Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War | Page 4

off

In the glades by the Fort's big gun.
We mourn the loss of colonel
Morrison,
Killed while cheering his regiment on.
Their far
sharpshooters try our stuff;
And ours return them puff for puff:
'Tis
diamond-cutting-diamond work.
Woe on the rebel cannoneer
Who
shows his head. Our fellows lurk
Like Indians that waylay the deer

By the wild salt-spring.--The sky is dun,
Fordooming the fall of
Donelson.
Stern weather is all unwonted here.
The people of the country own

We brought it. Yea, the earnest North
Has elementally issued forth

To storm this Donelson._
FURTHER.

A yelling rout
Of ragamuffins broke profuse
To-day from out the
Fort.
Sole uniform they wore, a sort
Of patch, or white badge (as

you choose)
Upon the arm. But leading these,
Or mingling, were
men of face
And bearing of patrician race,
Splendid in courage and
gold lace--
The officers. Before the breeze
Made by their charge,
down went our line;
But, rallying, charged back in force,
And broke
the sally; yet with loss.
This on the left; upon the right
Meanwhile
there was an answering fight;
Assailants and assailed reversed.
The
charge too upward, and not down--
Up a steep ridge-side, toward its
crown,
A strong redoubt. But they who first
Gained the fort's base,
and marked the trees
Felled, heaped in horned perplexities,
And
shagged with brush; and swarming there
Fierce wasps whose sting
was present death--
They faltered, drawing bated breath,
And felt it
was in vain to dare;
Yet still, perforce, returned the ball,
Firing into
the tangled wall
Till ordered to come down. They came;
But left
some comrades in their fame,
Red on the ridge in icy wreath
And
hanging gardens of cold Death.
But not quite unavenged these fell;

Our ranks once out of range, a blast
Of shrapnel and quick shell

Burst on the rebel horde, still massed,
Scattering them pell-mell.

(This fighting--judging what we read--
Both charge and
countercharge,
Would seem but Thursday's told at large,
Before in
brief reported.--Ed.)
Night closed in about the Den
Murky and
lowering. Ere long, chill rains.
A night not soon to be forgot,

Reviving old rheumatic pains
And longings for a cot.
No blankets, overcoats, or tents.
Coats thrown aside on the warm
march here--
We looked not then for changeful cheer;
Tents, coats,
and blankets too much care.
No fires; a fire a mark presents;
Near
by, the trees show bullet-dents.
Rations were eaten cold and raw.

The men well soaked, come snow; and more--
A midnight sally.
Small sleeping done--
But such is war;
No matter, we'll have Fort Donelson._
"Ugh! ugh!
'Twill drag along--drag along"
Growled a cross patriot
in the throng,
His battered umbrella like an ambulance-cover


Riddled with bullet-holes, spattered all over.
"Hurrah for Grant!"
cried a stripling shrill;
Three urchins joined him with a will,
And
some of taller stature cheered.
Meantime a Copperhead passed; he
sneered.
"Win or lose," he pausing said,
"Caps fly the same; all
boys, mere boys;
Any thing to make a noise.
Like to see the list of
the dead;
These '_craven Southerners_' hold out;
Ay, ay, they'll give
you many a bout"
"We'll beat in the end, sir"
Firmly said one in
staid rebuke,
A solid merchant, square and stout.
"And do you think
it? that way tend, sir"
Asked the lean Cooperhead, with a look
Of
splenetic pity. "Yes, I do"
His yellow death's head the croaker shook:

"The country's ruined, that I know"
A shower of broken ice and
snow,
In lieu of words, confuted him;
They saw him hustled round
the corner go,
And each by-stander said--Well suited him.
Next day another crowd was seen
In the dark weather's sleety spleen.

Bald-headed to the storm came out
A man, who, 'mid a joyous
shout,
Silently posted this brief sheet:
GLORIOUS VICTORY OF THE FLEET!
FRIDAY'S GREAT EVENT!
THE ENEMY'S WATER-BATTERIES BEAT!
WE SILENCED EVERY GUN!
THE OLD COMMODORE'S COMPLIMENTS SENT
PLUMP
INTO DONELSON!
"Well, well, go on!" exclaimed the crowd
To him who thus much
read aloud.
"That's all," he said. "What! nothing more"
"Enough for
a cheer, though--hip, hurrah!"
"But here's old Baldy come again--"

"More news!"--And now a different strain.
(Our own reporter a dispatch compiles,
As best he may, from varied

sources.)
Large re-enforcements have arrived--
Munitions, men, and horses--

For Grant, and all debarked, with stores.
The enemy's field-works extend six miles--
The gate still hid; so well
contrived.
Yesterday stung us; frozen shores
Snow-clad, and through the drear
defiles
And over the desolate ridges blew
A Lapland wind.
The main affair
Was a good two hours' steady fight
Between our
gun-boats and the Fort.
The Louisville's wheel was smashed outright.

A hundred-and-twenty-eight-pound ball
Came planet-like through
a starboard port,
Killing three men, and wounding all
The rest of
that gun's crew,
(The captain of the gun was cut in two);
Then
splintering and ripping went--
Nothing could be its continent.
In the
narrow stream the Louisville,
Unhelmed, grew lawless; swung
around,
And would have thumped and drifted, till
All the fleet was
driven aground,
But for the timely order to retire.
Some damage from our fire, 'tis thought,
Was done the
water-batteries of the Fort.
Little else took place that day,
Except the field artillery in line

Would now and then--for love, they say--
Exchange a valentine.
The old sharpshooting going on.
Some plan
afoot as yet unknown;
So Friday closed round Donelson.
LATER.
Great suffering through the night--
A stinging one. Our heedless boys

Were nipped like blossoms. Some dozen
Hapless wounded men

were frozen.
During day being struck down out of sight,
And
help-cries