Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War | Page 4

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 drowned in roaring noise,?They were left just where the skirmish shifted--?Left in dense underbrush now-drifted.?Some, seeking to crawl in crippled plight,?So stiffened--perished.
Yet in spite?Of pangs for these, no heart is lost.?Hungry, and clothing stiff with frost,?Our men declare a nearing sun?Shall see the fall of Donelson.?And this they say, yet not disown?The dark redoubts round Donelson,?And ice-glazed corpses, each a stone--?A sacrifice to Donelson;?They swear it, and swerve not, gazing on?A flag, deemed black, flying from Donelson.?Some of the wounded in the wood?Were cared for by the foe last night,?Though he could do them little needed good,?Himself being all in shivering plight.?The rebel is wrong, but human yet;?He's got a heart, and thrusts a bayonet.?He gives us battle with wondrous will--?The bluff's a perverted Bunker Hill._
The stillness stealing through the throng?The silent thought and dismal fear revealed;
They turned and went,?Musing on right and