Philip Dru: Administrator Part 10

There was a curious feeling of exultation and confidence throughout the insurgent army, for Dru had conducted every move in the great game with masterly skill, and no man was ever more the idol of his troops, or of the people whose cause he was the champion.

It was told at every camp fire in his army how he had won the last medal that had been given by the War Department and for which General Newton had been a contestant, and not one of his men doubted that as a military genius, Newton in no way measured up to Dru. It was plain that Newton had been outmaneuvered and that the advantage lay with the insurgent forces.

The day before the expected battle, General Dru issued a stirring address, which was placed in the hands of each soldier, and which concluded as follows:--"It is now certain that there will be but one battle, and its result lies with you. If you fight as I know you will fight, you surely will be successful, and you soon will be able to return to your homes and to your families, carrying with you the a.s.surance that you have won what will be perhaps the most important victory that has ever been achieved. It is my belief that human liberty has never more surely hung upon the outcome of any conflict than it does upon this, and I have faith that when you are once ordered to advance, you will never turn back. If you will each make a resolution to conquer or die, you will not only conquer, but our death list will not be nearly so heavy as if you at any time falter."

This address was received with enthusiasm, and comrade declared to comrade that there would be no turning back when once called upon to advance, and it was a compact that in honor could not be broken. This, then, was the situation upon the eve of the mighty conflict.

CHAPTER XXII

THE BATTLE OF ELMA

General Dru had many spies in the enemies' camp, and some of these succeeded in crossing the lines each night in order to give him what information they had been able to gather.

Some of these spies pa.s.sed through the lines as late as eleven o'clock the night before the battle, and from them he learned that a general attack was to be made upon him the next day at six o'clock in the morning.

As far as he could gather, and from his own knowledge of the situation, it was General Newton's purpose to break his center. The reason Newton had this in mind was that he thought Dru's line was far flung, and he believed that if he could drive through the center, he could then throw each wing into confusion and bring about a crus.h.i.+ng defeat.

As a matter of fact, Dru's line was not far flung, but he had a few troops strung out for many miles in order to deceive Newton, because he wanted him to try and break his center.

Up to this time, he had taken no one into his confidence, but at midnight, he called his division commanders to his headquarters and told them his plan of battle.

They were instructed not to impart any information to the commanders of brigades until two o'clock. The men were then to be aroused and given a hasty breakfast, after which they were to be ready to march by three o'clock.

Recent arrivals had augmented his army to approximately five hundred thousand men. General Newton had, as far as he could learn, approximately six hundred thousand, so there were more than a million of men facing one another.

Dru had a two-fold purpose in preparing at three in the morning. First, he wanted to take no chances upon General Newton's time of attack. His information as to six o'clock he thought reliable, but it might have been given out to deceive him and a much earlier engagement might be contemplated.

His other reason was that he intended to flank Newton on both wings.

It was his purpose to send, under cover of night, one hundred and twenty-five thousand men to the right of Newton and one hundred and twenty-five thousand to his left, and have them conceal themselves behind wooded hills until noon, and then to drive in on him from both sides.

He was confident that with two hundred and fifty thousand determined men, protected by the fortifications he had been able to erect, and with the ground of his own choosing, which had a considerable elevation over the valley through which Newton would have to march, he could hold his position until noon. He did not count upon actual fighting before eight o'clock, or perhaps not before nine.

Dru did not attempt to rest, but continued through the night to instruct his staff officers, and to arrange, as far as he could, for each contingency. Before two o'clock, he was satisfied with the situation and felt a.s.sured of victory.

He was pleased to see the early morning hours develop a fog, for this would cover the march of his left and right wings, and they would not have to make so wide a detour in order that their movements might be concealed. It would also delay, he thought, Newton's attack.

His army was up and alert at three, and by four o'clock those that were to hold the center were in position, though he had them lie down again on their arms, so that they might get every moment of rest. Three o'clock saw the troops that were to flank the enemy already on the march.

At six-thirty his outposts reported Newton's army moving, but it was nine o'clock before they came within touch of his troops.

In the meantime, his men were resting, and he had food served them again as late as seven o'clock.

Newton attacked the center viciously at first, but making no headway and seeing that his men were being terribly decimated, he made a detour to the right, and, with cavalry, infantry and artillery, he drove Dru's troops in from the position which they were holding.

Dru recognized the threatened danger and sent heliograph messages to his right and left wings to begin their attack, though it was now only eleven o'clock. He then rode in person to the point of danger, and rallied his men to a firmer stand, upon which Newton could make no headway.

In that h.e.l.l storm of lead and steel Dru sat upon his horse unmoved.

With bared head and eyes aflame, with face flushed and exultant, he looked the embodiment of the terrible G.o.d of War. His presence and his disregard of danger incited his soldiers to deeds of valor that would forever be an "inspiration and a benediction" to the race from which they sprung.

Newton, seeing that his efforts were costing him too dearly, decided to withdraw his troops and rest until the next day, when he thought to attack Dru from the rear.

The ground was more advantageous there, and he felt confident he could dislodge him. When he gave the command to retreat, he was surprised to find Dru ma.s.sing his troops outside his entrenchments and preparing to follow him. He slowly retreated and Dru as slowly followed. Newton wanted to get him well away from his stronghold and in the open plain, and then wheel and crush him. Dru was merely keeping within striking distance, so that when his two divisions got in touch with Newton they would be able to attack him on three sides.

Just as Newton was about to turn, Dru's two divisions poured down the slopes of the hills on both sides and began to charge. And when Dru's center began to charge, it was only a matter of moments before Newton's army was in a panic.

He tried to rally them and to face the on-coming enemy, but his efforts were in vain. His men threw down their guns, some surrendering, but most of them fleeing in the only way open, that towards the rear and the Lake.

Dru's soldiers saw that victory was theirs, and, maddened by the l.u.s.t of war, they drove the Government forces back, killing and crus.h.i.+ng the seething and helpless ma.s.s that was now in hopeless confusion.

Orders were given by General Dru to push on and follow the enemy until nightfall, or until the Lake was reached, where they must surrender or drown.

By six o'clock of that fateful day, the splendid army of Newton was a thing for pity, for Dru had determined to exhaust the last drop of strength of his men to make the victory complete, and the battle conclusive.

At the same time, as far as he was able, he restrained his men from killing, for he saw that the enemy were without arms, and thinking only of escape. His order was only partially obeyed, for when man is in conflict with either beast or fellowman, the primitive l.u.s.t for blood comes to the fore, and the gentlest and most humane are oftentimes the most bloodthirsty.

Of the enemy forty thousand were dead and two hundred and ten thousand were wounded with seventy-five thousand missing. Of prisoners Dru had captured three hundred and seventy-five thousand.

General Newton was killed in the early afternoon, soon after the rout began.

Philip's casualties were twenty-three thousand dead and one hundred and ten thousand wounded.

It was a holocaust, but the war was indeed ended.

CHAPTER XXIII

ELMA'S AFTERMATH

After General Dru had given orders for the care of the wounded and the disposition of the prisoners, he dismissed his staff and went quietly out into the starlight. He walked among the dead and wounded and saw that everything possible was being done to alleviate suffering. Feeling weary he sat for a moment upon a dismembered gun.

As he looked over the field of carnage and saw what havoc the day had made, he thought of the Selwyns and the Thors, whose selfishness and greed were responsible for it all, and he knew that they and their kind would have to meet an awful charge before the judgment seat of G.o.d.

Within touch of him lay a boy of not more than seventeen, with his white face turned towards the stars. One arm was shattered and a piece of sh.e.l.l had torn a great red wound in the side of his chest. Dru thought him dead, but he saw him move and open his eyes. He removed a coat from a soldier that lay dead beside him and pillowed the boy's head upon it, and gave him some water and a little brandy.

"I am all in, Captain," said he, "but I would like a message sent home."

He saw that Dru was an officer but he had no idea who he was. "I only enlisted last week. I live in Pennsylvania--not far from here." Then more faintly--"My mother tried to persuade me to remain at home, but I wanted to do my share, so here I am--as you find me. Tell her--tell her," but the message never came--for he was dead.

After he had covered the pain-racked, ghastly face, Dru sat in silent meditation, and thought of the shame of it, the pity of it all.

Somewhere amongst that human wreckage he knew Gloria was doing what she could to comfort the wounded and those that were in the agony of death.

She had joined the Red Cross Corps of the insurgent army at the beginning of hostilities, but Dru had had only occasional glimpses of her. He was wondering now, in what part of that black and b.l.o.o.d.y field she was. His was the strong hand that had torn into fragments these helpless creatures; hers was the gentle hand that was softening the horror, the misery of it all. Dru knew there were those who felt that the result would never be worth the cost and that he, too, would come in for a measurable share of their censure. But deep and lasting as his sympathy was for those who had been brought into this maelstrom of war, yet, pessimism found no lodgment within him, rather was his great soul illuminated with the thought that with splendid heroism they had died in order that others might live the better. Twice before had the great republic been baptized in blood and each time the result had changed the thought and destiny of man. And so would it be now, only to greater purpose. Never again would the Selwyns and the Thors be able to fetter the people.

Free and unrestrained by barriers erected by the powerful, for selfish purposes, there would now lie open to them a glorious and contented future. He had it in his thoughts to do the work well now that it had been begun, and to permit no misplaced sentiment to deter him. He knew that in order to do what he had in mind, he would have to reckon with the habits and traditions of centuries, but, seeing clearly the task before him he must needs become an iconoclast and accept the consequences. For two days and nights he had been without sleep and under a physical and mental strain that would have meant disaster to any, save Philip Dru. But now he began to feel the need of rest and sleep, so he walked slowly back to his tent.