The Smoke at Dawn: A Novel of the Civil War (55 page)

Cleburne said, “Bragg has to be admiring this just like we are. There’s opportunity here.”

“Sir? Not sure—”

“Clear skies, full moon. Captain, send another courier down toward General Walker’s camp. If Bragg sent orders up this way, his aide might have been waylaid by a good bottle of spirits. Might be lost in the woods, for all I know. Walker would know if anyone’s out here trying to find me.”

“Sir, we have two couriers at General Walker’s camp right now. They know to ride quick if there’s cause.”

Cleburne clenched his fists, rubbed a hand down his face. “There’s a fine cause, Captain. We should be using this marvelous moonlight to pull this army off this ridge.” He walked to the crest of the hill, stopped just shy, the flashes from a single artillery shell coming down right across from him.

“Damn nuisance, that. Keep your head down, Captain.”

Down to one side, he could see the silhouettes of men working, lit
by the glow from the moon. Another shell impacted, down to the left, farther down the face of the hill, a man’s cry piercing the air. Cleburne clapped his hands together, a gesture of utter frustration. “This is complete insanity. I’m not waiting any longer.”

He moved up onto the ridge, stared out at Billy Goat Hill, the vast sea of campfires that Mangum had mentioned. He saw an officer approaching, knew it was Smith, who said, “Sir! Best keep back of the ridgeline!”

“I know where I’m supposed to be, General. I’m riding down to General Polk’s position and ordering the artillery pulled away across the creek. If Sherman’s going to have a picnic against us tomorrow, at least we can protect some of the guns.”

“Sir, what of the batteries here? Except for the face of the hill, we’ve positioned them in good—”

“Yes, yes. Fine. You shall keep your batteries in place along this hill until I order otherwise. But prepare them for movement. Captain Buck?”

Buck hurried toward him, ducking low, another blast coming down below the ridge. “Sir?”

“I cannot rely on the skills of some courier. You will ride to General Bragg’s headquarters and seek a direct response. I must know what is happening, what determination has been made for the disposition of this army. If General Bragg has decided that we should fight on this ground, I must know that so we may place the artillery accordingly. But if we are to retreat, I will not sacrifice my guns, nor my men in useless delays. Go now!”

Buck did not hesitate, ran quickly down the backside of the ridge. Cleburne listened for the hoofbeats of Buck’s horse, had a sudden thought. Maybe they’ve gone already. Maybe Bragg’s pulled them off this hill, and just left us up here. Like … he forgot. That damned paper I signed. This is how he will punish me.

Cleburne moved out to the edge of the hill, smelled the stinking odor of sulfur from the Yankee shells, watched a red streak arcing toward him from the base of the far hill, falling toward the face of the hill below him. He ignored that, felt a tug on his arm, Smith.

“Sir, you must withdraw.”

Cleburne pulled his arm from the man’s grasp, stared at the distant
fires, then down into the dark abyss below him, the thickets not yet lit by the moon. If we are to be sacrificed, he thought, there will be a very good reason for it. If General Bragg is consumed by the defeat we suffered on Lookout Mountain, so be it. If it is my calling to fight this war alone, then I will obey. But Bragg cannot be allowed to forget that this army has
two
flanks.

He had grown furious waiting for Buck to return.

The shelling had continued, still along the face of the larger hill, and Cleburne had taken Smith’s advice, left the horse behind, keeping himself out of sight of any Yankee observer. He walked with angry steps, cursed Buck’s tardiness, his boots thumping hard into soft ground. He passed behind the newly dug entrenchments, one piece of satisfaction, that most of that work was now completed. All around him, exhausted men were reclining on the bare ground, a few of them with the remnants of thin blankets, fewer still with anything to eat. He had already spoken with each of the brigade commanders, giving special attention to Polk, the farthest away. Cleburne still expected the order to retreat, but Buck had been gone far longer than it would require a man to make that ride, and Cleburne wondered if there was confusion at Bragg’s headquarters, if Bragg was even to be found. Cleburne fumed to himself, kept the aides away, would not risk some indiscreet insult to Irving Buck. This is not his fault, he thought, not at all. He could be dead, for God’s sake.

He halted his march, stared ahead. Stop that nonsense. If Buck is delayed, there is a reason. He would not do what Bragg is doing, and simply leave me out here … in the dark. He glanced up, eyed the moon, now straight overhead, so bright that the stars were wiped away. It is a perfect opportunity, he thought. How can Bragg just leave these men with no word, no instructions as to what is expected of us?

He turned, walked over to the backside of Tunnel Hill, heard soft voices, men huddled together in their fresh earthworks, shielded from the stiff breeze. The artillery thumped against the far side of the hill, the blasts muffled by the ground. He wanted to climb up once
more, to stare at the fires around Billy Goat Hill. But there were hoofbeats now, and he turned abruptly toward the trail leading south. The horseman climbed the rise, dismounted, headed straight for Cleburne. It was Buck.

“Sir! I rode as quickly as I could!”

“It’s been three hours! Is your horse lame, Captain?”

Cleburne pulled at his anger, scolded himself silently. Buck stood straight, said, “Sir, I have orders from General Hardee. The general wishes me to tell you directly, sir, that we shall fight on this ground. It is certain that this position will be heavily attacked, and we must be prepared.”

Cleburne stared at Buck’s face, hidden by the shadow of his hat. “Those words came from General Hardee directly?”

“Yes, sir.”

Cleburne put his hands on his hips, let out a long breath, saw his aides moving closer, responding to Buck’s message. Cleburne turned to them, said, “Go now to General Polk. Instruct him to recall his artillery, and any of the other batteries I ordered to safety. Instruct the brigade commanders to meet with me here. We must place the guns where they can be most useful. If General Bragg will not make the best use of this moonlight, I shall use it to whatever advantage we have. We shall complete the fortifications any way possible, using such time and the moonlight as we now have.”

The men moved away, each one knowing the commander he would seek. Cleburne turned again to Buck, who seemed to anticipate the question, and Buck said, “Sir, my apologies for such delay. It was not a pleasant situation, sir. I was made to remain outside of General Bragg’s headquarters while he and General Breckinridge and General Hardee argued about this very decision. I did not intend to overhear that which was improper.…”

“What did they say?”

Buck lowered his voice. “General Bragg was insistent that this army, as presently situated, holds ground that no force on God’s earth can overrun. There was some agreement with that from General Breckinridge. General Breckinridge was mighty upset about the defeat on Lookout Mountain. He insists we must have our revenge, sir.”

“He would have us fight for … revenge? What did Hardee say?”

“General Hardee insisted in the most vigorous terms, sir, that this army should withdraw. But his view was not subscribed to.”

Cleburne absorbed that, thought, He wrote the book on this subject. Perhaps the others should take the time to read it. Buck leaned in closer, said, “Sir, General Hardee was granted permission to march additional troops to our assistance. General Stevenson’s division, specifically. They should be moving this way even now.”

“Stevenson? Did Stevenson not suffer mightily today on Lookout Mountain?”

“I wouldn’t know about that, sir. But General Hardee is sending him up to support our left.”

The questions burst through Cleburne’s mind. How did Stevenson withdraw his entire force from Lookout Mountain? Was his defeat so profoundly complete that he ordered a full retreat? Is no one holding a line on those heights at all? How many men is he marching … here? He knew Buck wouldn’t have the answers to any of that, thought, It’s likely that even Stevenson doesn’t know his casualty counts, his effective strength. But he will obey, and he will march what remains of his division this way. Thank you, General Hardee.

He heard horses approaching quickly up the trail, looked out past Buck, saw a cluster of riders, a familiar silhouette, and Buck said, “Hooee, sir. That’s—”

“General Hardee.”

It was just past midnight, no one on either side settling in for any sleep. The shelling from Sherman’s guns continued, nearly all of it still aimed at the western face of Tunnel Hill, keeping Cleburne’s men there down in their holes. The two commanders rode out along the spur, kept their horses back off the crest, moving slowly past Cleburne’s earthworks, which now extended more than a mile. Hardee had kept his staff at a distance behind them, as much for safety as for the privacy of his words with Cleburne. In the moonlight, both men understood that a careful lookout might still spot a gathering of horsemen, that a single artillery shell might do more damage to this end of the line than even Bragg would prefer.

“He’s dangerous to himself. I believe that. Worse, he’s dangerous to this army.”

Cleburne felt a sickening dismay at Hardee’s words, said, “I had hoped we would be made dangerous to the enemy.”

“We are. If Bragg will allow us to manage this fight the way we ought to. He insists we can maintain our hold on this ridgeline with little more than a regiment of skirmishers. I rather believe he enjoys saying that. And so, he has convinced himself it is true.”

“You know it isn’t.”

“Of course it isn’t. It’s utter foolishness. Bravado for the benefit of Richmond newspapers. Breckinridge supports him for the same reason. If his name is to be shouted about, let it be for his bravery, not for retreat.”

“We shall give them a good thumping here, sir.”

“I know. I’ve seen your dispositions. Your placement of artillery is good, most effective positioning.”

Cleburne said nothing, wouldn’t tell Hardee he had nearly ordered most of the big guns to begin their retreat across the creek, without knowing for certain that order would ever come.

The rumble from Sherman’s cannon thumped mostly behind them, out against the face of the hill, and Cleburne turned, said, “Makes it a mite difficult to place a battery at the tunnel. Ought to have at least something heavy above the tunnel itself. Nuisance, those Yankee gunners.”

Hardee stopped the horse, stared upward, and Cleburne pulled on the reins, heard Hardee say, “I’ll be damned. Never seen one so clearly.”

Cleburne looked upward, saw the arcing shadow cutting across the face of the moon, realized the light had dimmed all around them. To both sides, the men were up from their earthworks, calling out, a hum of excitement through the lines. Hardee said, “It’s gonna be full, complete. Just look at that. You ever see an eclipse?”

Cleburne stared up, could see the slight shift in the shadow, the face of the moon blanketed ever so slowly. “It’s gonna cover up the whole thing?”

Hardee chuckled. “Looks like it.”

He was smiling at Cleburne now, wouldn’t embarrass the man,
and Cleburne watched the spectacle, more of his men calling out, pointing upward. He looked back toward the sudden silence now, said, “The guns … Sherman’s stopped shelling us.”

Hardee was still chuckling. “For now. Might be a good time to move your battery into position at the tunnel. This won’t last too very long. The shadow will slip off the other way, just like it never happened.”

Cleburne felt an uneasiness, a memory of very long ago, a small boy, a priest, angry warnings to the townspeople. He stared up, his eyes fixed, said, “I heard it was a sign … bad things to come. God’s warning.”

Hardee seemed surprised. “Some believe that. I believe it’s an eclipse of the moon. The earth getting in between the sun and the moon. A shadow. Amazing sight, that’s all.”

Cleburne kept his eyes skyward, heard nervous talk around him, some of the men standing in the open, watching the event with awe, nervous chatter, and one man, close by, quiet urgency in the man’s voice, soft words Cleburne could barely hear. He was praying.