The Titans (37 page)

started when a distant camion boomed. As they labored on to their assigned bivouac area, the noise came again-but not frequently. Only a few isolated The Titans505 batteries were firing. Still, given the confusion of the rear lines, the dust and the promise of worse heat next day, Gideon found the cannon fire profoundly unsettling. At last they reached the bivouac-a field of broom sedge a little south of the center of the eight-mile-long Confederate line. The field lay between Bull Run and the Sudley-Manassas road. The road ran roughly southeast to northwest, intersecting the Warrenton Turnpike north of their position. The troopers saw to their horses, drew rations and then collapsed to rest. For the last few hours Gideon's body had been almost totally numb. Stopping didn't relieve the feeling. He limped as he walked, his clothing soggy from foul- smelling sweat. Finally he settled himself in the sedge, his head on his saddle. He shut his eyes and groaned in sheer relief comonly to rouse a moment later at the sound of someone calling his name. Disgusted, he struggled to open his eyes. He'd slept a little without realizing it. The sedge field was darker. The new arrival was Harris. He flung his saddle down beside Gideon's. "Well, I guess it's gonna be tomorrow for sure." "You woke me up to tell me that?" Gideon covered his mouth to hide a jaw-cracking yawn. "Thought you'd like to know," Harris replied in a laconic way. "I was talkin" to one of the boys on Jeb's staff. That high-assed Major Duncan, he says there's all kinds of folks comin' out from Washington in the morning." Gideon lowered his hand from his mouth. Tiny drops of chill sweat moistened the dust on his palm, "You mean more soldiers?" "Shit, no. Folks] Congressmen and their wives. Ladies and their gentlemen friends. Reporters-was 506Ride to Glory Gideon thought briefly of his father as Harris went on, "Guess the civilians are rentin' every damn carriage they can find. Even bringin' picnic hampers so they can eat while they watch the fun. "Course, I doubt they'll get too close to the lines-was Gideon's head felt like a huge stone. He could barely move it from side to side to express his doubt: "Sightseers-Yanks who pick blackberries and go home when they take a notion-Jack, this whole war's unbelievable." "Maybe so, but Major Duncan got the part about the sightseers straight from Bory's staff." "Bory still receiving information from the Wild Rose, is he?" "He must be." "Right now I'd be happy if Jeb sent us in to fight some girls with picnic baskets. I'm too damn worn out to tackle infantry." "For fuckin" sure," Harris groaned as he sprawled out. "Unless you've got some other startling news, Captain, request permission to go to sleep." "Permission granted." Harris put his head on his saddle, curled on his side and was soon snoring. But there was to be no rest for Gideon. He'd barely dozed off again-when someone else touched his shoulder. Yelping, he sat up. "Dammit, Jack-to Oh." He blinked at the shadowy figure looming between him and the last glimmers of scarlet in the west. "Didn't recognize you, Rodney." "Hate to bother you, Gid-Lieutenant," Rodney amended when Harris rolled over, peered at him, then rolled back. "Isn't any bother," Gideon said with feeble humor. "I'm so tired, I can't hear what you're saying anyway." The Titans507 Crestfallen, Rodney started away. Gideon lumbered up, caught his Mend's elbow: "Listen, I didn't mean that. What's your problem?" "No problem. I just wanted to remind you of your promise." Gideon stared blankly. He didn't even catch on when Rodney patted the front of his jacket, though he suspected he should know the significance of the slight bulge. He just couldn't dredge it from his soggy mind. "The flag," Rodney said. "Oh, yes. The Stars and Bars your girl gave you-was "You said you'd get it to her if anything happens to me." "You're worrying over nothing. Just remember Jeb's warning. Stick with the company all the time and you'll come through just fine. Every one of us will." He hoped the lie sounded convincing. "Sure, I know that," Rodney said. Something about his friend's eyes troubled Gideon. All at once he realized what it was. Despite the attempted reassurance, Rodney was afraid. In a soft voice, he added, "I'm only asking in case-was Gideon broke in: "And my promise stands-in case. But you won't be able to look out for yourself tomorrow if you're dead on your feet." He squeezed Rodney's arm. "Go catch some sleep. That's an order." Rodney checked to be sure Harris was asleep. Then: "Thank you, Gid." He turned and shambled away in the dusk. Gideon settled himself on the ground again. He was so exhausted, he wasn't even troubled by a fleeting thought: Rodney knows. Tomorrow could be the last day of our lives. Fortunately he had no nightmares about it. Instead, he dreamed an erotic dream of Margaret. 508Ride to Glory At first he thought every Confederate drummer boy this side of Richmond had taken up his sticks and slammed them on drumheads simultaneously. He scratched his left trouser leg. Something was wiggling down there. He squashed it. Then he raised his head. Jack Harris was already up. Gideon squinted at the sky. He could barely discern the treetops to the east. The sound which had penetrated his mind as an enormous drumbeat took on a deeper, more realistic tone the second time. Instantly, the sleepiness left him. Harris peered in the direction of the artillery fire: "Comin" from up around the Turnpike. We ain't got anything that big. Bet it's one of them Parrotls." Gideon had heard of the rifled cannon. All the Confederates could throw against them were outmoded smoothbores. In every part of the sedge field, men were waking. A bugle blared. Gideon scrambled to his feet "What time is it, Jack?" "Five thirty. Quarter to six." Both picked up their saddles. Gideon sniffed the still air: "JL-ORD, it's going to be hot today." "In more ways'n one." At the edge of the field, Stuart popped out of the tent where he'd evidently been conferring with his senior officers. The officers looked drowsy but Stuart didn't. He was grinning, his teeth a brilliant patch of white amid the luxuriance of his beard and mustache. He faced the north like a man hearing the sound of heavenly trumpets. Gideon and Harris roused the sluggards in I Company comincluding Second Lieutenant Sunderlind, who The Titans509 listened to the artillery fire with a ridiculous grin on his face. Quartermaster sergeants converged on a supply wagon that had arrived in sometime during the night While the cannonading continued, coffee pots were set to boil over hastily built fires. Noncoms supervised the issuing of horse rations from the wagon. Each man tied the nose bag on his mount, then returned to fill his canteen from barrels of tepid water. By the time dawn broke, smoke was drifting above the oak trees screening the regiment from the country to the north. Perhaps the firing meant the Yanks were already attempting a thrust across the stone bridge over Bull Run. Gideon was hazy about the local geography. He'd seen no detailed map of the area; maps were in short supply, and reserved for the senior staff. But as he understood it, Beauregard's defense line followed the twisting course of Bull Run, starting down near Manassas Junction and running up to the Turnpike-the spot where everyone anticipated a Federal attack. He questioned Harris; found out that Beauregard's strategy supposedly called for a sharp thrust against the Union left. It seemed instead that the Federals were launching a similar thrust on the Confederate left- and doing it earlier. By seven the cannonading was much louder. Confederate batteries were answering, he imagined. The sun was already glaring in the tops of the oaks. Time dragged. An occasional crackle of muskets blended with the artillery fire. Gideon began to sweat. Not a single courier came galloping to Stuart with orders. Finally, furious with impatience, the commander had the bugler blow stand to horse. Gideon's relief was short-lived. Major Duncan rode up and barked at Harris. I Company was to remain behind to hold the position. With colors and the Stars and Bars out in front, the 510Ride to Glory rest of the regiment formed into column of fours. The troopers disappeared along a rutted track leading through the heavy stands of oak. Gideon noticed that a few men in I Company looked relieved at being left behind. An intolerable two hours followed. Toward the end, with the smoke growing heavier and heavier above the trees, Gideon heard cannon booming from a new quarter-more to the northwest. Unless he misunderstood, that was far beyond the end of the Confederate left- Finally the regiment came thundering back. Gideon saw a few light wounds but nothing worse. They'd pushed to the stone bridge, encountered stiff Federal resistance from Tyler's division and withdrawn. Gideon questioned the excited men. To them, the meaning of the new bombardment was clear: McDowell's main thrust-a surprise flanking movement that must have gotten underway not long after midnight-was coming down from the north, directly against the left end of the Confederate line concentrated near the Turnpike. Two whole Yank divisions were evidently pouring down from a ford near a place called Sudley Springs. Gideon asked a lieutenant in B Company to tell him exactly what was happening on the battlefield. The man replied bitterly: "Confusion, that's what's happening. Damned if I think Old Bory was ready for a roll-up of the flank. They're sending units up from our right flank like fire brigades. May already be too late. Last we saw, Shanks Evans was pulled back from the stone bridge and going into line above the Turnpike." As the morning dragged on, Stuart stomped back and forth in front of his tent. He paused once in a while to take a report from an incoming scout, and sent each rider out again with a reminder that the First Virginia The Titans511 was awaiting orders. Evidently the battle had grown too hot for anyone to think of the First Virginia. Around noon Stuart finally lost patience and advanced the entire regiment northwestward over low, forested ridges. The long column swung in an arc and doubled back to a thick stand of oak trees overlooking the Sudley-Manassas road. The Turnpike junction was barely visible up to the left. Due east lay a plateau which was actually the top of a fair-sized hill. A portion of a stream-Young's Branch-could be seen curving away from the side of the hill nearest the Turnpike. As Gideon dismounted and gazed out from the oaks, he understood why the regiment had been forgotten. Where the Warrenton Turnpike arrowed northeast from the junction to the invisible stone bridge, smoke mingled with blowing dust clouds. North of the road he glimpsed blue uniforms as well as gray ones; glittering bayonets; rank upon rank of men charging and countercharging; artillery in battery, firing- It was difficult to tell which side some of the blue and gray uniforms belonged to until masses of men clad in the latter color began to fall back across the Turnpike and climb the moderate slope of the hill directly opposite the First Virginia's position. The Henry House Hill, someone said it was called-after the family inhabiting one of two farmhouses visible occasionally through the thickening smoke. Confederate cannon roared on the eastern edge of the Henry Hill. The batteries of Imboden, Pendleton, Alburtis and Stanard. But their smoothbores were taking more damage than they were giving. Heavy fire poured from Federal guns on the north side of the highway. More Yanks came streaming from the trees of the Matthews Hill above the Turnpike, obviously intending to cross and assault the Confederate reinforcements ap 512Ride to Glory pearing all over the Henry House Hill. It was a scene such as Gideon had never witnessed, let alone imagined. Because of the smoke and dust, the battle had a certain blurred unreality-except for the sudden brilliance of blood when men fell, bayoneted or cut down by musket fire. Those men screamed, and that was real. So was the thunder of the artillery; and the whizzing and crashing of projectiles. Wave after wave of Federal troops climbed the Henry House Hill, only to be blown back by the Confederate gunners. But the blue ranks kept coming. The Confederate infantry seemed to be in disorder. They held positions for a while, then retreated under the furious cannonading from Matthews Hill. A scout reported the attackers who had come down at Sudley Springs had been joined by Sherman's brigade, which had stormed across Bull Run not far above the stone bridge. The Union force was growing. Gideon could see it. There appeared to be thousands of Yanks crossing the highway and climbing the hillside. The Union bombardment intensified. Shot and shell decimated the hill's defenders. Gray-clad foot troops pitched over, or fled to escape the bursts. Gideon saw a cannon and Umber hit; wood, iron, horseflesh and human flesh all exploded simultaneously. Surveying the carnage, he thought of those spectators who were supposed to have ridden out from Washington to watch the fight. He hoped they were safe and comfortable on some distant knoll, enjoying their picnic lunches and titillated by the stutter of the guns. He doubted they'd enjoy watching the battle itself. He didn't. The smoke made it impossible to see everything, most of all the grand strategic pattern-if either side had one. What he did see continued to sicken and horrify him. Stuart was still upset by the regiment's inaction. He The Titans513 kept riders galloping back and forth between the First Virginia and the Henry House Hill. The reports they brought back were discouraging: Only Colonel Bartow's Georgians, Wade Hampton's South Carolina Legion and a mixed brigade from Winchester commen of Mississippi, Alabama and North Carolina under General Barnard Bee-were holding off the utter collapse of the Confederate defenses- All at once that situation changed. Stuart jammed his field glasses to his eyes and pointed through rifts in the smoke. Muskets held by men lying prone bristled from a heavy growth of pine trees at the south side of the Henry House Hill. The word spread along the ranks of men standing beside their horses: those were Virginians! Five of Brigadier Jackson's regiments. Sufficiently protected so that the Federals would have to come all the way to the exposed hilltop to get at them. How late was it? Gideon squinted at the yellow-gray haze hiding the sun. Past noon, certainly- And hot as a furnace. Humid heat. Rain would fall by morning. He took a drink from his canteen. The water was running low. The pungent stink of fresh droppings told him Dancer was nervous. But no more than he. By the hundreds, Yanks came up the Henry slope, then were blasted back by the fire of Jackson's sharpshooters. Yank batteries were working their way across the Turnpike, lobbing in more shells and
exploding canister that scythed men down with bits of murderous metal. Corpses lay all over the hill. Except for Jackson's line, the Confederates weren't holding. Entire companies streamed to the rear in panic. Another scout arrived from Jackson. The rider's arm was a tangle of gray fabric, ripped flesh, bloody muscle. Though Gideon was a good distance from the com 514Ride to Glory mander, he heard the courier's almost hysterical shout: "Colonel-to tion "Calm down, man, what is it?" "Johnston and Beauregard are on the field, trying to stop the rout. Barnard Bee's dead." The troopers frowned and muttered. Stuart said, "You're sure?" "Yes, sir. He was shot from the saddle while he tried to gather his men. I-I saw him fall. He was shouting. Pointing to the Virginians. Telling his men Jackson was standing like a stone wall, so they should rally too-was "I'm sorry Bee's gone, but I'm not interested in his phrase-making," Stuart snapped with uncharacteristic harshness. "Did you reach Brigadier Jackson?" "I-did." The man swayed in his saddle, near to fainting. He fought to stay upright "I reminded him you were ready." "And?" "He-requested no assistance. He's been hit." More groans from the men. Though Jackson was still feared, respect for him had risen rapidly after the Falling Waters fight. "How badly?" Stuart wanted to know. "Only a little nick in the finger, he-was The man swayed and slid off his horse. Stuart ordered two troopers to carry the scout a hundred yards to the rear and put him in a safe place. There was no medical help nearby. Harris asked Rodney Arbuckle the time. He'd forgotten to wind his pocket watch. It had stopped at three past one. Gideon never did hear the hour because a shell whined in and burst fifty yards to the south of the regiments, sending oak limbs crashing. Horses bucked and whinnied. Soon Stuart was pacing again, slamming one gaunt- leted fist into another. Gideon unstoppered his canteen and drank it The warm water would be the last he'd The Titans515 get for a while. In the heat, thirst was almost as unbearable as the waiting. Shouts riveted his attention on four Federal brigades in line massing for another-and perhaps final-assault on the Henry House Hill. Two Union batteries previously across the Turnpike were right behind them. Another scout came back. Stuart sprang forward to help him dismount. Still more grim news. The Henry farmhouse-lost from view long ago in the smoke-had been hit. The widow Henry, eighty-four years old, had died when an enemy shell burst through the wall of her bedroom. And Jackson's Virginians were threatened on the left. "I don't want to hear about that!" Stuart roared. "I want ordersl" The courier shook his head helplessly. Stuart walked away, the ostrich plume on his hat quivering. The Yank brigades swept up the hillside. The two artillery batteries followed and unlimbered. Now the enemy had cannon on the hill itself-and up near the Turnpike, Jack Harris pointed out a column advancing southward along the Sudley-Manassas road. Gideon caught flashes of bayonets in the dust. Finally a courier arrived with the kind of message the commander had been awaiting: "Are you Colonel Stuart?" "I am." "General Jackson's compliments, sir. His left flank is in danger-was Angrily, Stuart indicated the Union troops on the Sudley road: "That's hardly a secret. If that's all you came to tell me, you wasted your time!" "It isn't all, sir. General Jackson directs that you bring your command into action to protect the flank." Stuart's anger cooled. "Thank you. We'll do so immediately." 516Ride to Glory He ignored the bugler. His bellow could be heard by every man who stood waiting beside his horse: "Mount." Heart slamming in his chest, Gideon hoisted himself into the saddle; checked his saber to be sure it was loose in the scabbard; quickly inspected the pair of loaded Colt's revolvers thrust into his sash- He saw Rodney struggling with his mount as the column of fours formed. He shouted: "Private Arbuckle-in formation where you belong!" Rodney clenched his teeth, kicked his horse viciously and took his place. Stuart unsheathed his saber. Raised it in a graceful arc: "Column of fours-trotr Some three hundred horsemen began moving out of the oaks. Above the hoofbeats, the musketry, the cannon fire, Gideon heard a voice in his mind: Glorious, my boy. Gloriousl Wrong. Wrong, by God. It was ugly and frightening as hell; that was the truth Gideon Kent saw in those moments when the First Virginia headed into action. CHAPTER The Waters of Wrath HOT JULY AIR FANNED GIDEON'S FACE as he urged Dancer on. Dust and bitter powder smoke stung his eyes. Up the road the Yank column appeared and disappeared in the rolling yellow-gray clouds. But the regiment would cross well ahead of the enemy. The First Virginia was entering the battle at a little past two in the nfternoon by Gideon's reckoning- thundering straight up to the holocaust on the Henry House Hill. Another command was relayed by the captains in the column: "Draw sabers!" "Draw sabers!" "DRAW SABERS?"' Blades slid out, the metal catching red glints from exploding shells. Gideon's mouth was dry, his eyes slitted. The frantic rhythm of his blood pounded in his ears, loud as Dancer's thudding hoofs. A pain in his midsection seemed to be eathig him alive. He thought of Margaret. I wish I could tell you again how I loved- How I do love you. The regimental colors and the Stars and Bars vanished briefly in a thin stand of oaks at the summit. One by one, the companies negotiated the trees and burst into the open- Gideon rode past terrified men in gray who were