They pushed on toward the summit of a hill where a good part of the confederate army stood just beneath the rise of the hill, firing over it toward the Yankees below. Through all the smoke and confusion, one man stood boldly tall on his horse directing the fighting men around him. Who was he? Did the man have no fear?
"Fire at will," was the order, and for a brief moment Daniel looked out at wounded soldiers crying out in pain, and then bent his head down to load his rifle. Setting the stock of his rifle on the ground between his feet, he pulled a cartridge from his cartridge box, tore off the paper with his teeth, and poured the powder down the barrel of the rifle. Then, placing the minie ball from the cartridge into the top of the gun, with his ramrod he jammed the bullet and its powder down the length of the barrel. He put on the percussion cap, cocked the gun, and standing tall and aiming, fired his first shot in the direction of gunshots and smoke on the other side of the hill.
He had no idea if his minie ball hit anything. Quickly, he bent down to load again. The process of loading had been drilled into every man and most of them were able to load and shoot three times a minute. As Daniel and his brigade kept up the firepower, he noticed that they seemed to be making a difference.
The fighting continued, with the incessant staccato reports of thousands of rifles, the rising clouds of smoke making it difficult to see the enemy. Daniel saw men fall around him, but in the excitement he paid little heed, for it seemed that even more of the enemy were lying on the ground. Then, came the order to fix bayonets, to charge up over the rim of the hill, and to scream at the top of their lungs to incite fear and confusion.
Of a sudden, more than a thousand men rose up screaming, cresting the rim of the hill and rushing down the other side with guns blazing. As he ran forward with the others toward the enemy, Daniel felt no fear though men were falling around him. They ran, reaching the bottom of the hill where they could see the enemy clearly beneath the smoke of their guns. It was a glorious sight to see for they were rushing away from the onslaught that bore down on them.
What started as an enemy retreat quickly turned into a rout, as scared men dropped their haversacks, their bed rolls and even their rifles, running as fast as their legs could carry them.
The rebel army continued after them, the whooping and hollering becoming even more pronounced as each man realized that they had the enemy on the run. The proud Yankees were hightailing it back in total disarray. The rout continued, and as the victorious confederates ran on, Daniel noticed that there were civilians in carriages also rushing back to Washington as fast as they could.
He suddenly realized that they had come to witness the expected easy defeat of the rebels. For them it must have been like watching a sporting event, and he surmised, that judging from the fancy carriages, they had probably brought picnic lunches and wine. Angrily he looked at them from across the stream, but he did not want to shoot them.
The order came to pull back. To halt, to return to their starting point. Why? thought Daniel. We have them on the run, why not continue?
He saw Eli among the hundred or more men walking back in no particular order. "We showed them, didn't we?" he said, putting an arm around him as they companionably trudged back up the hill.
"We did," answered Eli, "but at what cost?"
In the elation of winning the battle, Daniel had forgotten about all the fallen soldiers. Now, walking back up the hill, he knew exactly what Eli meant. Men were lying on the ground in all kinds of contorted positions, some alive, some begging for help or for water, others silent in sleep or death. He knelt on one knee to give a man a drink from his canteen, and in a moment, Eli knelt down to do the same.
Chapter Eight
Jenny heard the news. Who hadn't of the big victory for the south at Manassas. But she also heard reports of the terrible death toll and casualty counts. As word gradually filtered back through ongoing newspaper accounts, she was appalled at the travesty of war. What was even worse for her personally, and for many others, was that there were still no letters from the sons, friends, and husbands who had fought in the dreadful battle. Jenny had to wait, hope, and pray, like so many of her neighbors, that Daniel, her brother, and others she knew were safe.
At home, her father often rode into town to get one thing or another, but now, in these times, always to bring home the latest edition of the paper. Jenny would see him intently reading it, and then at the dinner table, or often while they worked outside, it was usually the main topic of conversation.
"Why didn't our boys pursue them after the battle back to Washington?" said her father, on learning the full story of the glorious southern victory at Manassas.
"Because of all the deaths, Pa. We must have lost hundreds of our own men, and many more wounded" answered her brother, David.
"God, I hope Jeb is all right. We still don't know his whereabouts, or if he was in the battle or not. I rue that he went to join the Yankees.
"I hope to God Daniel is all right too," said Jenny, who lifted her lowered head to speak.
Her father turned to her, and speaking with surprising tenderness, said, "I do too, honey." Turning back to his son, he continued. "The thing is, if our men had pursued them back to Washington we could have ended the war right there. Now, the rash president Lincoln has issued a call for 500,000 more troops. It's crazy, that's what it is. Why can't they just leave us alone? Do they think the states have no rights whatever anymore?"
"Really, father?" asked her brother.
"Yes. Just read it in today's paper. 500,000 for a three year term of duty."
"Oh, my!" exhaled Jenny, shaking her head. "Surely no one thinks the war will go on for that long, do they, Pa?"
"With that man in the White House, who knows? That's why we should have pressed forward, commandeered the city, and make them sue for peace."
Jenny didn't listen anymore. Quickly finishing her meal, she left to go to her room. Sitting on her bed, she clasped her hands, bowed her head and said prayers for Daniel, Jeb, and for all those struck down in battle, "Rebels," as they were being called, as well as "Yankees." It shook her that so many men were dying. God, she thought, can't you bring an end to this senseless killing?
YOU ARE READING
Rebel Heart: (Swept Away) Of Life and Love during the American Civil War
Historical FictionSwept Away draws from Civil War records, from accounts of life in the times, and from a true love story. It brings to life the story of Jenny, a girl turning 18 as the war begins. It finds her caught up in the love of a man for whom she is only his...