Inside the works was the
little town of Dover, and they were defended by fifteen thousand men,
as many as Grant had without.
When Dick beheld this formidable position bristling with cannon, rifles
and bayonets, his heart sank within him. How could one army defeat
another, as numerous as itself, inside powerful intrenchments, and in
its own country? Nor could they prevent Southern reinforcements from
reaching the other side of the river and crossing to the fort under the
shelter of its numerous great guns. He was yet to learn the truth,
or at least the partial truth, of Napoleon's famous saying, that in war
an army is nothing, a man is everything. The army to which he belonged
was led by a man of clear vision and undaunted resolution. The chief
commander inside the fort had neither, and his men were shaken already
by the news of Fort Henry, exaggerated in the telling.
But after the first sinking of the heart Dick felt an extraordinary
thrill. Sensitive and imaginative, he was conscious even at the moment
that he looked in the face of mighty events. The things of the minute
did not always appeal to him with the greatest force. He had, instead,
the foreseeing mind, and the meaning of that vast panorama of fortress,
hills, river and forest did not escape him.
"Well, Dick, what do you think of it?" asked Pennington.
"We've got our work cut out for us, and if I didn't know General Grant
I'd say that we're engaged in a mighty rash undertaking.
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