The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems Part 8

"Fast by the field where gallant Baker fell, We crossed the famous river and advanced To Frederick. There a transitory cloud Gloomed the Grand Army--Hooker was relieved: Fell from command at victory's open gate The dashing, daring, soul-inspiring chief, The idol of his soldiers, and they mourned.

He had his faults--they were not faults of heart-- His gravest--fiery valor. Since that day, The self-same fault--or virtue--crowned a chief With laurel plucked on rugged Kenesaw.

Envy it was that wrought the hero's fall, Envy, with hydra-heads and serpent-tongues, Hissed on the wolfish clamors of the Press.

O fickle Fortune, how thy favors fall-- Like rain upon the just and the unjust!

Throughout the army, as the soldiers read The farewell-order, gloomy murmurs ran; But our new chieftain cheered our drooping hearts.

"That Meade would choose his battle-ground we knew, And if not his the gallant dash and dare That on Antietam's b.l.o.o.d.y battle-field s.n.a.t.c.hed victory from defeat, our faith was firm That he would fight to win, and hold the reins Firmly in hand, nor sacrifice our lives In wild a.s.saults and fruitless daring deeds.

"From Taneytown, at mid-day, on the hills Of Gettysburg we heard the cannon boom.

Our gallant Hanc.o.c.k rode full speed away; We under Gibbon swiftly following him At midnight camped on Cemetery Hill.

Sharp the initial combat of the grand On-coming battle, and the sulphurous smoke Hung in blue wreaths above the silent vale Between two hostile armies, mightier far Than met upon the field of Marathon.

Or where the proud Carthago bowed to Rome.

Hope of the North and Liberty--the one; Pride of the South--the other. On the hills-- A rolling range of rugged, broken hills, Stretching from Round-Top northward, bending off And b.u.t.ting down upon a silver stream-- In open field our veteran regiments lay.

Facing our battle-line and parallel-- Beyond the golden valley to the west-- Lay Seminary Ridge--a crest of hills Covered with emerald groves and fields of gold Ripe for the harvest: on this rolling range, As numerous as the swarming ocean-fowl That perch in squadrons on some barren isle Far in the Arctic sea when summer's sun With slanting spears invades the icy realm, The Southern legions lay upon their arms.

As countless as the winter-evening stars That glint and glow above the frosted fields Twinkled and blazed upon that crest of hills The camp-fires of the foe. Two mighty hosts, Ready and panoplied for deadliest war, And eager for the combat where the prize Of victory was empire--for the foe An empire borne upon the bended backs Of toiling slaves in millions--but for us, An empire grounded on the rights of man-- Lay on their arms awaiting innocent morn To light the field for slaughter to begin.

"Silent above us spread the dusky heavens, Silent below us lay the smoky vale, Silent beyond, the dreadful crest of hills.

Anon the neigh of horse, a sentry's call, Or rapid hoof-beats of a flying steed Bearing an aid and orders, broke the dread, Portentous silence. I was worn and slept.

"The call of bugles wakened me. The dawn Was stealing softly o'er the shadowy land, And morning grew apace. Broad in the east Uprose above the crest of hazy hills Like some broad shield by fabled giant borne, The golden sun, and flashed upon the field.

Ripe for the harvest stood the golden grain, Nodding on gentle slopes and dewy hills.

Ready for the harvest death's grim reapers stood Waiting the signal with impatient steel; And morning pa.s.sed, and mid-day. Here and there The crack of rifles on the picket-line, Or boom of solitary cannon broke The myriad-voiced and dreadful monotone.

So fled the anxious hours until the hills Sent forth their silent shadows to the east-- And then their batteries opened on our left Advanced into the valley. All along The rolling crest of Seminary Ridge Rolled up the smoke of cannon. Answered then The grim artillery on our chain of hills'

And heaven was hideous with the bellowing boom, The whiz of shot, the infernal shrieks of sh.e.l.ls.

Down from the hills their charging columns came A glittering ma.s.s of steel. As when the snow Piled by an hundred winters on the peak Of cloud-robed Bernard thunders down the cliffs, Nor rocks nor forests stay the mighty ma.s.s, And men and flocks in terror fly the death, So thundering fell the columns of the foe, Crushing through Sickles' corps in front and flank; And, roaring onward like a mighty wind, They rushed for Little Round-Top--rugged hill, Key to our left and center--all exposed-- Manned by a broken battery half unmanned.

But Hanc.o.c.k saw the peril. On stalwart steed Foam-flecked, wide-nostriled, panting like a hound, That stalwart soldier--Spartan to the soles-- Came dashing down where, p.r.o.ne along the ridge Upon the right, our sheltered regiment lay.

'_By the left flank, forward--double-quick!_'--We sprang And dashed for Little Round-Top; formed our line Flanking the broken battery. Up the slope, Like frightened sheep when howling wolves pursue, Fled Sickles' men in panic: hard behind On came the Rebel columns. Hat in hand Waving and shouting to his eager corps-- Rode gallant Longstreet leading on the foe.

"Where yonder field-wall bounds the trampled wheat By grove and meadow, see--among the trees-- Their bayonets gleam advancing. Line on line, Column on column, in the field beyond, Their hurrying ranks crowd glittering on and on.

High at the head their flaunting colors fly; High o'er the roar their wild, triumphant yell Shrills like the scream of panthers.

"Hanc.o.c.k's voice Rang down our lines above the cannons' roar: _'Advance, and take those colors'_[C]--Adown the slope Like Bengal tigers springing at the hounds, We sprang and met them at the border wall: Muzzle to muzzle--steel to steel--we met, And fought like Romans and like Romans fell.

Even as a cyclone, growling thunder, roars Down through a dusky forest, and its path Is strown with broken and uprooted pines Promiscuous piled in broad and broken swaths, So crashed our volleys through their serried ranks, Mowing great swaths of death; yet on and on, Closing the gaps and yelling like the fiends That Dante heard along the gulf of h.e.l.l, Still came our furious foes. A cloud of smoke-- Dense, sulphurous, stifling--covered all our ranks.

Our steady, deadly rifles crackled still, And still their crashing volleys rolled and roared.

Our rifles blazed upon the blaze below; The blaze below upon the blaze above, And in the blaze the buzz of myriad bees Whose stings were deadlier than the Libyan asp.

Five times our colors fell--five times arose Defiant, flapping on the broken wall.

[C] These are the very words used by General Hanc.o.c.k on this occasion.

"We hold the perilous breach; on either hand Our foes out-flank us, leap the sheltering wall And pour their deadly, enfilading fire.

G.o.d shield our shattered ranks!--G.o.d help us!

"Ho!

'Stars and Stripes' on the right!--Hurra!--Hurra!

The Green Mountain Boys to our aid!--Hurra!--Hurra.

Cannon-roar down on the left!--Our batteries are there-- Hurling hot h.e.l.l-fire'--See!--like sickled corn The close-ranked foemen fall in toppling swaths: But still with hurried steps and steady steel They close the gaps--like madmen they press on!

With one wild yell they rush upon the wall!

Lo from our lines a sheet of crackling fire Scorches their grimy faces--back they reel And tumble--down and down--a writhing ma.s.s Of slaughter and defeat!

"Leaped on the wall A thousand Blues and swung their caps in air, Thundering their wild _Hurra!_ above the roar And crash of cannon;--victory was ours.

Back to his crest of hills the baffled foe Reluctant turned and fled the storm of death.

"The smoke of battle floated from the field, And lo the woodside piled with slaughter-heaps!

And lo the meadow dotted with the slain!

And lo the ranks of dead and dying men That fighting fell behind the broken wall!

"Only a handful of my men remained; The rest lay dead or wounded on the field; Nor skulked their captain, but by grace was spared.

Behold the miracle!--This Bible holds, Embedded in its leaves, the Rebel lead Aimed at my heart. But here a scratch and there-- Not worth the mention where so many fell.

Paul, foremost ever in the deadly hail, As if protected by a shield unseen, Escaped unscathed.

"We camped upon the hill.

Night hovered o'er us on her dusky wings; Then all along our lines upon the hills Blazed up the evening camp-fires. Facing us Beyond the smoke-robed valley sparkled up A chain of fires on Seminary Ridge.

A hum of mingled voices filled the air.

As when upon the vast, hoa.r.s.e-moaning sea And all along the rock-built somber sh.o.r.e Murmurs the menace of the coming storm-- The muttering of the tempest from afar, The plash and seethe of surf upon the sand, The roll of distant thunder in the heavens, Unite and blend in one prevailing voice-- So rose the mingled murmurs of our camps, So rose the groans and moans of wounded men Along the slope and valley, and so rolled From yonder frowning parallel of hills The muttered menace of our baffled foes; And so from camp to camp and hill to hill Rolled the deep mutter and the dreadful moan Of an hundred thousand voices blent in one.

"That night a mult.i.tude of friends and foes Slept soundly--but they slept to wake no more.

But few indeed among the living slept; We lay upon our arms and courted sleep With open eyes and ears: the fears and hopes That centered in the half-fought battle held The balm of slumber from our weary limbs.

Anon the rattle of the random fire Broke on our drowsy ears and startled us, As one is startled by some horrid dream; Whereat old veterans muttered in their sleep.

"Midnight had pa.s.sed, and I lay wakeful still, When Paul arose and sat upon the sward.

He said: 'I cannot sleep; unbidden thoughts That will not down crowd on my restless brain.

Captain, I know not how, but still I know That I shall see but one more sunrise. Morn Will bring the clash of arms--to-morrow's sun Will look upon unnumbered ghastly heaps And gory ranks of dead and dying men, And ere it sink beyond the western hills Up from this field will roll a mighty shout Victorious, echoed over all the land, Proclaiming joy to freemen everywhere.

And I shall fall. I cannot tell you how I know it--but I feel it in my soul.

I pray that death may spare me till I hear Our shout of _"Victory!"_ rolling o'er these hills: Then will I lay me down and die in peace.'

"I lightly said--'Sheer superst.i.tion, Paul; I'll wager a month's pay you'll live to fight A dozen battles yet. They ill become A gallant soldier on the battle field-- Such grandam superst.i.tions. You have fought Ever like a hero--do you falter now?'

"'Captain,' he said, 'I shall not falter now, But gladlier will I hail the rising sun.

Death has no terror for a heart like mine: Say what you may and call it what you will-- I know that I shall fall to rise no more Before the sunset of the coming day.

If this be superst.i.tion--still I know; If this be fear it will not hold me back.'

I answered:

"'Friend, I hope this prophecy Will prove you a false prophet; but, my Paul, Have you no farewells for your friends at home?

No message for a nearer, dearer one?'

"'None; there is none I knew in other days Knows where or what I am. So let it be.

If there be those--not many--who may care For one who cares so little for himself, Surely my soldier-name in the gazette Among the killed will bring no pang to them.

And then he laid himself upon the sward; Perhaps he slept--I know not, for fatigue O'ercame me and I slept.

"The picket guns At random firing wakened me. The morn Came stealing softly o'er the somber hills; Dark clouds of smoke hung hovering o'er the field.

Blood-red as risen from a sea of blood, The tardy sun as if in dread arose, And hid his face in the uprising smoke.

As when the pale moon, envious of the glow And gleam and glory of the G.o.d of day, Creeps in by stealth between the earth and him, Eclipsing all his glory, and the green Of hills and dales is changed to yellowish dun, So fell the strange and lurid light of morn.

And as I gazed I heard the hunger-cries Of vultures circling on their dusky wings Above the smoke-hid valley; then they plunged To gorge themselves upon the slaughter-heaps, As at the Buddhist temples in Siam Whereto the hideous vultures flock to feast With famished dogs upon the pauper dead.

"The day wore on. Two mighty armies stood Defiant--watching--dreading to a.s.sault; Each hoping that the other would a.s.sault And madly dash against its glittering steel.

As in the jungles of the Chambeze-- Glaring defiance with their fiery eyes-- Two tawny lions--rival monarchs--meet And fright the forest with their horrid roar; But ere they close in b.l.o.o.d.y combat crouch And wait and watch for vantage in attack; So on their bannered hills the opposing hosts, Eager to grapple in the tug of death, Waited and watched for vantage in the fight.

Noon came. The fire of pickets died away.

All eyes were turned to Seminary Ridge, For lo our sullen foemen--park on park-- Had ma.s.sed their grim artillery on our corps.