The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisis, Joseph A. Altsheler [free children's ebooks online .txt] 📗

“Vicksburg is ours,” said Dick.

“Looks like it,” said Warner.

But Grant told Bowen that he would treat only with Pemberton, and after delays General Pemberton came out. General Grant went forward to meet him. The two stood alone under a tree within seventy yards of the Confederate lines and talked.

Chance or fortune presented a startling coincidence. Almost at the very moment that Grant and Pemberton met under the tree Pickett's men were rising to their feet and preparing for the immortal but fatal charge at Gettysburg. While the cannon had ceased suddenly at Vicksburg they were thundering from many score mouths at Gettysburg. Fortune was launching two thunderbolts upon the Confederacy at the same moment. They were to strike upon fields a thousand miles apart, and the double blow was to be mortal.

But Dick knew nothing of Gettysburg then, nor was he to know anything until days afterward. He certainly had no thought of the East while he watched the two generals under the tree. Dick's comrades were with him, but so intense was their curiosity that none of them spoke. Thousands of men were gazing with the same eagerness, and the Southern earthworks were covered with the defenders.

It was one of the most dramatic scenes in Dick's life, the two men under the tree, and the tens of thousands who watched. Nobody moved. It seemed that they scarcely breathed. After the continuous roar of firing the sudden silence was oppressive, and Dick felt the blood pounding in his ears.

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 storm threatened no one noticed. All eyes were still for Grant and Pemberton. After a while each returned to his own command, and there was an armistice until the next day, when the full surrender was made, and Grant and his officers rode into Vicksburg. At the same time Lee was gathering his men for the retreat into the South from the stricken field of Gettysburg. It was the Fourth of July, the eighty-seventh anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, and no one could have possibly conceived 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 without hesitation.

The light as of old filtered into the room, and Colonel Woodville lay just as before in bed with his great bald head upon the pillow. Miss Woodville sat beside the bed, reading aloud from Addison. Dick's step was light, but the colonel heard him and held up a finger. The lad paused until Miss Woodville, finishing a long sentence, closed the book. Then the colonel, raising a little the great white thatch of his eyebrows, 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. My daughter informs me that the Yankees are in Vicksburg, and I have no reason 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 offered my sword to General Grant, but this confounded leg of mine is still weak.”

“At least, sir, we come with something besides arms. May I bring you rations?”

“You are generous, young man, and my daughter and I appreciate the obvious nature of your errand here. Speaking for both of us, a little food will not be unwelcome.”

“Tell me first, what has become of your nephew. Has he escaped from the city?”

“He slipped out nearly a week ago, and will join his father's regiment in Bragg's command. That scoundrel, Slade, is gone too. Since the city had 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, when they moved to quarters outside in the shell-torn city. Dick saw that they were comfortable, and then his mind turned toward Tennessee. Detachments from Grant's army were to be sent to that of Rosecrans, who was now heavily threatened by Bragg, and the Winchester regiment, which really belonged with him, was sure to go.

The order to march soon came, and it was welcome. The regiment, or rather what was left of it, promptly embarked upon one of the river steamers and started northward.

As they stood on the deck and looked down at the yellow waters in which Dick had swum on his trusty plank Warner said:

“I've news of importance. It arrived in a telegram to General Grant, and I 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 called Gettysburg 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.