Chapter XXIX: The Night in Camp--Beginning of the Last Day's Battle

|You've done well,” said the general. “Now go and lie down somewhere and get all the sleep you can, as you 'll have enough to do to-morrow.”

Harry touched his cap in acknowledgment of the command and then jogged back to camp, which was not more than a mile to the rear. Learning that it was possible to get to the bank of the creek without danger, he rode down there and watered his horse. The animal drank long and eagerly, as he had not had a drop of water through the long and active day. Then he returned to the camp, and fastening the animal to a wagon-wheel, having first filled his nose-bag with grain, he lay down beneath the wagon and tried to sleep.

But he slept very little, probably not thirty minutes altogether. Everything was in commotion around the camp. Ambulances were coming and going to bring in the wounded men; the doctors were busy with their suffering patients; men were sitting or standing in little groups, deeply engaged in speculating on the probable events of the morrow; mounted men were moving about with orders or messages or seeking missing officers or soldiers, and probably not one person in twenty thought of sleep. In the whole position occupied by the army during that night it is probable that the most quiet spot was where the division of General Carr had bivouacked in front of the enemy, for there, at any rate, they slept undisturbed.

At the beginning of the battle in the morning all the teams had been harnessed, to be ready to move the wagons whenever wanted. The mules had not been fed for forty-eight hours, nor had they received a drop of water for half that time. The voice of a mule at its best is not melodious, and when to the ordinary sound of his bray is added a plaintive wail of suffering it falls distressingly on the ear. Lower and lower grew the note till it fell to a moan that was well calculated to banish sleep from any one not entirely worn out with exertion. So thought Harry, and after several vain endeavors he rose to his feet and joined one of the groups of soldiers and drivers who were discussing the situation.

During the evening the lines of the army were drawn in on the left and preparations were made to bring the forces of Sigel and Davis, who had suffered but slightly during the day, to the relief of the worn out division of General Carr. The concentration was completed by midnight: General Davis's division was placed on the left, General Carr's in the center, and the two divisions of General Sigel held the right of our line. Thus arranged, the brunt of the fighting would be concentrated on Sigel's command in case the rebels remained in the positions where they were at nightfall. In case they had changed during the night, it would enable General Carr to be quickly re-enforced if the odds against him should be as heavy as they were on the day before.

Harry rode out to the front again a little before daylight, and as he passed along the road he heard the sound of vocal music rolling up from the German regiments that composed the greater part of General Sigel's command. He was unacquainted with German, and so the words of the song were unknown to him, but the music under the circumstances sounded strangely. “And yet,” he remarked to himself, “it seems to me that I've read of something of the kind somewhere else.

“Now I remember,” said he, suddenly, as he straightened in his saddle; “it was in the Crimean war, the night before the storming of the Malakofï and Redan and the capture of Sebastopol. I recall it all now; the whole British army in the trenches sang the words of a Scottish air, with which all were familiar, and the story has been told in verse by Bayard Taylor. Here are some of his lines:

“'They sang of love, and not of fame,
Forgot was Britain's glory.
Each heart recalled a different name
But all sang Annie Laurie.

“'Voice after voice caught up the song,
Until its tender passion
Rose like an anthem rich and strong,
Their battle eve's confession.

“'Dear girl, the name he dared not speak
Yet as the song grew louder,
Something upon the soldier's cheek
Washed off the stain of powder.

“'And Irish Nora's eyes are dim
For a singer dumb and gory;
And English Mary mourns for him
Who sang of Annie Laurie.

“'Sleep, soldiers, in your honored rest,
Your truth and valor bearing;
The bravest are the tenderest,
The loving are the daring.'

“Perhaps that's a love song the Germans are singing,” thought Harry, as he paused in repeating the lines of the verses given above, “and they are acting over again the scene of the attack on Sebastopol. I hope the battle will turn out as well for us as did that one for the allied army of the English and French.”

Daybreak came and then sunrise. Harry had hoped for a clear morning, but his hopes were doomed to disappointment. During the previous day the smoke had frequently hung thickly over the field, at times rendering the combatants invisible to each other and greatly hindering the movements on both sides. All through that cool and almost frosty night the smoke hung low over the ground, and as the sun rose on the morning of the eighth of March it pierced through a cloud that seemed more like fog than any thing else, and was first visible as a dull ball of copper, on which the youth could easily fix his eyes without blinking. The sun showed itself only a short time and then the sky became overcast, and for a while it looked as though the day might be rainy.

We will now listen to Harry's account of the last day's fighting.

“I thought they would begin at daylight, and so did everybody else; or at any rate, everybody was ready on our side for the opening of the battle. But though we could see the rebels in strong force right in front of us, and evidently as ready as we were, there was hardly a shot fired, except by the skirmishers, until after eight o'clock. They left the opening of the day's work to us, and we did n't go about it till we were 'good and ready.'

“General Curtis intended the heaviest of the fighting for General Sigel's two divisions, as they had suffered least on the day before. The rebels had been busy during the night, and planted some of their batteries on a hill perhaps a hundred feet high, which sloped away to the north, but was quite steep on the face toward us. It was very much such a position as we had at Sugar Creek, where the enemy wisely chose not to attack. Now we had no choice but to attack them, and they were prepared for a vigorous defense, as they had large masses of supporting infantry at the base of the hill on both sides, and also several pieces of artillery scattered among the infantry.

“Under cover of the woods at the edge of the corn-field which lay between us and the enemy, General Sigel planted his batteries and drew up his infantry and cavalry where they could give efficient support. We wondered why the rebels did not open fire upon him while he was getting ready, but we learned afterward that they felt confident of defeating him when the actual fighting should begin, and besides they were short of artillery ammunition and wanted to make every shot tell. They argued that if they opened fire the guns would be withdrawn and they would be compelled to leave the place, where they had so much advantage of position, and follow us wherever we drew them.

“I stood where I could see pretty much all that was going on there, and it was certainly a wonderful picture. The white and withered stalks of the corn in the field contrasted sharply with the dark-blue coats of our men when they advanced from the edge of the wood to the open ground, and, luckily for us, the smoke blew away a little before eight o' clock and gave us a clear view across the field. We could easily make out the rebel lines and the positions of the cannon that were ready to open upon us. Our cannoneers stood to their guns and waited the command to open fire; the rebel artillery-men were evidently doing the same thing, and on both sides the infantry were prepared for whatever was demanded of it.

“General Sigel gave the order, and a dozen cannon fired very quickly, one after the other. Each gunner took sight against a tree on the hill where the rebel batteries were stationed, and tried the effect of his shot upon it. The first shots were too high, and a turn of the elevating-screw depressed the muzzle of the gun. The second shot was generally too high, though with some it proved just right; but with nearly every gun the third shot was exactly the proper range. Then the aim was taken at the rebel guns that were just beginning to fire, and for nearly two hours there was an artillery duel, in which the infantry had little to do but to look on.

“Through their glasses the officers could see that our fire was having terrible effect. Several of the rebel cannon were disabled and sent to the rear. Several of our guns were disabled and retired, and their places promptly filled by others; but somehow the enemy did not seem to have a reserve to draw upon. Their fire slackened, their infantry seemed to be melting away, and through the smoke several of their men ran across to our lines and surrendered.

“This confirmed what had already been reported through our camp, that General McCulloch had been killed, and also General McIntosh, one of their best officers, and formerly of the regular army. They said they had been entirely confident of capturing all of us, but the death of these generals had disheartened a good many of the men; and they were very short of provisions and ammunition.

“We had thirty pieces of artillery playing on the rebels at one time. They could not respond with so many, and as their artillery fire slackened General Sigel suddenly ordered some of the guns to change their fire into the ranks of the infantry and cavalry that were waiting on the enemy's flanks ready to charge us when ordered.

“The shell, grape and canister tore great swaths in the crowded ranks and piled up windrows of dead and wounded. No troops except the most stolid Asiatics could stand such a fire as that. The cavalry and infantry melted away, and the artillery was without support.

“A battery of three guns on an open space at one side of the hill, and near the road, became troublesome, and the fire of one of our batteries was turned upon it. Then, as the return fire slackened, the wind blew away the smoke and revealed its exact position.

“'Send a regiment to take that battery,' said General Sigel to one of his staff.

“The honor was given to the Twelfth Missouri, and as soon as the order was received away they dashed for their work. Across the field they went at full charge, losing twelve men killed outright and more than twice that number wounded, but not once did they halt. When the rebels saw them coming they rallied several companies of infantry to the support of the battery, but too late to save it. The charge was successful and the guns were ours.”