It showed every curve of the Tennessee, the winding
lines of the three creeks, Owl, Lick, and Snake, and the hills and
marshes.
The last detail of the plan was agreed upon finally, and they made it
very simple, lest their brigades and regiments should lose touch and
become confused in the great forest. They were to attack continually
by the right, press the Union army toward the right always, in order to
rush in and separate it from Pittsburg Landing on the Tennessee, and
from the fleet and its stores. Then they meant to drive it into the
marshes enclosed by the river and Snake Creek and destroy it.
The six generals rose, leaving the little fire to sputter out. General
Johnston was very grave, and so were all the others as they started
toward their divisions, except Beauregard, who said in sanguine tones:
"Gentlemen, we shall sleep tomorrow night in the enemy's camp."
Word, in the mysterious ways of war, had slid through the camp that the
generals were in council, and many soldiers, driven by overwhelming
curiosity, had crept through the underbrush to watch the figures by the
fire in the ravine. They could not hear, they did not seek to hear,
but they were held by a sort of spell. When they saw them separate,
every one moving toward his own headquarters, they knew that there was
nothing to await now but the dawn, and they stole back toward their own
headquarters.
Dick had gone with Colonel Kenton to his own regiment, in the very heart
of the Orphan Brigade, and on his way his uncle said:
"Dick, you will sleep among my own lads, and I ask you for your own sake
to make no attempt to escape tonight.
Pages:
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297