71. A Rainy Night
By REVEREND GEORGE HUGHES HEPWORTH (1863)
The Romance of the Civil War | ||
71. A Rainy Night
By REVEREND GEORGE HUGHES HEPWORTH (1863)
THAT night, our advance encamped within six miles of the enemy's works. I accepted the kind invitation of Colonel Bullock, of the Thirtieth, to share his tent, and slept as comfortably on the dry grass and dead leaves as though I had had a bed of down. A hard ride of six or eight hours naturally inclined me to hunger and sleep. I relished a pile of crackers and cheese more than Vitellius ever did his dainty dish of birds' tongues, and was soon afterwards on my back, giving good evidence of my condition.
I slept soundly until about half-past ten; when a faint, booming sound awoke me. It occurred at regular intervals of about a minute ; and, as soon as I gathered my scattered senses, I knew that the gunboats were hard at work. I lay quietly for some time, awed by the solemnity of the occasion; for it was then pitch dark, and the dull, heavy sound was freighted with success or defeat; and, on opening my eyes again, I could distinctly trace the course of the shell through the air by the light of the fuses. I watched them until about two o'clock, when I ordered my horse, and set out for headquarters. It was so dark that I could not keep the road, and so trusted to the instincts of my noble beast. It was a lonely ride,— five miles through dense woods, the silence only broken by the gruff " Who goes there ? "of the guard, and the ominous clicking of the hammer as he cocked his gun.
I had just reached headquarters when the welcome news came that a part of the fleet had succeeded in
THE ENCAMPMENT AT NIGHT.
[Description: Men standing around fires and horses and cooking]I have never witnessed a scene so magnificent as that which closed the career of this war-ship. One moment, the flames would die away, and then the black darkness of the night seemed heavier than ever; in another minute, the flames would curl up again above the tree-tops, and tinge the cloud-edges with a lurid light. At length came the catastrophe. I thought the fire had gone out; and was just turning away, when fold After fold of cloudy flame, driven with terrific force, rose higher and higher, until the
That night, fortune did not favor me. I had escorted Colonel Clarke, who had been wounded, beyond our lines, on the Baton-Rouge road; and, a second time, accepted the hospitality of Colonel Bullock. I was quietly and with great zest gnawing a beef-bone, wondering at the novelty of a soldier's life, when I was surprised out of my dream by the patter of rain. I was fully prepared for fine weather; but rain I had not reckoned upon. The ground was so low and marshy, that, in the course of the first half hour, there were at least three inches of water on it. I perched myself on a bread-box, however, and crossed my legs, feeling that delightful indifference to all fortune, which is the charm and necessity of a soldier's life. My bone and my hunger were enough to occupy all my thoughts. My inner man, astonished at the utter neglect of the last eighteen hours, was determined that I should concentrate my attention upon one thing only. That luscious beef-bone, which, only a few hours before, had been trotting about gayly in those very woods, seemed to me the richest luxury in the world.
When I had satisfied my hunger, I began to recognize
I was surprised at the uniform cheerfulness of the men under these trying circumstances. They had no covering except their rubber-blankets, which they stretched out—a very poor roof— upon four upright stakes. They were, most of them, drenched to the skin. Yet around the camp-fires were heard only mirth and wildest hilarity. Once in a while, I came across some poor unfortunate, who had dropped his blanket in the mud, and down whose back the rain was trickling mercilessly; and who seemed to have arrived at the sage conclusion, that a soldier's life is not always gay, as generally represented, and that camp-life and camp-meeting are two very different things. But even he soon gathered his muddy clothes about him; and, crawling alongside the bright fire, got into a better humor with himself and the fortunes of war.
71. A Rainy Night
By REVEREND GEORGE HUGHES HEPWORTH (1863)
The Romance of the Civil War | ||