The Citizen-Soldier | Page 6

hourly.
When I returned to make my report, I was curtly informed that no
report was desired, as the plan had been changed.
A little after midnight the Colonel returned from head-quarters with
important information, which he desired to communicate to the
regiment. The men were, therefore, ordered to turn out, and came
hesitatingly and sleepily from their tents. They looked like shadows as
they gathered in the darkness about their chieftain. It was the hour
when graveyards are supposed to yawn, and the sheeted dead to walk
abroad. The gallant Colonel, with a voice in perfect accord with the
solemnity of the hour, and the funereal character of the scene,
addressed us, in substance, as follows:
"Soldiers of the Third: The assault on the enemy's works will be made
in the early morning. The Third will lead the column. The secessionists
have ten thousand men and forty rifled cannon. They are strongly
fortified. They have more men and more cannon than we have. They
will cut us to pieces. Marching to attack such an enemy, so intrenched
and so armed, is marching to a butcher-shop rather than to a battle.
There is bloody work ahead. Many of you, boys, will go out who will
never come back again."

As this speech progressed my hair began to stiffen at the roots, and a
chilly sensation like that which might ensue from the unexpected and
clammy touch of the dead, ran through me. It was hard to die so young
and so far from home. Theological questions which before had attracted
little or no attention, now came uppermost in our minds. We thought of
mothers, wives, sweethearts--of opportunities lost, and of good advice
disregarded. Some soldiers kicked together the expiring fragments of a
camp-fire, and the little blaze which sprang up revealed scores of pallid
faces. In short, we all wanted to go home.
When a boy I had read Plutarch, and knew something of the great
warriors of the old time; but I could not, for the life of me, recall an
instance wherein they had made such an address to their soldiers on the
eve of battle. It was their habit, at such a time, to speak encouragingly
and hopefully. With all due respect, therefore, for the superior rank and
wisdom of the Colonel, I plucked him by the sleeve, took him one side,
and modestly suggested that his speech had had rather a depressing
effect on the regiment, and had taken that spirit out of the boys so
necessary to enable them to do well in battle. I urged him to correct the
mistake, and speak to them hopefully. He replied that what he had said
was true, and they should know the truth.
The morning dawned; but instead of being called upon to lead the
column, we were left to the inglorious duty of guarding the camp, while
other regiments moved forward toward the enemy's line. In half an hour,
in all probability, the work of destruction will commence. I began this
memoranda on the evening of the 10th, and now close it on the
morning of the 11th.
11. At 10 A. M. we were ordered to the front; passed quite a number of
regiments on our way thither, and finally took position not far from the
enemy's works. We were now at the head of the column. A small brook
crossed the road at this point, and the thick woods concealed us from
the enemy. A few rods further on, a bend in the road gave us a good
view of the entire front of his fortifications. Major Keifer and a few
other gentlemen, in their anxiety to get more definite information in
regard to the position of the secessionists, and the extent of their works,

went up the road, and were saluted by a shot from their battery. We
expected every moment to receive an order to advance. After a time,
however, we ascertained that Rosecrans, with a brigade, was seeking
the enemy's rear by a mountain path, and we conjectured that, so soon
as he had reached it, we would be ordered to make the assault in front.
It was a dark, gloomy day, and the hours passed slowly.
Between two and three o'clock we heard shots in the rear of the
fortifications; then volleys of musketry, and the roar of artillery. Every
man sprang to his feet, assured that the moment for making the attack
had arrived. General McClellan and staff came galloping up, and a
thousand faces turned to hear the order to advance; but no order was
given. The General halted a few paces from our line, and sat on his
horse listening to the guns, apparently in doubt as to what to do; and as
he sat there with indecision stamped