University of Virginia Library

6. PART VI
UNDER FIRE

74. A Private in Battle
By CARLTON MCCARTHY (1861)

THE column, hitherto moving forward with the steadiness of a mighty river, hesitates, halts, steps back then forward, hesitates again, halts. The colonels talk to the brigadier, the brigadiers talk to the major-general, some officers hurry forward and others hurry to the rear. Infantry stands to one side of the road, while cavalry trots by to the front. Now some old wagons marked "Ord. Dept."go creaking and rumbling by. One or two light ambulances, with a gay and careless air, seem to trip along with the ease of a dancing girl. They and the surgeons seem cheerful. Some, not many, ask, "What is the matter? "Most of the men there know exactly: they are on the edge of battle.

Presently a very quiet almost sleepy looking man on horseback, says, "Forward, 19th!"and away goes the leading regiment. A little way ahead the regiment jumps a fence, and— pop ! bang! whis! thud ! is all that can be heard until the rebel yell reverberates through the woods. Battle? No! skirmishers advancing.

[_]

Ordinance Department.


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Step into the woods now, and watch these skirmishers. See how cheerfully they go in. How rapidly they load, fire and reload. They stand six and twelve feet apart, calling to each other, laughing, shouting, cheering, but advancing. There : one fellow has dropped his musket like something red hot. His finger is shot away. His friends congratulate him, and he walks sadly away to the rear. Another staggers and falls, with a ball through his neck, mortally wounded. Two comrades raise him to his feet and try to lead him away, but one of them receives a ball in his thigh, which crushes the bone, and he falls groaning to the ground. They have at last driven the enemy's skirmishers in upon the line of battle, and are waiting. A score of men have fallen here, some killed outright, some slightly., some sorely, some mortally wounded.

Now a battery has been hurried into position, the heavy trails have fallen to the ground, and at the command "Commence firing! "the cannoneers have stepped in briskly and loaded. The first gun blazes at the muzzle, and away goes a shell. The poor fellows in the woods rejoice as it crashes through the trees over their heads, and cheer when it explodes over the enemy's line.

But help is coming. At the edge of the woods, where the skirmishers entered, the brigade is in line. Somebody has ordered, "Load! "

The ramrods glisten and rattle down the barrels of a thousand muskets. "Forward!"is the next command, and the brigade disappears in the woods, the canteens rattling, the bushes crackling, and the officers never ceasing to say, "Close tip, men ; close up ! guide centre! "


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The men on that skirmish line have at last found it advisable to lie down at full length on the ground, t hough it is so wet, and place their heads against the trees in front. They cannot advance and they cannot retire without, in either case, exposing themselves to almost certain death. They are waiting for the line of battle to come to their relief.

At last, before they see, they hear the line advancing through the pines. The snapping of the twigs, the neighing of horses, and hoarse commands, inspire a husky cheer, and when the line of the old brigade breaks through the trees in full view, they fairly yell! Every man jumps to his feet, the brigade presses firmly forward, and soon the roll of musketry tells all who are waiting to hear that serious work is progressing away down in the woods. Brigade after brigade and division after division is hurried into line, and pressed forward into action. Battalions of artillery open fire from the crests of many hills, and the battle is begun.

Ammunition trains climb impassable places, cross ditches without bridges and manage somehow to place themselves in reach of the troops. Ambulances, which an hour before went gayly forward, now slowly and solemnly returned loaded. Shells and musket balls, which must have lost their way, go flitting about here and there, wounding and killing men who deem themselves far away from danger. The negro cooks turn pale as these unexpected visitors enter the camps at the rear, and the rear is extended at once.

At the front, a battery of the enemy is replying and shells are bursting overhead, or ploughing huge furrows in the ground. Musket balls are rapping on


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the rims of the wheels and sinking with a deep thud into the bodies of the poor horses. Smoke obscures the scene, but the cannoneers in faint outline can be seen cheerfully serving the guns.

As the opposing battery ceases firing, and having limbered up, scampers away, and the last of the enemy's infantry slowly sinks into the woods out of sight and out of reach, a wild cheer breaks from the cannoneers, who toss their caps in the air and shout, shake hands and shout again, while the curtain of smoke is raised by the breeze and borne away.

The cavalry is gone. With jingle and clatter they have passed through the lines and down the hill and are already demanding surrender from many a belated man. There will be no rest for that retreating column. Stuart, with a twinkle in his eye, his lips puckered as if to whistle a merry lay, is on their flanks, in their rear, and in their front. The enemy will send their cavalry after him, of course, but he will stay with them, nevertheless.

Add now the streams of wounded men slowly making their way to the rear; the groups of dejected prisoners plodding along under guard, and you have about as much of a battle as one private soldier ever sees.

75. The Cavalry Charge
By EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN (1864)

OUR good steeds snuff the evening air,
Our pulses with their purpose tingle;
The foeman's fires are twinkling there;
He leaps to hear our sabres jingle!

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Halt!
Each carbine sent its whizzing ball:
Now, cling! clang! Forward, all,
Into the fight!
Dash on beneath the smoking dome:
Through level lightnings gallop nearer!
One look to Heaven! No thoughts of home;
The guidons that we bear are dearer.
Charge!
Cling! clang! Forward, all!
Heaven help those whose horses fall-
Cut left and right !
They flee before our fierce attack!
They fall! they spread in broken surges.
Now, comrades, bear our wounded back,
And leave the foeman to his dirges.
Wheel!
The bugles sound the swift recall:
Cling! clang! Backward, all!
Home, and good-night!

76. Battle of Bull Run
By EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN (1861)

By the time I reached the top of the hill, the retreat, the panic, the hideous headlong confusion, were now beyond a hope. I was near the rear of the movement, with the brave Captain Alexander, who endeavored by the most gallant but unavailable exertions to check the onward tumult. It was difficult to


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[_]

The rout at Bull Run, July, 1861, was due to tile lack of time for drill and organization; on the whole it was a good thing for the North, for it compelled the country to face the necessity of large and good armies.

believe in the reality of our sudden reverse. "What does it all mean?"I asked Alexander. "It means defeat,"was his reply. "We are beaten ; it is a shameful, a cowardly retreat! Hold up, men!"he shouted, "don't be such infernal cowards!"and he rode backwards and forwards, placing his horse across the road and vainly trying to rally the running troops. The teams and wagons confused and dismembered every corps. We were now cut off from the advance body by the enemy's infantry, who had rushed on the slope just left by us, surrounded the guns and sutlers's wagons, and were apparently pressing up against us. "It's no use, Alexander,"I said, "you must leave with the rest.""I'll be d—d if I will,"was his sullen reply, and the splendid fellow rode back to make his way as best he could. Meantime I saw officers with leaves and eagles on their shoulder-straps, majors and colonels, who had cl~!serted their commands, pass me galloping as if for dear life. No enemy pursued just then; but I sup. pose all were afraid that his guns would be trained down the long, narrow avenue, and mow the retreating thousands, and batter to pieces army wagons and everything else which crowded it. Only one field officer, so far as my observation extended, seemed to have remembered his duty. Lieut.-Colonel Speidel, a foreigner attached to a Connecticut regiment, strove against the current for a league. I positively declare that, with the two exceptions mentioned, all efforts made to check the panic before Centreville was reached, were confined to civilians. I saw a man in citizen's dress, who had thrown off his coat, seized a musket, and was trying to rally the soldiers who came by at the point of the bayonet. In a reply to

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[_]

E. B. Washburne, later minister to France. Kellogg was a special friend of Lincoln.

a request for his name, he said it was Washburne, and I learned he was the Member by that name from Illinois. The Hon. Mr. Kellogg made a similar effort. Both these Congressmen bravely stood their ground till the last moment, and were serviceable at Centreville in assisting the halt there ultimately made. And other civilians did what they could.

But what a scene! and how terrific the onset of that tumultuous retreat. For three miles, hosts of federal troops-all detached from their regiments, all mingled in one disorderly rout-were fleeing along the road, but mostly through the lots on either side. Army wagons, sutlers' teams, and private carriages, choked the passage, tumbling against each other, amid clouds of dust, and sickening sights and sounds. Hacks, containing unlucky spectators of the late affray, were smashed like glass, and the occupants were lost sight of ha the débris. Horses, flying wildly from the battle-field, many of them in death agony, galloped at random forward, joining in the stampede. Those on foot who could catch them rode them bare-back, as much to save themselves from being run over, as to make quicker time. Wounded men, lying along the banks—the few neither left on the field nor taken to the captured hospitals— appealed with raised hands to those who rode horses, begging to be lifted behind, but few regarded such petitions. Then the artillery, such as was saved, came thundering along, smashing and overpowering everything. The regular cavalry, I record it to their shame, joined in the melée, adding to its terrors, for they rode down footmen without mercy. One of the great guns was overturned and lay amid the ruins of a caisson, as I passed it. I saw an artillery-man running between


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the ponderous fore and after-wheels of his gun-carriage, hanging on with both hands, and vainly striving to jump upon the ordnance. The drivers were spurring the horses ; he could not cling much longer, and a more agonized expression never fixed the features of a drowning man. The carriage bounded from the roughness of a steep hill leading to a creek, he lost his hold, fell, and in an instant the great wheels had crushed the life out of him. Who ever saw such a flight? Could the retreat at Borodino have exceeded it in confusion and tumult? I think not. It did not slack in the least until Centreville was reached. There the sight of the reserve— Miles's Brigade-formed in order on the hill, seemed somewhat to reassure the van. But still the teams and foot soldiers pushed on, passing their own camps and heading swiftly for the distant Potomac, until for ten miles the road over which the grand army had so lately passed southward, gay with unstained banners, and flushed with surety of strength, was covered with the fragments of its retreating forces, shattered and panic-stricken in a single day. From the branch route the trains attached to Hunter's Division had caught the contagion of the flight, and poured into its already swollen current another turbid freshet of confusion and dismay. Who ever saw a more shameful abandonment of munitions gathered at such vast expense? The teamsters, many of them, cut the traces of their horses, and galloped from the wagons. Others threw out their loads to accelerate their flight, and grain, picks, and shovels, and provisions of every kind lay trampled in the dust for leagues. Thousands of muskets strewed the route, and when some of us succeeded in rallying a body of fugitives, and

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forming them in a line across the road, hardly one but had thrown away his arms. If the enemy had brought up his artillery and served it upon the retreating train, or had intercepted our progress with five hundred of his cavalry, he might have captured enough supplies for a week's feast of thanksgiving. As it was, enough was left behind to tell the story of the panic. The rout of the federal army seemed complete.

77. Stonewall Jackson's Way
By JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER (1862)

[_]

For Stonewall Jackson see note to No. 69, above.

[_]

"BlueLight,"i.e., strict Presbyterian. Jackson was a very religious man. General Banks, a Union commander.

COME, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails,
Stir up the camp-fire bright;
No matter if the canteen fails,
We'll make a roaring night.
Here Shenandoah brawls along,
There burly Blue Ridge echoes strong,
To swell the brigade's rousing song
Of "Stonewall Jackson's Way."
We see him now— the old slouched hat
Cocked o'er his eye askew,
The shrewd, dry smile, the speech so pat,
So calm, so blunt, so true.
The "Blue-Light Elder "knows 'em well;
Says he, "That's Banks—he's fond of shell ;
Lord save his soul! we'll give him— "well,
That's "Stonewall Jackson's way,"

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Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off!
Old Blue-Light's going to pray.
Strangle the foot that dares to scoff j
Attention! it's his way.
Appealing from his native sod,
In forma pauperis to God—
"Lay bare thine arm, stretch forth thy rod!
Amen! "That's "Stonewall's way."
He's in the saddle now. Fall in!
Steady! the whole brigade!
Hill's at the ford, cut off—we'll win
His way out, ball and blade!
What matter if our shoes are worn ?
What matter if our feet are torn ?
Quick-step! we're with him before dawn!
That's "Stonewall Jackson's way."
The sun's bright lances rout the mists
Of morning, and by George!
Here's Longstreet struggling in the lists,
Hemmed in an ugly gorge.
Pope and his Yankees, whipped before,
"Bay'nets and grape!"hear Stonewall roar;
"Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby's score!
Is "Stonewall Jackson's way."
Ah! maiden, wait and watch and yearn
For news of Stonewall's band!
Ah! widow, read with eyes that burn
That ring upon thy hand.
Ah! wife, sew on, pray on, hope on!
Thy life shall not be all forlorn.
The foe had better ne'er been born
That gets in "Stonewall's way."

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78. Bridging the Rappahannock
By CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN (1862)

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This episode preceded the terrible battle of Fredericksburg, December, 13, 1862, in Which 1200 Union troops were killed and 9600 wounded.

AT five o'clock on the morning of the 11th of December two signal-guns were fired on the heights of Fredericksburg. Deep and heavy their roar, roll-ing along the valley, echoing from hill to hill, and rousing the sleepers of both armies. We who listened upon the Falmouth hills knew that the crossing was not a surprise, but that the Rebels were ready for battle. And now as the day dawned there came a rattling of musketry along the river. The Rebel pickets opened the fire. The gunners at the batteries we were quick to respond, and sent grape and canister across the stream. The Rebel pickets at the lower bridges soon retired, and the engineers completed their work. But in the town the Mississippians took shelter in the buildings, and poured a deadly fire upon the bridge-builders. Almost every soldier who at-tempted to carry out a plank fell. For a while the attempt was relinquished.

"The bridge must be completed,"said General Burnside.

Once more the brave engineers attempted it. The fog still hung over the river. Those who stood on the northern bank could only see the flashes of the rifles on the other shore. The gunners were obliged to fire at random, but so energetic was their fire that the engineers were able to carry the bridge within eighty or ninety feet of the shore, and then so deadly in turn was the fire of the Rebels that it was murder to send men out with a plank.

General Burnside stood on the piazza of the Phillips


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House, a mile from the pontoons. General Sumner and General Hooker were there. Aids and couriers came and went with messages and orders.

"My bridge is completed, and I am ready to cross,"was Franklin's message at half-past nine.

"You must wait till the upper bridge is completed,"was the reply to Franklin.

Two hours passed. A half-dozen attempts were made to complete the upper bridge without success. Brave men not belonging to the engineers came down to the bank, surveyed the scene, and then volunteering their services, seized planks and boards, ran out upon the bridge, but only to fall before the sharpshooters concealed in the cellars of the houses not ten rods distant. Captain Brainard of the Fiftieth New York, with eleven men, volunteered to finish the nearly completed work. They went out upon the run. Five fell at one volley, and the rest returned. Captain Perkins of the same regiment led another party. He fell with a ghastly wound in his neck. Half of his men were killed or wounded. These were sacrifices of life with nothing gained.

General Burnside had no desire to injure the town, but under the usages of war he had a right to bombard it; for the Rebels had concealed themselves in the houses, making use of them to slaughter his men.

"Bring all your guns to bear upon the city and batter it down,"was the order issued to General Hunt, chief of artillery. There were in all thirty-five batteries, with a total of one hundred and seventy-nine guns, all bearing upon the town. The artillery men received the orders to prepare for action with a hurrah. They had chafed all the morning, and longed for an opportunity to avenge the death of their gallant comrades.


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The hour had come. They sprang to their pieces. The fire ran from the right to the left,—from the heavy twenty-four pounders on the heights of Falmouth to the smaller pieces on the hills where Washington passed his boyhood. The air became thick with the murky clouds. The earth shook beneath

the terrific explosions of the shells, which went howling over the river, crashing into the houses, battering down walls, splintering doors, ripping up floors. Sixty solid shot and shells a minute were thrown, and the bombardment was kept up till nine thousand were fired. No hot shot were used, but the explosions set fire to a block of buildings; which added terrible grandeur to the scene.

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The Rebel army stood upon the heights beyond the town and watched the operations. Lee's Rebel artillery was silent, and the Mississippians. concealed in the houses were alone participants in the contest.

The fog lifted at last and revealed the town. The streets were deserted, but the houses, the churchsteeples, the stores were riddled with shot ; yet no impression had been made on the Mississippians.

Burnside's artillery men could not depress their guns sufficiently to shell them out. A working party went out upon the bridge, but one after another was killed or wounded.

The time had come for a bold movement. It was plain that the Mississippians must be driven out before the bridge could be completed, and that a party must go over in boats, charge up the hill, and rout them from their hiding-places. Who would go? Who attempt the hazardous enterprise? There were brave men standing on the bank by the Lacey House, who had watched the proceedings during the long hours. They were accustomed to hard fighting: they had fought at Fair Oaks, Savage Station, Glendale, Malvern, and Antietam.

"We will go over and clean out the Rebels,"was the cry of the Twentieth Massachusetts.

"You shall have the privilege of doing so,"said General Burnside.

There were not boats enough for all,—not enough for one regiment even. A portion of the Seventh Michigan was selected to go first, while the other regiments stood as a supporting force.

The men run down the winding path to the water's edge, jump into the boats, and push out into the stream. It is a moment of intense anxiety. No one


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knows bow large the force opposing them. The Rebel sharpshooters are watching the movement from their hiding-places. They have a fair view and can pick their men. The men in the boats know it, yet they move steadily onward, steering straight across the stream, without a thought of turning back, though their comrades are falling,—some headlong into the river, others dropping into the boats. The oarsmen pull with rapid strokes. When one falls another takes his place. Two thirds the distance over ,— the boats ground in shoal water. The soldiers wait for no word of command, but with a common impulse, with an ardor which stops not to count the cost, they leap into the water, wade to the shore, and charge up the bank. Some fall to rise no more, but their surviving comrades rush up the slippery ,,lope. A loud hurrah rings out from the soldiers who watch them from the Falmouth shore. Up, up they go, facing death, firing not, intent only to get at the foe and win victory with the bayonet! They smash the windows, batter down doors, driving or capturing the foe.

Loud and hearty the cheers of the regiments upon the other shore. The men of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts would give anything to be there. All the while the cannon are roaring, hurling solid shot and shell into the doomed city.

When the bridge-builders saw the soldiers charge up the hill, they too caught the enthusiasm of the moment, and finished their work. The other regiments of the brigade, before the last planks were laid, rushed down the bank, ran out upon the bridge, dashed up the bank, joined their comrades, and drove the Rebels from the streets nearest the river.


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History furnishes but few records of more daring exploits than this action of the Seventh Michigan. Their work was thorough and complete. In fifteen minutes they cleared the houses in front of them, and took more prisoners than their own party numbered!

But now the Yankees were there, marching through the streets. The houses were battered, torn, and rent. Some were in flames, and a battle was raging through the town.

As soon as the bridge was completed, the other brigades of General Howard's division moved across the river. The Rebel batteries, which till now had kept silence, opened furiously with solid shot and shell, but the troops moved steadily over, and took shelter along the river bank. The Rebels were falling back from street to street, and the men from Michigan and Massachusetts were pressing on.

I stood upon the bank of the river and watched the scene in the deepening twilight. Far up the streets there were bright flashes from the muskets of the Rebels, who fired from cellars, chamber windows, and from sheltered places. Nearer were dark masses of men in blue, who gave quick volleys as they moved steadily on, demolishing doors, crushing in windows, and searching every hiding-place. Cannon were flaming on all the hills, and the whole country was aglow with the camp-fires of the two great armies. The Stafford hills were alive with men,— regiments, brigades, and divisions moving in column from their encampments to cross the river. The sky was without a cloud. The town was lighted by lurid flames. The air was full of hissings,—the sharp cutting sounds of the leaden rain. The great twenty-pounder guns on the heights of Falmouth were roaring the


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while. There were shouts, hurrahs, yells, and groans from the streets. So the fight went on till the Rebels were driven wholly from the town to their intrenchments beyond.

79. A Cavalry Raid
By JOHN ESTEN COOKE (1862)

THE order was given, in ringing voice: "Form fours! draw sabre! charge ! "and now the Confederate people pursued at headlong speed, uttering shouts and yells sufficiently loud to awaken the seven sleepers! The men were evidently exhilarated by the chase, the enemy just keeping near enough to make an occasional shot practicable. A considerable number of the Federal cavalrymen were overtaken and captured, and these proved to belong to the company in which Colonel Fitz Lee had formerly been a lieutenant.

The gay chase continued until we reached the Tottapotamoi, a sluggish stream, dragging its muddy waters slowly between rush-clad banks, beneath drooping trees; and this was crossed by a small rustic bridge. The line of the stream was entirely undefended by works; the enemy's right wing was unprotected. The picket at the bridge had been quickly driven in, and disappeared at a gallop, and on the high ground beyond, Colonel Lee, who had taken the front, encountered the enemy. The force appeared to be about a regiment, and they were drawn up in line of battle in the fields to receive our attack. It came without delay. Placing himself at the head of his horsemen, Colonel Lee swept forward at the


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pas de charge, and with shouts the two lines came together. The shock was heavy, and the enemy stood their ground bravely, meeting the attack with the sabre. Swords clashed, pistols and carbines banged, yells, shouts, cheers resounded ; then the Federal line was seen to give back, and take to headlong flight.

Fitz Lee immediately pressed on and burst into the camp near Old Church, where large supplies of boots, pistols, liquors, and other commodities were found. These were speedily appropriated by the men, and the tents were set on fire amid loud shouts. The spectacle was animating; but a report having got abroad that one of the tents contained powder, the vicinity thereof was evacuated in almost less than no time. We were now at Old Church.

"I think the quicker we move now the better,"I said, with a laugh.

"Right,"was the reply; "tell the column to move on at a trot."

So at a rapid trot the column moved.

The gayest portion of the raid now began. From this moment it was neck or nothing, do or die. We had one chance of escape against ten of capture or destruction.

Everywhere the ride was crowded with incident. The scouting and flanking parties constantly picked up stragglers, and overhauled unsuspecting wagons filled with the most tempting stores. In this manner a wagon, stocked with champagne and every variety of wines, belonging to a General of the Federal army, fell a prey to the thirsty gray-backs. Still they pressed on. Every moment an attack was expected in front or rear.


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The column was now skirting the Pamunkey, and a detachment hurried off to seize and burn two or three transports lying in the river. Soon a dense cloud rose from them, the flames soared up, and the column pushed on. Everywhere were seen the traces of flight—for the alarm of "hornets in the hive" was given. Wagons had turned over, and were abandoned— from others the excellent army stores had been hastily thrown. This writer got a fine red blanket, and an excellent pair of cavalry pantaloons, for which he still owes the United States. Other things lay about in tempting array, but we were approaching Tunstall's, where the column would doubtless make a charge; and to load down a weary horse was injudicious. The advance guard was now in sight of the railroad. There was no question about the affair before us. The column must cut through, whatever force guarded the railroad; to reach the lower Chickahominy the guard here must be overpowered. Now was the time to use the artillery, and every effort was made to hurry it forward.

Turnstall's was now nearly in sight, and that good fellow Captain Frayser, came back and reported one or two companies of infantry at the railroad. Their commander had politely beckoned to him as he reconnoitred, exclaiming in wheedling accents, full of Teutonic blandishment, "Koom yay! "But this cordial invitation was disregarded; Frayser galloped back and reported, and the ringing voice of the leader ordered "Form platoons! draw sabre! charge!"At the word the sabres flashed, a thundering shout arose, and sweeping on in column of platoons, the gray people fell upon their blue adversaries, gobbling them up, almost without a shot. It was here that


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my friend Major Foote got the hideous little wooden pipe he used to smoke afterwards. He had been smoking a meerschaum when the order to charge was given; and in the rush of the horsemen, dropped and lost it. He now wished to smoke, and seeing that the captain of the Federal infantry had just filled his pipe, leaned down from the saddle, and politely requested him to surrender it.

"I want to smoke! "growled the Federal captain.

"So do I,"retorted Major Foote.

"This pipe is my property,"said the captain.

"Oh ! what a mistake! "responded the major politely, as he gently took the small affair and inserted it between his lips. Anything more hideous than the carved head upon it I never saw.

In an hour the column moved again. Meanwhile a little incident had happened which still makes me laugh. There was a lady living some miles off in the enemy's line whom I wished to visit, but I could not obtain the General's consent. "It is certain capture,"he said ; '.'send her a note by some citizen, say Dr. Hunt; he lives near here."This I determined to do, and set off at a gallop through the moonlight for the house, some half a mile distant, looking out for the scouting parties which were probably prowling on our flanks. Reaching the lonely house, outside the pickets, I dismounted, knocked at the front door, then the back, but received no answer. All at once. however, a dark figure was seen gliding beneath the trees, and this figure cautiously approached. I recognised the Doctor, and called to him, whereupon he quickly approached, and said, "I thought you were a Yankee! "and greeting me cordially, led the way into the house. Here I wrote my note and entrusted


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it to him for delivery— taking one from him to his wife, within our lines. In half an hour I rode away, but before doing so asked for some water, which was brought from the well by a sleepy, sullen, and insolent negro. This incident was fruitful of woes to Dr. Hunt! A month or two afterwards I met him looking as thin and white as a ghost.

"What is the matter? "I said.

"The matter is,"he replied, with a melancholy laugh, "that I have been starving for three weeks in Fortress Monroe on your account. Do you remember that servant who brought you the water that night of the raid ? "

"Perfectly."

"Well, the very next day he went over to the Yankee picket and told them that I had entertained Confederate officers, and given you all information which enable you to get off safely. In consequence I was arrested, carried to Old Point, and am just out! "

At the first streak of dawn the Chickahominy was in sight, and we were spurring forward to the ford.

It was impassable! The heavy rains had so swollen the waters that the crossing was utterly impracticable! Here we were within a few miles of an enraged enemy with a swollen and impassable stream directly in our front-the angry waters roaring around the half-submerged trunks of the trees— and expecting every instant to hear the crack of carbines from the rear-guard indicating the enemy's approach! The situation was not pleasing. I certainly thought that the enemy would be upon us in about an hour, and death or capture would be the sure alternative. This view was general.

The scene upon the river's bank was curious, and


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under other circumstances would have been laughable. The men lay about in every attitude, half-overcome with sleep, but holding their bridles,, and ready to mount at the first alarm. Others sat their horses asleep, with drooping shoulders. Some gnawed crackers; others ate figs, or smoked, or yawned. Things looked blue, and that colour was figuratively spread over every countenance.

The column was ordered to move on down the stream to a spot where an old bridge had formerly stood. Reaching this point, a strong rear-guard was thrown out, the artillery placed in position, and we set to work vigorously to rebuild the bridge, determined to bring out the guns or die trying.

The bridge had been destroyed, but the stone abutments remained some thirty or forty feet only apart, for the river here ran deep and narrow between steep banks. Between these stone sentinels, facing each other, was an "aching void " which it was necessary to fill. A skiff was procured; this was affixed by a rope to a tree, in the mid-current just above the abutments, and thus a movable pier was secured in the middle of the stream. An old barn was then hastily torn to pieces and robbed of its timbers; these were stretched down to the boat, and up to the opposite abutment, and a footbridge was thus ready. Large numbers of the men immediately unsaddled their horses, took their equipments over, and then returning, drove or rode their horses into the stream, and swain them over. In this manner a considerable number crossed; but the process was much too slow. There, besides, was the artillery, which we had no intention of leaving. A regular bridge must be built without a moment's delay.


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Heavier blows resounded from the old barn; huge timbers approached, borne on brawny soldiers, and des~ending into the boat anchored in the middle of the stream, the men lifted them across. They were just long enough ; the ends rested on the abutments, and immediately thick planks were hurried forward

and laid crosswise, forming a secure footway for the cavalry and artillery horses.

At last the bridge was finished; the artillery crossed amid hurrahs from the men, and then the General slowly moved his cavalry across the shaky footway. A little beyond was another arm of the river, which was, however, fordable, as I ascertained and reported to the General; the water just deep enough to swim a small horse; grid through this, as through the


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interminable sloughs of the swamp beyond, the head of the column moved. The prisoners, who were numerous, had been marched over in advance of everything, and these were now mounted on mules, of which several hundred had been cut from the captured wagons and brought along. They were started under an escort across the ford, and into the swamp beyond. Here, mounted often two on a mule, they had a disagreeable time; the mules constantly falling in the treacherous mud-holes, and rolling their riders in the ooze. When a third swamp appeared before them, one of the Federal prisoners exclaimed, with tremendous indignation, "How many Chicken-hominies are there, I wonder, in this infernal country!"

The gentlemen of the county, we afterwards heard, had been electrified by the rumour that "Stuart was down at the river trying to get across,"and had built a hasty bridge for us lower down. We were over, however, and reaching Mr. Cutter's, the General and his staff lay down on a carpet spread on the grass in the June sunshine, and went to sleep. This was Sunday. I had not slept since Friday night, except by snatches in the saddle, and in going on to Richmond afterwards fell asleep every few minutes on horseback.

80. On the Firing Line
By JAMES KENDALL HOSMER (1863)

WE have had a battle. Not quite a week ago we began to hear of it. We knew nothing certain, however, until Saturday. (It is now Tuesday.) Toward the end of that afternoon, the explicit orders came.

[_]

This was on the lower Mississippi River.


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The assault was to be made the next morning, and our regiment was to have a share in it. We were not to go home without the baptism of fire and blood.

Before dark, we were ordered into line, and stacked our arms. Each captain made a little speech. "No talking in the ranks; no flinching. Let every one see that his canteen is full, and that he has hard bread enough for a day. That is all You will carry beside gun and equipments."We left the guns in stack, polished, and ready to be caught on the instant; and lay down under the trees. At midnight came the cooks with coffee and warm food. Soon after came the order to move; then, slowly and with many halts, nearly four hundred strong, we took up our route along the wood-paths. Many other regiments were also in motion. The forest was full of Rembrandt pictures,— a bright blaze under a tree, the faces and arms of soldiers all aglow about it; the wheel of an army-wagon, or the brass of a cannon, lit up; then the gloom of the wood, and the night shutting down about it.

At length, it was daybreak. We were now only screened from the rebel works by a thin hedge. Here the rifle-balls began to cut keen and sharp through the air about us; and the cannonade, as the east now began to redden, reached its height,—a continual deafening uproar, hurling the air against one in great waves, till it felt almost like a wall of rubber, bounding and rebounding from the body,— the great guns of the "Richmond,"the siege-Parrotts, the smaller field-batteries ; and, through all, the bursting of the shells within the rebel lines, and the keen, deadly whistle of well-aimed bullets. A few rods down the military road, the column paused, The banks of the


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ravine rose on either side of the road in which we had halted: but just here the trench made a turn; and in front, at the distance of five or six hundred yards, we could plainly see the rebel rampart, red in the morning—light as with blood, and shrouded in white vapor along the edge as the sharpshooters behind kept up an incessant discharge, I believe I felt no sensation of fear, nor do I think those about me did.

We climb up the path. I go with my rifle between Wilson and Hardiker; keeping nearest the former, who carries the national flag. In a minute or two, the column has ascended, and is deploying in a long line, under the colonel's eye, on the open ground. The rebel engineers are most skilful fellows. Between us and the brown earth-heap which we are to try to gain to-day, the space is not wide; but it is cut up in every direction with ravines and gullies. These were covered, until the parapet was raised, with a heavy growth of timber; but now it has all been cut down, so that in every direction the fallen tops of large trees interlace, trunks block Lip every passage, and brambles are growing over the whole. It is out of the question to advance here in line of battle; it seems almost out of the question to advance in any order: but the word is given, "Forward!"and on we go. Know that this whole space is swept by a constant patter of balls: it is really a leaden rain. We go crawling and stooping: but now and then before us rises in plain view the line of earth-works, smoky and sulphurous with volleys; while all about Lis fall the balls, now sending a lot of little splinters from a stump, now knocking the dead wood out of the old tree-trunk that is sheltering me, now driving up a


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cloud of dust from a little knoll, or cutting off the head of a weed just under the hand as with an invisible knife. "Forward! " is the order. We all stoop; but the colonel does not stoop : he is as cool as he was in his tent last night, when I saw him drink iced lemonade. He turns now to examine the ground, then faces back again to direct the advance of this or that flank. Wilson springs on from cover to cover, and I follow close after him. It is hard work to get the flag along; it cannot be carried in the air; and we drag it and pass it from hand to hand among the brambles, much to the detriment of its folds. The line pauses a moment. Captain Morton, who has risen from a sick-bed to be with his command, is coolly cautioning his company. The right wing is to remain in reserve, while the left pushes still farther forward. The major is out in front of us now. He stands upon a log which bridges a ravine,— a plain mark for the sharpshooters, who overlook the position, not only from the parapet, but from the tall trees within the rebel works. Presently we move on again, through brambles and under charred trunks, tearing our way, and pulling after us the colors; creeping on our bellies across exposed ridges, where bullets hum and sing like stinging bees; and, right in plain view, the ridge of earth, its brow white with incessant volleys.

Down into our little nook now come tumbling a crowd of disorganized, panting men. They are part of a New York regiment, who, on the crest just over us, have been meeting with very severe loss. They say their dead and dying are heaped up there. We believe it; for we can hear them, they arc so near: indeed, some of those who come tumbling down are


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wounded; some have their gun-stocks broken by shot, and the barrels bent, while they are unharmed. They are frightened and exhausted, and stop to recover themselves; but presently their officers come up, and order them forward again. From time to time, afterwards, wounded men crawl back from their position a few yards in front of where we are.

We begin to know that the attack has failed. We know nothing certainly. There are rumors, thick as the rifle-balls, of this general killed, that regiment de. stroyed, and successful attempts elsewhere. The sun goes down on this day of blood. We have lost several killed, and several more wounded, and have done all we were called upon to do. The colonel tells us we have been cool, prudent, and brave. We have not been as much exposed as some other regiments, and our loss has not been large, The fire, however, seemed very hot, and close at hand; and the wonder to us all is, that no more fell. Darkness settles down; shots are received and returned, but only at random now, and, ever and anon, from the batteries goes tearing through the air a monstrous shell, with a roar like a rushing railroad-train, then an explosion putting every thing for the moment in light.

At dusk, I creep back to the ravine, where I am to sleep. For food to-day, I have had two or three hard crackers and cold potatoes. We have no blank. ets : so down I lie to sleep as I can on the earth, without covering; and, before morning, am chilled through with the dew and coldness of the air.


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81. Keenan's Charge
By GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP (1863)

[_]

At the battle of Chancellorsville, 1862.

BY the shrouded gleam of the western skies,
Brave Keenan looked in Pleasonton's eyes
For an instant— clear, and cool, and still;
Then, with a smile, he said: "I will."
"Cavalry, charge! "Not a man of them shrank.
Their sharp, full cheer, from rank on rank,
Rose joyously, with a willing breath—
Rose like a greeting hail to death.
Then forward they sprang, and spurred and clashed;
Shouted the officers, crimson-sashed;
Rode well the men, each brave as his fellow,
In their faded coats of the blue and yellow;
And above in the air, with an instinct true,
Like a bird of war their pennon flew.
With clank of scabbards and thunder of steeds,
And blades that shine like sunlit reeds,
And strong brown faces bravely pale
For fear their proud attempt shall fail,
Three hundred Pennsylvanians close
On twice ten thousand gallant foes.
Line after line the troopers came
To the edge of the wood that was ringed with flame;
Rode in and sabred and shot— and fell;
Nor came one back his wounds to tell.
And full in the midst rose Keenan, tall
In the gloom, like a martyr awaiting his fall,
While the circle-stroke of his sabre, swung
'Round his head, like a halo there, luminous hung.

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Line after line; ay, whole platoons,
Struck dead in their saddles, of brave dragoons
By the maddened horses were onward borne
And into the vortex flung, trampled and torn;
As Keenan fought with his men, side by side.
So they rode, till there were no more to ride.
But over them, lying there, shattered and mute,
What deep echo rolls?—'Tis a death-salute
From the cannon in place; for, heroes, you braved
Your fate not in vain: the army was saved!
Over them now—year following year
Over their graves the pine-cones fall,
And the whip-poor-will chants his spectre-call;
But they stir not again: they raise no cheer:
They have ceased. But their glory shall never cease,
Nor their light be quenched in the light of peace.
The rush of their charge is resounding still
That saved the army at Chancellorsville.

82. The Federals are Coming!
BY A SOUTHERN LADY (1863)

AT breakfast, on the morning of the 17th, we heard discussed the question, whether there was a masked battery on the opposite shore or not ? After some words on the subject, pro and con, we ranged the shore with the glass, seeing what the gentlemen believed to be a battery. They had been talking some moments, when I took the glass and saw a number of Federal soldiers walking on the levee toward the


313

spot where the battery was supposed to be. Several others seemed to be engaged on this very place removing the branches. I called one of the gentlemen to look. I had given up the glass but a few moments, when a volume of smoke burst from the embankment, and two shells were sent, one after the other, exploding at the depot just below us. It was indeed
illustration

DESTROYING A RAILROAD.

[Description: Union soldiers on horseback and foot pulling up railroad ties]
a battery, with two guns, which commenced playing on the city vigorously.

We were to leave that morning, and hearing that the cars would not venture up to the depot, went to a point below, where we found many anxious persons awaiting their arrival. We entered the cars, and were sitting quite securely and comfortably, when it was whispered around, much to the consternation of passengers, that they were ordered to approach the depot as near as possible, and take on freight; and thus we were carried up, under shelter of a high


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bluff, with many misgivings on my part, as shell after shell exploded on the hill above us. A nervous gentleman leaned forward and told me that we were in great danger, and, speaking in the 'same manner to many of the ladies, suggested that, if we made the request, the conductor would doubtless back into a safe place.

Although so frightened, his mode of relief was so evidently selfish that the gentlemen began joking him most unmercifully. In looking out of the window, although I felt a sympathy for the poor fellow, I could not but be amused at the ludicrous scene that presented itself : the porters bringing the baggage and small freight from the depot acted as if wild now halting to await the course of a shell-then dashing forward, determined to reach the cars before another came. Two negroes were coming with a small trunk between them, and a carpet bag or two, evidently trying to show others of the profession how careless of danger they were, and how foolish "niggars"were to run "dat sort o' way."A shell came ricochetting through the air and fell a few yards beyond the braves, when, lo! the trunk was sent tumbling, and landed bottom upward; the carpet bag followed— one grand somerset ; and amid the cloud of dust that arose, I discovered one porter doubled up by the side of the trunk, and the other crouching close by a pile of plank. A shout from the negroes on the cars, and much laughter, brought them on their feet, brushing their knees and giggling, yet looking quite foolish, feeling their former prestige gone. Yet gentlemen and servants avoided the depot as much as possible; and whenever a portion of earth was seen to arise in a small volume, accompanied


315

by smoke, men of both colors immediately ran (without casting a look behind) swiftly in the opposite , direction, " gentlemen of color "generally, in their haste, stumbling and turning one or two somersets before reaching a place of safety. And so the shell continued coming, exploding on all sides, yet not happening to reach us. Soon the glad sound of the whistle was heard, and, after our long suspense, we felt the motion of the cars again, and were glad to leave Vicksburg, with the sound of the cannon and noise of the shell still ringing in our cars.

Some young lady friends of mine were laughing and telling me of their experience during the danger of the previous night; of the fright and trouble they were in at the time 'the gunboats passed. Major Watts, of the Confederate army, had given a very large party, which they attended; one dressed in a corn-colored silk trimmed with black lace; another in blue silk trimmed with white point, and still another in white lace. In the confusion and alarm, as the first shell fell, one of the young girls, who was dancing with a brigadier-general, clasped her hands and exclaimed, 11 Where shall we go ? "In jest he said, " To the country for safety."Believing him serious, in the confusion that ensued, she told her young friends. They set out alone with all speed, frightened and trembling. Fortunately a gentleman friend, discovering their absence, overtook, and proceeded with them. As a shell would be heard coming, he would cry, "Fall!"and down they would drop in the dust, party dresses and all, lying until the explosion took place; then up, with wild eyes and fiercely beating hearts, flying with all speed onward. After running about a mile in the fewest moments


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possible, and falling several times, they stopped at the first house, and remained until their friends sent out for them in carriages.

"If you could have seen our party dresses when we reached home, and our hair, and the flowers, full of dust, you would never have forgotten us,"cried one. "Ah!"said another, "We laugh gayly this morning, for we are leaving the guns behind us; but last night it was a serious business, and we absolutely ran for our lives."

Soon the rumor came that from Canton a large Federal force was advancing on Jackson. Jackson was to be defended, which I doubted. Soon General Pemberton left and went to Vicksburg-Mrs. Pemberton to Mobile. Batteries were being erected in different parts of the town-one directly opposite the house I was in. I stood considering one morning where it was best to go, and what it was best to do, when a quick gallop sounded on the drive, and a friend rode hastily up and said, "Are you going to leave? ""Yes,"I answered, "but I have not yet decided where to go.""Well, I assure you there is no time for deliberation; I shall take my family to Vicksburg, as the safest place, and, if you will place yourself under my charge, I will see you safely to your husband."So the matter was agreed upon, and we were to leave that evening. Still, I was in doubt; the Federal army was spreading all over the country, and I feared to remain where I was. Yet I thought, may I not be in danger in Vicksburg? Suppose the gunboats should make an attack? Still, it was true, as my friend had said, we were in far more danger here from the rabble that usually followed a 1arge army, who might plunder, insult, and rob us.


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Very hurriedly we made our arrangements, packing with scarcely a moment to lose, not stopping to discuss our sudden move and the alarming news. Our friends, also, were in as great a panic and dismay as ourselves. Mrs. Arden had some chests of heavy silver. Many of the pieces were such that it would have taken some time to bury them. Her husband was absent, and she feared to trust the negro men with the secret. Another friend feared to bury her diamonds, thinking in that case she might never see them more; feared, also, to retain them, lest, through negroes' tales, the cupidity of the soldiers might become excited, and she be a sufferer in consequence. Every tumult in the town caused us to fly to the doors and windows, fearing a surprise at any time; and not only ladies, with pate faces and anxious eyes, met us at every turn, but gentlemen of anti-military dispositions were running hither and thither, with carpet bags and little valises, seeking conveyances, determined to find a safe place, if one could be found, where the sound of a gun or the smell of powder might never disturb them any more; and, as they ran, each had an alarming report to circulate; so that with the rush and roar of dray, wagon, and carriage, the distracting reports of the rapid advance of the Federal army, and the stifling clouds of dust that arose—with all, we were in a fair way to believe ourselves any being or object but ourselves.

The depot was crowded with crushing and elbowing human beings, swaying to and fro-baggage being thrown hither and thither—horses wild with fright, and negroes with confusion; and so we found ourselves in a car, amid the living stream that flowed


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and surged along— seeking the Mobile cars— seeking the Vicksburg cars— seeking anything to bear them away from the threatened and fast depopulating town.

83. Cave Life in a Besieged City
By A SOUTHERN LADY (1863)

So constantly dropped the shells around the city, that the inhabitants all made preparations to live under the ground during the siege. Martin sent over and had a cave made in a hill near by. We seized the opportunity one evening, when the gunners were probably at their supper, for we had a few moments of quiet, to go over and take possession. We were under the care of a friend of Martin's, who was paymaster on the staff of the same General with whom Martin was Adjutant. We had neighbors on both sides of us; and it would have been an amusing sight to a spectator to witness the domestic scenes presented without by the number of servants preparing the meals under the high bank containing the caves.

Our dining, breakfasting, and supper hours were quite irregular. When the shells were falling fast, the servants came in for safety, and our meals waited for completion some little time; again they would fall slowly, with the lapse of many minutes between, and out would start the cooks to their work.

Some families had light bread made in large quantities, and subsisted on it with milk (provided their cows were not killed from one milking time to another), without any more cooking, until called on to replenish. Though most of us lived on corn bread and bacon,

[_]

This is one of the most graphic accounts of the siege of Vicksburg, which was taken, 1863, by General Grant.


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served three times a day, the only luxury of the meal consisting in its warmth, I had some flour, and frequently had some hard, tough biscuit made from it, there being no soda or yeast to be procured. At this time we could, also, procure beef. And so I went regularly to work, keeping house under ground. Our new habitation was an excavation made in the earth, and branching six feet from the entrance, forming a cave in the shape of a T. In one of the wings my bed fitted; the other I used as a kind of a dressing room ; in this the earth had been cut down a foot or two below the floor of the main cave; I could stand erect here; and when tired of sitting in other portions of my residence, I bowed myself into it, and stood impassively resting at full height—one of the variations in the still shell-expectant life. Martin's servant cooked for us under protection of the hill. Our quarters were close, indeed; yet I was more comfortable than I expected I could have been made under the earth in that fashion.

We were safe at least from fragments of shell and they were flying in all directions; though no one seemed to think our cave any protection, should a mortar shell happen to fall directly on top of the ground above us.

And so the weary days went on— the long, weary days—when we could not tell in what terrible form death might come to us before the sun went down. Another fear that troubled Martin was, that our provisions might not last us during the siege. He would frequently urge me to husband all that I had, for troublesome times were probably in store for us ; told me of the soldiers in the intrenchments, who would have gladly eaten the bread that was left from our


320

meals, for they were suffering every privation, and that our servants lived far better than these men who were defending the city. Soon the pea meal became an article of food for us also, and a very unpalatable article it proved. To make it of proper consistency, we were obliged to mix some corn meal with it, which cooked so much faster than the pea meal, that it burned before the bread was half done. The taste was peculiar and disagreeable.

Still, we had nothing to complain of in comparison with the soldiers: many of them were sick and wounded in a hospital in the most exposed parts of the city, with shells falling and exploding all around them,

Even the very animals seemed to share the genera' fear of a sudden and frightful death. The dogs would be seen in the midst of the noise to gallop up the street, and then to return, as if fear had maddened them. On hearing the descent of a shell, they would dart aside— then, as it exploded, sit down and how] in the most pitiful manner. There were many walk. ing the street, apparently without homes.

In the midst of other miserable thoughts, it came into my mind one day, that these dogs through hunger might become as much to be dreaded as wolves. Groundless was this anxiety, for in the course of a week or two they had almost disappeared.


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84. Gettysburg
By EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN (1863)

WAVE, wave your glorious battle-flags, brave soldiers
of the North,
And from the fields your arms have won to-day go
proudly forth !
For now, 0 comrades dear and leal— from whom no
ills could part,
Through the long years of hopes and fears, the na-
tion's constant heart
Men who have driven so oft the foe, so oft have
striven in vain,
Yet ever in the perilous hour, have crossed his path
again,
At last we have our heart's desire, from them we met
have wrung
A victory that round the world shall long be told and
sung!
It was the memory of the past that bore us through
the fray,
That gave the grand old army strength to conquer on
this day!
Oh, now forget how dark and red Virginia's rivers
flow,
The Rappahannock's tangled wilds, the glory and the
woe;
The fever-hung encampments, where our dying knew
full sore
How sweet the north-wind to the cheek it soon shall cool
no more;
[_]

A terrible battle July 4, 1863, by which the Southern army was forced to retreat across the Potomac this was the crisis of the war.


322


The fields we fought, and gained, and lost, the low-
land sun and rain
That wasted us, that bleached the bones of our un-
buried slain!
There was no lack of foes to meet, of deaths to die no
lack,
All the hawks of heaven learned to follow on our track;
But henceforth, hovering southward, their flight shall
mark afar
The paths of yon retreating host that shun the north-
ern star.
At night before the closing fray, when all the front
was still,
We lay in bivouac along the cannon-crested hill.
Ours was the dauntless Second Corps; and many a
soldier knew
How sped the fight, and sternly thought of what was
yet to do.
Guarding the centre there, we lay, and talked with
bated breath
Of Buford's stand beyond the town, of gallant Rey-
nold's death,
Of cruel retreats through pent-up streets by murder-
ous volleys swept,—
How well the Stone, the Iron, brigades their bloody
outposts kept :
'Twas for the Union, for the Flag, they perished,
heroes all,
And we swore to conquer in the end, or even like
them to fall.
And passed from mouth to mouth the tale of what
grim day just done,

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The fight by Round Top's craggy spur—of all the
deadliest one ;
It saved the left : but on the right they pressed us
back too well,
And like a field in spring the ground was ploughed
with shot and shell.
There was the ancient graveyard, its hummocks
crushed and red.
And there, between them, side by side, the wounded
and the dead:
The mangled corpses fallen above— the peaceful dead
below,
Laid in their graves, to slumber here, a score of years
ago;
It seemed their waking, wandering shades were asking
of our slain,
What brought such hideous tumult now where they so
still had lain!
Bright rose the sun of Gettysburg that morrow morn-
ing tide,
And call of trump and roll of drum from height to
height replied.
Hark! from the east already goes up the rattling din;
The Twelfth Corps, winning back their ground, right
well the day begin!
They whirl fierce Ewell from their front! Now we of
the Second pray,
As right and left the brunt have borne, the centre
might to-day.
But all was still from hill to hill for many a breathless
hour,
While for the coming battle-shock Lee gathered in
his power;

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And back and forth our leaders rode, who knew not
rest or fear,
And along the lines, where'er they came, went up the
ringing cheer.
'Twas past the hour of nooning; the summer skies
were blue;
Behind the covering timber the foe was hid from view;
So fair and sweet with waving wheat the pleasant val-
ley lay,
It brought to mind our Northern home, and meadows
far away;
When the whole western ridge at once was fringed
with fire and smoke,
Against our lines from seven-score guns the dreadful
tempest broke!
Then loud our batteries answer, and far along the
crest,
And to and fro the roaring bolts are driven east and
west;
Heavy and dark around us glooms the stifling sulphur-
cloud,
And the cries of mangled men and horse go up be-
neath its shroud.
The guns are still: the end is nigh: we grasp our
arms anew;
Oh, now let every heart be stanch and every aim be
true!
For look! from yonder wood that skirts the valley's
further marge,
The flower of all the Southern host move to the final
charge,

325


By heaven! it is a fearful sight to see their double
rank
Come with a hundred battle-flags— a mile from flank
to flank!
Tramping the grain to earth, they come, ten thousand
men abreast ;
Their standards wave— their hearts are brave— they
hasten not, nor rest,
But close the gaps our cannon make, and onward
press, and nigher,
And, yelling at our very front, again pour in their
fire.
Now burst our sheeted lightnings forth, now all our
wrath has vent!
They die, they wither; through and through their
wavering lines are rent.
But these are gallant, desperate men, of our own race
and land,
Who charge anew, and welcome death, and fight us
hand to hand:
Vain, vain ! give way, as well ye may—the crimson
die is cast !
Their bravest leaders bite the dust, their strength is
failing fast ;
They yield, they turn, they fly the field: we smite
them as they run;
Their arms, their colors, are our spoil; the furious
fight is done!
Across the plain we follow far and backward push the fray:
Cheer! cheer! the grand old Army at last has won
the day!

326

Hurrah! the day has won the cause! No gray-clad
host henceforth
Shall come with fire and sword to tread the highways
of the North !
'Twas such a flood as when ye see, along the Atlantic
shore,
The great spring-tide roll grandly in with swelling
surge and roar:
It seems no wall can stay its leap or balk its wild
desire
Beyond the mount that Heaven hath fixed to higher
mount, and higher;
But now, when whitest lifts its crest, most loud its
billows call,
Touched by the Power that led them on, they fall, and
fall, and fall.
Even thus, unstayed upon his course, to Gettysburg
the foe
His legions led, and fought, and fled, and might no
further go.
Full many a dark-eyed Southern girl shall weep her
lover dead;
But with a price the fight was ours—we too have
tears to shed!
The bells that peal our triumph forth anon shall toll
the brave,
Above whose heads the cross must stand, the hill-side
grasses wave !
Alas! alas! the trampled grass shall thrive another
year,
The blossoms on the apple-boughs with each new
spring appear,

327


But when our patriot-soldiers fall, Earth gives them up
to God;
Though their souls rise in clearer skies, their forms
are as the sod ;
Only their names and deeds are ours—but, for a
century yet,
The dead who fell at Gettysburg, the land shall not
forget.
God send us peace! and where for aye the loved and
lost recline
Let fall, 0 South, your leaves of palm—0 North,
your sprigs of pine !
But when, with every ripened year, we keep the har-
vest-home,
And to the dear Thanksgiving-feast our sons and
daughters come
When children's children throng the board in the old
homestead spread,
And the bent soldier of these wars is seated at the
head,
Long, long the lads shall listen to bear the gray-beard
tell
Of those who fought at Gettysburg and stood their
ground so well:
"'Twas for the Union and the Flag,"the veteran
shall say,
"Our grand old Army held the ridge, and won that
glorious day!"

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85. How the Negroes helped the Yankees
By REVEREND GEORGE HUGHES HEPWORTH (1863)

MANY a man who has boasted that all his slaves could be trusted, that he had often given his boy Jim hundreds of dollars to carry to the bank, and that not a hand on his plantation could be cajoled away, had his eyes opened wide on these days of our advance. Unwilling that either Confederate or Federal should confiscate his most valuable horses, he had very stealthily and carefully hidden them in the thick underbrush of the woods, a mile or a mile and a half away. Jim alone knew where they were. The Confederates came rushing by, and Jim stood with open mouth at the spectacle; and, when asked where his master's horses were, he, of course, stared in profound ignorance. When the Federal advance came along, a cavalry-man rode up on his jaded beast and inquired,—

"Boys, can you tell me where I can get a fresh horse ? "

And Jim was not at all bashful. He at once answered,—

"Yes, marster: I'll show you where de old man hid his stallion; " and forthwith trotted by the side of the cavalry-man until he exchanged his worn-out hack for a fine, sleek stallion worth a thousand dollars.

These instances were innumerable. I will venture to say, that nearly half our cavalry-horses were changed in the T6che country; and, in the vast majority of cases, it was the favorite servants who pointed out the hiding-place, and said,—


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"You give us free, and we helps you all we can."A curious instance of this kind came under my notice. Wheelock and I were riding along with the skirmishers towards Opelousas, on two beasts that were thoroughly jaded; when a black boy rushed out from a cabin in the most excited manner, and would hardly let our horses go by, crying out,—

"Master, if you wants me to, I will tell you where there is two splendid horses belonging to de ole man."

"How far off ? "we asked.

"'Bout half a mile, master; and hid in de thick cane-brake."

"But why, you young rascal, do you come here, and discover to us your master's property? You ought to have more love for him than to do such a thing."

The idea of love seemed to strike the boy as being very peculiar; and he only answered,—

"When my master begins to lub me, den it'll be time enough for me to lub him. What I wants is to get away. I want you to take me off from dis plantation, where I can be free."

It was not a particularly pleasant though a somewhat romantic thing to leave our columns, and go half a mile into the woods. The guerillas abounded; and they had no scruples whatever about drawing a head on a stray Union soldier.

Still, we needed horses, and made the attempt. The beasts were not there. The black boy was confounded, but said he would call Jean.

Now, Jean was the only boy on the plantation who knew where those horses were. He was a favorite servant at the "big house;" and, when the owner discovered


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that the retreat of the horses was known to some of the hands, he told Jean to remove them secretly to some secure corner, where neither the hands whom he knew he could not trust nor the Federals could penetrate.

Jean was brought. He was forty-five years old, had a family, lived as well as a slave can live in the Têche country (which is one of the most cruel places in the State), and had received a great many favors from the "big house still he longed to be free. I said,—

"Jean, I hear you have hidden two good horses in the cane-brake. Will you show me where they are ? "

He hesitated a moment, as though revolving the subject in his mind, grew serious, and then said slowly and calmly,—

"Yes, master, I will show you where dem horses is. De ole fokes will kill me near-a-most, if dey ever finds it out; but you'se de people dat sets us free, and we poor colored fokes ought to do what little we can for you."

He led the way through fields half a mile, and then came to a very dense cane-brake. It was a ticklish place to be in; but we were in such condition, that we were willing to run some risk. Jean disappeared, and soon brought out a fine gray horse; and then, disappearing a second time, came back bringing another. We mounted with all despatch, the black boy getting astride of a very lean beast he had managed to pick up, and hastened on for our advance.

Jean's is a sample of the kind of love the best negroes bear their masters. The more a slave knows, and the nearer he comes to being a self-supporting


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man, the less willing is he to live in servitude. With the first idea that enters a black man's head comes the desire for freedom.

86. A Negro Regiment Under Fire
By REVEREND GEORGE HUGHES HEPWORTH (1863)

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Port Hudson. below Vicksburg, was the last Confederate stronghold on the river. Taken July 8, 1863

THE pluck of the negro as a soldier was fairly tried at the storming of Port Hudson in one of the hottest charges of the war. There were two regiments of Louisiana negroes in the right wing of the attacking force. Nobody trusted them. The West-Point generals shirked the responsibility of having them in their brigades. They were nothing but "nigger regiments,"— the exponents of a pet idea of certain crazy people in the North. The Southerners joined in the chorus of croakers, and sneered, and intimated that things were come to a pretty pass when we put guns into the hands of men who were as likely to shoot themselves as any one else, and drew them up in line against the chivalry of the South ; and so the whole current of popular feeling was against them. Still they drilled well; yes, they dressed into line magnificently,— a stalwart, heavy-chested set of fellows! They handled their muskets, too, in very soldierly fashion; but it was only by resolutely stemming the tide, by the most independent persistence, that the regiments kept their position. When first formed, they were laid on the shelf. They camped in the mud in Algiers or Baton Rouge eighteen months, rubbing their gun-barrels. At last came the siege of Port Hudson. Every man was needed


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and, more and better, Banks had no prejudice against color. In spite of some opposition, they were put into the field by the side of white soldiers. They were quiet, remaining within their camp-lines, holding their little meetings, hardly ever riotous, seldom drunk, never trespassing beyond their lines; and their presence was soon forgotten.

In good time, the morning came when the first assault was made. The distance between the camp of the assaulting party and the works of the enemy was a half-mile, more or less. The ground was ragged and broken, full of gullies, and strewn with timber placed there by the rebels to obstruct our progress. When our forces got near enough to the fortifications, they had to sustain, besides the direct fire upon their front, a severe enfilading fire from some heavy guns. Altogether, it was an assault that required men of the utmost daring and pluck.

The charge was ordered. The negro regiments advanced, and very soon came into the grape of the foe. They had never smelt powder before; but (their officers say) there was an eagerness, a wild, uncontrollable enthusiasm, about them, which was quite wonderful. They charged directly in the face of the storm of bullets, square up to the ditch, which is on this side the earth-works, and six feet deep and twenty feet wide. They were most horridly cut up; yet they retired in good order, and, when called again into line, answered at once. A second time, on the double-quick, they rushed up to the ditch, and again fell back. They were dressed into line a third time, and advanced. "When within a few rods of the enemy's works,"said one of their officers, "they became perfectly


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uncontrollable. We could not keep up with them. Their eagerness never was matched. Instead of cowardice, they seemed to have no conception of fear. The ditch troubled them. The enemy, their masters, whom they love so dearly, were beyond; and they chafed beyond measure. just then, the two regiments set up a yell. They were close to the foe. It was a sound unlike any thing I ever heard, a wild, unearthly noise. It came across me at the time, that it was the slavery of a thousand years finding vent."

The vexed question is settled for ever. The commanding general, in his official report, speaks in the most complimentary way of their behavior. They have fairly won a name, and won it by undoubted bravery, If, after this, we talk of negro regiments sneeringly, we are to be pitied for our littleness, and

despised for our ignorance. The only difficulty to be found with them is one not often complained of. It is, that they are apt to go too far. They become passionate, fearfully excited, and their officers lose control of them. In. battle they are not merciful. So complete is their hatred of the rebels, that they want to exterminate them.

87. Chickamauga
By COLONEL ROBERT L. KIMBERLY (1863)

IT was after midnight when the regiment, having passed Gordon's Mills, went into bivouac in a thicket near the road. The men felt that they were on a battlefield, and were glad enough of the scanty rest

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This piece is inserted as an example of the detailed description of a battle, Chickamauga, fought September 20, 1863, was one of the most desperate battles of the war, and was marked by the splendid generalship of General George H. Thomas.


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that was to be bad before daylight should call them to action again. Nothing could be seen of the position, but it was certain that the troops were massed rather than strung out in line, and the road was jammed with artillery and trains. In the morning the regiment with the rest was moved further along toward Rossville on the Chattanooga road, until it was near the Widow Glenn house, where Rosecrans' headquarters had been established. Further down the road and apparently to the right of it, there broke out, about the middle of the forenoon, the sound of a severe engagement. This was renewed again and again, and the report went about that a force sent to dispute the enemy's passage of the Chickamauga, needed more than one reinforcement. Finally, soon after noon, Palmer's division was deployed in echelon and moved straight across the Rossville road to the attack. No enemy was in sight when the movement began. The formation in echelon was with the object of striking and crushing the enemy's left flank. The movement started in an open wood; beyond this was a large open field, and about half way across it a strip of woodland. The Forty-first was in the first echelon, and advanced to the woodland. But beyond this the fighting was terrific. From the edge of the woods in front there came a storm of rifle balls, and back of this were batteries in rapid action. Away to the right the battle swept, and it was plain that the enemy's flank was not found.

The Forty-first fired its last cartridges and was recalled to replenish the boxes. This was done hurriedly, back in the open wood, and it was hardly finished when the enemy fell furiously on


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Van Cleave's division, which was on the right of Palmer's. Colonel Hazen was near the Forty-first when this happened. Some idle batteries were at hand, and Hazen quickly posted these to check the onslaught, for Van Cleave's men were beginning to come back. Then the brigade was moved into the path of the storm which was bearing back the division of Van Cleave. Colonel Wiley broke his line to the rear by companies, to let the retreating crowds pass through, and then wheeled back into line. The Forty-first was still in the open wood, and in front was a large cornfield. Through this the Confederates were swarming, but their first line had spent its force and lost its formation. Close behind came a second line in perfect order. Van Cleave's retreating regiments had broken up Hazen's line as they swept through, but the Forty-first had kept in form by breaking to the rear to let the fugitives pass, as has been told. Wiley opened on the Confederate second line, with volleys by front and rear ranks, and the advance was instantly checked. But it was soon apparent that the regiment was out-flanked. Shots began to come from the right rear. Then Wiley made a change of front to face to the right, and sent a volley into the gathering enemy there. Then a change back, to face the front and check the main advance. Never had the marvellous effect of volley firing been more clearly demonstrated; the fiery Confederates could not stand against it. The closed ranks of the Forty-first were in sharp contrast with the loose line in front and the wandering foes on the right. A hundred yards at a time the regiment fell back while loading, and easily held the enemy at bay. Then a commanding crest was reached, where a battery

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tery had taken post. Here it was proposed to stand, but the enemy did not come on. He was reforming his lines, as could be plainly seen from the crest. But night drew near, and the battle was over for the day.

Much of the night time was taken up with getting into a new position— slow and tiresome marching in the darkness. Next morning, before the enemy moved, the Forty-first was lying behind a barricade of rails and logs, an open field behind it. There were troops to right and left, showing that a general line of battle was posted. Rations were not abundant, and of water there was none at all. A detail was sent to fill canteens; the men did not return, but fell into the hands of the enemy, who held the water supply that was ours the day before. The intense suffering occasioned by this lack of water can hardly be imagined; pangs of hunger seemed mild in comparison. Before night, men's tongues were swollen and their lips blackened and cracked until the power of speech was gone. It was far on into the next night when that time of awful thirst was ended.

The morning was well along when it became apparent that the enemy was advancing upon the Union lines. Nothing was to be seen in the woods to the front but soon the well-known Confederate yell was heard, and the skirmishers became engaged, falling back before the enemy's line of battle. Then the line itself was in view, coming on with true Southern impetuosity. From behind its barricade of rails, the Forty-first opened fire, and to right and left the fight was on. The Confederates returned the fire with spirit, but their advance was checked, and they did little or no damage to the men behind the barricades.


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The attacking line rapidly thinned out under the steady fire; then it became unsteady, and finally it turned and fled. This was the regiment's first experience behind a defended line. Slight as was that defense of rails, it changed the whole character of the fighting. The enemy was severely punished, as was plainly to be seen, and had been able to make no return in kind. The men began to wonder if an attacking force could cover three hundred yards or so, before a well directed fire should destroy it.

But the battle was not over with this one successful defense. The Confederate line overlapped the Union left and had forced it back until it was stretched across the open field in the rear, and at a right angle with the general line. Then there was a b rave fight on both sides in the open ground. It was plainly seen from the position held by the Forty-first, and it was most eagerly watched. If those men on the flank failed to maintain their ground, the whole line would be taken in rear while it was assaulted in front. There were some moments of intense anxiety, and then it was seen that the Confederate assault bad spent its force. It was as stubborn a fight as one could wish to see, but the staying quality of the Union troops won. Baird's and Johnson's divisions were on the left of Palmer's.

This doubling up of a flank occurred again that day—the second time, the right flank. This came from a break in the Union line, made not by the enemy, but by order from the commanding general. A division (Wood's) was withdrawn from its place in line, and at once the enemy entered the gap. The army was cut in two, and most of the right was driven from the field. The general of the army


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went as far as Chattanooga. The Confederates pushed their advantage toward the Union left, until the division next on the right of Palmer's was bent back to the rear. This, like the flank attack on the left, was in view, from the position of the Forty-first, and was watched as anxiously. Also like the other flanking operation, this one failed, thanks to nothing but the steadiness of the Union troops.

But, while these things were taking place in front and oil both flanks another peril began to grow in the consciousness of the men who could not be driven from front or flank. The cartridge boxes were being rapidly emptied, and no ammunition train was near. Everything seemed to have been swept away with the right wing. Then from the woods across the open field in rear, bullets began to whistle toward the backs of the men in the line. These shots were supposed to come from sharpshooters in the trees. A company of the Forty-first was faced about and delivered a volley into the treetops across the open. This had a good effect, there was one danger the less. But the question of ammunition pressed. Nobody knew where to find it. The four divisions of the left wing were holding their ground, but they were out of communication with the rest of the army, wherever that might be, and they had no supplies of any kind. The division generals came together, and the question of a commander came up. The three corps of the army were represented in those four divisions, but there was no corps commander present. None of the division generals coveted the responsibility of command, but it was plain that something must be done. There was heavy firing off to the right, and it was guessed that somewhere in that direction Thomas


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was holding out against the enemy that had swept away the right wing. Finally, Hazen volunteered to take his brigade across the interval, and make communication with whatever Union force might be still in the field. The brigade was withdrawn from the line, marched somewhat to the rear, and then started
illustration

"OLD ABE."

[Description: Illustration of the American Bald Eagle]
off through the unexplored woods toward the sound of battle. The movement was made cautiously but rapidly, the brigade constantly in readiness for any fortune that might befall. There were some scat tered Confederates in the woods, and a Confederate skirmish line was struck obliquely, but no other force was encountered. The way seemed miles longer

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than it was, and the relief was great when the leading regiment came upon the left of the position where Thomas had stopped the victorious enemy and held him steadfastly. Thomas himself, beloved of all thee army, rode up to take Hazen by the hand. The arrival was just in time. A desperate assault was about to come on the left of Thomas's line. Hazen's men marched through a cornfield to the crest of a low bill, and were there massed in column of regiments. Scarcely was this done when the Confederate storm burst. The slope in front of the brigade was open ground, and in a moment this was covered with heavy masses of the enemy making for the top. Hazen's regiments were lying flat. The foremost sprang to its feet, delivered its volley and went down again to load, and the next regiment just behind rose to fire and fall flat while the third put in its work; and so on. The slope was strewn with Confederate dead and wounded, but not a man could reach the crest. Along the rest of the line also the defense was successful. Night was falling fast, and the battle of Chickamauga was over.

88. 0 Captain! My Captain!
By WALT WHITMAN (1865)

0 CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we
sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all
exulting,

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While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim
and daring;
But 0 heart! heart! heart!
0 the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
0 Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the
bugle trills,
For you the bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for
you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager
faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and
still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor
will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage
closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object
won;
Exult of shores, and ring 0 bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

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