The Boys of '61 Part 39

At daybreak the cannonade recommenced, Grant's guns coming first into play. The Rebels for a while remained in silent indifference; but as continued teasing rouses a wild beast's anger, so at length they replied.

The air was calm, and the reverberation rolled far over the forest. There was constant skirmishing through the forenoon. General Grant rode along the lines, inspected the position, and issued orders for a general advance at five o'clock; but Lee took the initiative, and through the afternoon the battle raged with exceeding fierceness.

There was nothing at Spottsylvania worthy of contention,-no mountain-pa.s.s or deep-running river; but General Grant being on his way to Richmond, his adversary, like Apollyon a.s.saulting Christian, had come out to meet him on that spot. Lee had the advantage of position and was able to concentrate his forces. It was about one o'clock when Longstreet began to press Hanc.o.c.k. There was a hot engagement for an hour, princ.i.p.ally by Birney's division; but failing to move Birney, an attempt was made to pry open still wider the joint between the Second and Fifth Corps.

The relative positions of the two armies will be seen from the following diagram.

Spottsylvania.

The battle was fought in the forest,-in the marshes along the Ny,-in ravines,-in pine-thickets densely shaded with the dark evergreens that shut out the rays of the noonday sun,-in open fields, where Rebel batteries had full sweep and play-with sh.e.l.l, and grape, and canister-from intrenched positions on the hills.

During a lull in the strife I visited the hospitals. Suddenly the battle recommenced in greater fury. The wounded began to come in at a fearful rate. The battle was drawing nearer. Sh.e.l.ls were streaming past the hospitals. There were signs of disaster.

"Are they driving us?" was the eager inquiry of the wounded.

While the storm was at its height, a stalwart soldier who had just risen from the amputating-table, where his left arm, torn to shreds by a cannon-shot, had been severed above the elbow, leaning against the tent-pole, sang the song he often had sung in camp,-

"The Union forever! Hurrah, boys! hurrah!

Down with the traitor, up with the star; While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again, Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom!"

His wounded comrades heard it, and joined in the chorus, raising their arms, swinging their caps, and cheering the flag they loved. It is one of memory's fadeless pictures. Is it a wonder that the recollection of that scene sometimes fills my eyes with tears?

The contest all along the line was terrific. Even now, over all the intervening time and distance, I seem to hear the unceasing rattle and roll of musketry and cannon, the cheer of the combatants, the tramping of horses, the explosion of sh.e.l.ls, the shriek of the rifled projectile, the crash through the trees. It goes on hour after hour. The ranks are thinning. The men with stretchers bring in their bleeding burdens, and lay them gently upon the ground.

It is past seven o'clock. The shades of evening are falling. The hillside in front of the Sixth Corps is aflame. While the uproar is wildest there is a cheer, sharper and louder than the din of the conflict. It is not the savage war-cry of the enemy, but a buoyant shout. Into the storm sweeps the Vermont brigade, with bayonets firmly set, leaping over the Rebel works, and gathering hundreds of prisoners from Dale's brigade of Rebels. Ewell poured in reinforcements to strengthen his line and regain his lost work, which was stubbornly held by the Second Vermont. Far in advance of the main line lay that regiment, pouring a deadly fire upon the enemy. General Wright (in command after Sedgwick's death) sent to have the regiment withdrawn.

"We don't want to go back! Give us rations and ammunition, and we'll hold it for six months if you want us to," was the reply.

General Wright rode to General Grant. "What shall I do?" he asked.

"Pile in the men and hold it!" was the answer.

General Wright returned, but meanwhile a subordinate officer had ordered them to retire. They were loath to give up what they had won so gloriously.

General Rice, commanding a brigade in the Fifth Corps, was wounded, and borne to the rear. The surgeon laid down his knife after removing the shattered limb, and stood beside him to soothe with tender words in the last dread hour which was coming on apace. The sufferer could hear the swelling tide of battle, the deepening rolls like waves upon the ocean sh.o.r.e. His eyes were closing. He was approaching that ocean which has no sh.o.r.e. His pain was intense.

"Turn me over," said he, faintly.

"Which way?"

"Let me die with my face to the enemy!"

They were his last words. A short struggle and all was ended. A Christian patriot had finished his work on earth, and was numbered with the heroic dead.

The early dawn of Thursday, the 12th, beheld the Second Corps in motion,-not to flank the enemy, but moving, with fixed bayonets, straight on towards his intrenchments. Barlow's and Birney's divisions in columns of battalions, doubled on the centre, to give strength and firmness, led the a.s.sault. They move silently through the forest,-through the ravine in front of them, up to their own skirmish-line,-past it,-no longer marching, but running now,-dashing on with enthusiasm thrilling every nerve. They sweep away the Rebel picket-line as if it were a cobweb. On! into the intrenchments with a hurrah which startles the soldiers of both armies from their morning slumbers. Major-General Johnson and Brigadier-General Stewart, and three thousand men of Ewell's division are taken prisoners, eighteen cannon, and twenty-two standards captured.

It was the work of five minutes,-as sudden as the swoop of an eagle. Then the uproar of the day began. The second line of the enemy's works was a.s.saulted; but, exasperated by their losses, the Rebels fought fiercely. The Ninth Corps was moved up from the left to support the Second. Longstreet, on the other hand, was brought over to help Ewell. The Fifth and Sixth became partially engaged. There were charges and counter-charges. Positions were gained and lost. From morning till night the contest raged on the right, in the centre, and on the left, swaying to and fro over the undulations and through the ravines. It was a battle of fourteen hours' duration,-in severity, in unflinching determination, in obstinacy, not exceeded by any during the war. Between forty and fifty pieces of artillery were at one time in the hands of General Hanc.o.c.k; but owing to the difficulties of removal, and the efforts of the enemy, he could secure only eighteen. During the day Grant advanced his lines a mile towards the court-house, and repulsed Lee in all his counter-attacks.

During the lull in the strife at Spottsylvania I spent a day in Fredericksburg, visiting the hospitals.

The city is a vast hospital; churches, public buildings, private dwellings, stores, chambers, attics, bas.e.m.e.nts, all full. There are thousands upon the sidewalk. All day long the ambulances have been arriving from the field. There are but few wounded left at the front, those only whom to remove would be certain death.

The sanitary commission in the hospital.

A red flag has been flung out at the Sanitary Commission rooms,-a white one at the rooms of the Christian Commission. There are three hundred volunteer nurses in attendance. The Sanitary Commission have fourteen wagons bringing supplies from Belle Plain. The Christian Commission has less transportation facilities, but in devotion, in hard work, in patient effort, it is the compeer of its more bountifully supplied neighbor. The nurses are divided into details, some for day service, some for night work. Each State has its Relief Committee.

How patient the brave fellows are! Not a word of complaint, but thanks for the slightest favor. There was a lack of crutches. I saw an old soldier of the California regiment, who fought with the lamented Baker at Ball's Bluff, and who had been in more than twenty battles, hobbling about with the arms of a settee nailed to strips of board. His regiment was on its way home, its three years of service having expired. It was reduced to a score or two of weather-beaten, battle-scarred veterans. The disabled comrade could hardly keep back the tears as he saw them pa.s.s down the street. "Few of us left. The bones of the boys are on every battle-field where the Army of the Potomac has fought," said he.

There was the sound of the pick and spade in the churchyard, a heaving-up of new earth,-a digging of trenches, not for defence against the enemy, but for the last resting-place of departed heroes. There they lie, each wrapped in his blanket, the last bivouac! For them there is no more war,-no charges into the thick, leaden rain-drops,-no more hurrahs, no more cheering for the dear old flag! They have fallen, but the victory is theirs,-theirs the roll of eternal honor. Side by side,-men from Ma.s.sachusetts, from Pennsylvania, and from Wisconsin,-from all the States, resting in one common grave. Peace to them! blessings on the dear ones,-wives, mothers, children whom they have left behind.

Go into the hospitals;-armless, legless men, wounds of every description. Men on the floor, on the hard seats of church-pews, lying in one position all day, unable to move till the nurse, going the rounds, gives them aid. They must wait till their food comes. Some must be fed with a spoon, for they are as helpless as little children.

"O that we could get some straw for the brave fellows," said the Rev. Mr. Kimball, of the Christian Commission. He had wandered about town, searching for the article.

"There is none to be had. We shall have to send to Washington for it," said the surgeon in charge.

"Straw! I remember two stacks, four miles out on the Spottsylvania road. I saw them last night as I galloped in from the front."

Armed with a requisition from the Provost Marshal to seize two stacks of straw, with two wagons driven by freedmen, accompanied by four Christian Commission delegates, away we went across the battle-field of December, fording Hazel Run, gaining the heights, and reaching the straw stacks owned by Rev. Mr. Owen, a bitter Rebel.

"By whose authority do you take my property?"

"The Provost Marshal, sir."

"Are you going to pay me for it?"

"You must see the Provost Marshal, sir. If you are a loyal man, and will take the oath of allegiance, doubtless you will get your pay when we have put down the Rebellion."

"It is pretty hard. My children are just ready to starve. I have nothing for them to eat, and you come to take my property without paying for it."

"Yes, sir, war is hard. You must remember, sir, that there are thousands of wounded men,-your Rebel wounded as well as ours. If your children are on the point of starving, those men are on the point of dying. We must have the straw for them. What we don't take to-night we will get in the morning. Meanwhile, sir, if anybody attempts to take it, please say to them that it is for the hospital, and they can't have it."

Thus with wagons stuffed, we leave Rev. Mr. Owen and return to make glad the hearts of several thousand men. O how they thank us!

"Did you get it for me? G.o.d bless you, sir."

It is evening. Thousands of soldiers just arrived from Washington have pa.s.sed through the town to take their places in the front. The hills around are white with innumerable tents.

A band is playing lively airs to cheer the wounded in the hospitals. I have been looking in to see the sufferers. Two or three have gone to their long home. They will need no more attention. A surgeon is at work upon a ghastly wound, taking up the arteries. An attendant is pouring cold water upon a swollen limb. In the Episcopal church a nurse is bolstering up a wounded officer in the area behind the altar. Men are lying in the pews, on the seats, on the floor, on boards on top of the pews.

Two candles in the s.p.a.cious building throw their feeble rays into the dark recesses, faintly disclosing the rec.u.mbent forms. There is heavy, stifled breathing, as of constant effort to suppress cries extorted by acutest pain.

Pa.s.sing into the street you see a group of women, talking about our wounded,-Rebel wounded, who are receiving their especial devotion. The Provost Marshal's patrol is going its rounds to preserve order.

Starting down the street, you reach the rooms of the Christian Commission. Some of the men are writing letters for the soldiers, some eating their night-rations, some dispensing supplies. Pa.s.sing through the rooms, you gain the grounds in the rear,-a beautiful garden once,-not unattractive now. The air is redolent with honeysuckle and locust blossoms. The prunifolia is unfolding its delicate milk-white petals; roses are opening their tinted leaves.