The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High TideAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High Tide
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Juvenile fiction
The next day Burnside sent in a flag of truce, and they buried the dead.
The following night Harry, wrapped to the eyes in his great cloak,
stood upon Prospect Hill and watched one of the fiercest storms that he
had ever seen rage up and down the valley of the Rappahannock. Many of
the Southern pickets were driven to shelter. While the whole Southern
army sought protection from the deluge, the Army of the Potomac, still a
hundred thousand strong, and carrying all its guns, marched in perfect
order over the six bridges it had built, breaking the bridges down
behind it, and camping in safety on the other side. The river was
rising fast under the tremendous rain, and the Southern army could find
no fords, even though it marched far up the stream.
Fredericksburg was won, but the two armies, resolute and defiant,
gathered themselves anew for other battles as great or greater.
CHAPTER VI
A CHRISTMAS DINNER
After the great battle at Fredericksburg both armies seemed to suffer
somewhat from reaction. Besides, the winter deepened. There was more
snow, more icy rain, and more hovering of the temperature near the zero
mark. The vast sea of mud increased, and the swollen Rappahannock,
deep at any time, flowed between the two armies. Pickets often faced
one another across the stream, sometimes firing, but oftener exchanging
the news, when the river was not too wide for the shouted voice to reach.
Harry, despite his belief that the North would hold out, heard now that
the hostile section had sunk into deep depression. The troops had not
been paid for six months. Desertion into the interior went on on a
great scale. One commander-in-chief after another had failed. After
Antietam it had seemed that success could be won, but the South had come
back stronger than ever and had won Fredericksburg, inflicting appalling
loss upon the North. Yet he heard that Lincoln never flinched. The
tall, gaunt, ugly man, telling his homely jokes, had more courage than
anybody who had yet led the Union cause.
Harry often went down to Fredericksburg, where some houses still stood
among the icy ruins. A few families had returned, but as the town was
still practically under the guns of the Northern army, it was left
chiefly to the troops.
The Invincibles were stationed here, and Harry and Dalton got leave to
spend Christmas day with its officers. Nothing could bring more fully
home to him the appalling waste and ruin of war than the sight of
Fredericksburg. Mud, ice and snow were deeper than ever in the streets.
Many of the houses had been demolished by cannon balls and fire, and
only fragments of them lay about the ground. Others had been wrecked
but partially, with holes in the roofs and the windows shot out.
The white pillars in front of colonnaded mansions had been shattered and
the fallen columns lay in the icy slough. Long icicles hung from the
burned portions of upper floors that still stood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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