the area of conflict.
The dead lay in windrows between the two armies which were waiting tofight on the dawn. Dick and the colonel walked toward the field wherethe corn had been waving high that morning, and where it was now mownby cannon and rifles to the last stalk. In the edge of the wood the boypaused and grasping the man suddenly by the arm pulled him back.
"Look! Look!" he exclaimed in a sharp whisper. "The Confederateskirmishers! The woods are full of them! They are making ready for anight attack!" Both he and Colonel Winchester sprang back behind a bigtree, sheltering themselves from a possible shot. But no sound came,not even that of men creeping forward through the undergrowth. All theyheard was the moaning of the wind through the foliage. They waited, andthen the two looked at each other. The true reason for the extraordinarysilence had occurred to both at the same instant, and they stepped fromthe shelter of the tree.
Awed and appalled, the man and the boy gazed at the silent forms whichlay row on row in the woods and in the shorn cornfield. It seemed as ifthey slept, but Dick knew that all were dead. He and Colonel Winchestergazed again at each other and shuddering turned away lest they disturbthe sleep of the dead.
When they returned to a position behind the guns they heard otherscoming in with equally terrible tales. A sunken lane that ran betweenthe hostile lines was filled to the brim with dead. Boys, yet intheir teens, with nerves completely shattered for the time, chatteredhysterically of what they had seen. The Antietam was still running red.Both Lee and Stonewall Jackson had been killed and the whole Confederatearmy would be taken in the morning. Some said, on the other hand, thatthe Southerners still had a hundred thousand men, and that McClellanwould certainly be beaten the next day, if he did not retreat in time.
None of the talk, either of victory or defeat, made any impression uponDick. His senses were too much dulled by all through which he had gone.Words no longer meant anything. Although the night was warm he began toshi
"Lie down, Dick," said Colonel Winchester, who noticed him. "I don'tthink you can stand it any longer. Here, under this tree will do."
Dick threw himself down and Colonel Winchester, finding a blanket,spread it over him. Then the boy closed his eyes, and, for a while,phase after phase of the terrible conflict passed before him. He couldsee the white wall of the Dunkard church, the Bloody Lane, and mostghastly of all, those dead men in rows lying on their arms, likeregiments asleep, but his nerves grew quiet at last, and after midnighthe slept.
Dawn came and found the two armies ready. Dick and the sad remnantof the Winchester regiment rose to their feet. Although food had beenprepared for them very few in all these brigades had touched a bite thenight before, sinking into sleep or stupor before it could be brought tothem. But now they ate hungrily while they watched for their foes, theskirmishers of either army already being massed in front to be ready forany movement by the other.
As on the morning before, a mist arose from the Potomac and theAntietam. The sun, bright and hot, soon dispersed it. But there was nomovement by either army. Dick did not hear the sound of a single shot.Warner and Pennington, recovered from their stupor, stood beside himgazing southward toward the rocks and ridges, where the Confederate armylay.
"I'm thinking," said Warner, "that they're just as much exhausted as weare. We're waiting for an attack, and they're waiting for the same. Theodds are at least ninety per cent in favor of my theory. Their lossesare something awful, and I don't think they can do anything against us.Look how our batteries are massed for them."
Dick was watching through his glasses, and even with their aid hecould see no movement within the Southern lines. Hours passed and stillneither army stirred. McClellan counted his tremendous losses, and he,too, preferred to await attack rather than offer it. His old obsessionthat his enemy was double his real strength seized him, and he was notwilling to risk his army in a second rush upon Lee.
While Dick and his comrades were waiting through the long morning hours,Lee and Jackson and his other lieutenants were deciding whether or notthey should make an attack of their own. But when they studied withtheir glasses the Northern lines and the great batteries, they decidedthat it would be better not to try it.
When noon came and still no shot had been fired, Colonel Winchestershook his head.
"We might yet destroy the Southern army," he said to Dick, "but I'mconvinced that General McClellan will not move it."
The hot afternoon passed, and then the night came with the sound ofrumbling wheels and marching men. Dick surmised that Lee was leaving thepeninsula, and, crossing the Potomac in to Virginia, and that thereforetactical victory would rest with the Northern side. The noises continuedall night long, but McClellan made no advance, nor did he do so the nextday, while the whole Confederate army was crossing the Potomac, untilnearly night.
But the Winchester regiment and several more of the same skeletoncharacter, pushing forward a little on the morning of that day, foundthat the last Confederate soldier was gone from Sharpsburg. ColonelWinchester and other officers were eager for the Army of the Potomac toattack the Army of Northern Virginia, while it dragged itself across thewide and dangerous ford.
But McClellan delayed again, and it was sunset when Dick saw the firstsign of action. A strong division with cannon crossed the river andattacked the batteries which were covering the Southern rearguard. Fourguns and prisoners were taken, but when Lee heard of it he sent backJackson, who beat off all pursuit.
Dick and his comrades did not see this last fight, which was the dyingecho of Antietam. They felt that they had defeated the enemy's purpose,but they did not rejoice over any victory. The sword of Antietam hadturned back Lee and Jackson for a time and perhaps had saved the Union,but Dick was gloomy and depressed that so little had been won when theyseemed to hold so much in the hollow of their hands.
This feeling spread through the whole army, and the privates, even,talked of it openly. Nobody could forget those precious two days lostbefore the battle. Orders No. 191 had put all the cards in their hands,but the commander had not played them.
"I feel that we've really failed," said Warner, as they sat beside acamp fire. "The Southerners certainly fought like demons, but we oughtto have been there long before Jackson came, and we ought to havewhipped them, even after Jackson did come."
"But we didn't," said Pennington, "and so we've got the job to do allover again. You know, George, we're bound to win."
"Of course, Frank; but while we're doing it the country is being rippedto pieces. I'll never quit mourning over that lost chance at Antietam."
"At any rate we came off better than at the Second Manassas," said Dick."What's ahead of us now?"
"I don't know," replied Warner. "I saw Shepard yesterday, and he saysthat the Southerners are recuperating in Virginia. We need restorativesourselves, and I don't suppose we'll have any important movements alongthis line for a while."
"But there'll be big fighting somewhere," said Dick.