 | The Writings of Bret Harte |  |
BANKS AND THE SLAVE GIRL
[_]
[General N. P. Banks, Major-General of Volunteers, Union Army, commanded at the battle of Cedar Mountain, August 9, 1862.]
Through shot and shell, one summer's day,
We stood the battle's rack,
With gaping files and shattered ranks
Our men were falling back;
When through our lines, a little child
Ran down the bloody track.
We stood the battle's rack,
With gaping files and shattered ranks
Our men were falling back;
When through our lines, a little child
Ran down the bloody track.
To know if she were bond or free
We had no time to spare,
Or scan with microscopic eye
The texture of her hair;
For lo, begrimed with battle smoke,
Our men looked scarce as fair.
We had no time to spare,
Or scan with microscopic eye
The texture of her hair;
For lo, begrimed with battle smoke,
Our men looked scarce as fair.
349
Her name, her home, her master's claim,
We could not then decide,
Until our Iron Chief rode up
Ere we could cheer or chide,
And pointing to a howitzer,
He grimly bade her “ride.”
We could not then decide,
Until our Iron Chief rode up
Ere we could cheer or chide,
And pointing to a howitzer,
He grimly bade her “ride.”
First glancing down that ghastly lane,
Where dead and dying lay,
Then back at us, and like a flash,
We saw his glances say:
“The child is free. Their batteries
Have opened her the way!”
Where dead and dying lay,
Then back at us, and like a flash,
We saw his glances say:
“The child is free. Their batteries
Have opened her the way!”
Perhaps they had—I said before
We could not then decide;
For we were sorely pressed that day,
And driven back beside,
And mayhap in our chieftain's act,
Some moral then we spied.
We could not then decide;
For we were sorely pressed that day,
And driven back beside,
And mayhap in our chieftain's act,
Some moral then we spied.
| The Writings of Bret Harte | |