Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1854-12-28
War.

The following extracts from a letter pub
lished in one of the English papers, give the
experience of soldier in battle. Truly, the
battle field is school for the development of
the worst passions Of human nature -
Charge. Oh, such a charge! Never
think Of the gallop and trot which you have
often witnessed in the Phenix Park, when you
desire to form notion of genuine blood-hot
all-mad charge, such as that have come out
ot-with few lance prods, minus some gold
lace, helmet chain, and Brown Bills (the
charger,) right ear. From the moment we
dashed at the enemy, whose position, and so
forth, you doubtless know as much about as
can tell you, knew nothing, but that was
impelied by some irresistible force onward,
and by some invisible and imperceptible infu-
ence to crush every obstacle which stumbled
before my good sword and brave old charger
l never in my life experienced such a sublime
sensation as in the moment Of the charge
Some fellows talk about being demoniac' l
know this, that it was such as made me a
match for any two ordinary men, and gave me
such an amount of glorious indifference as to
life, as | thought it impossible to be master Of
1t would do your Celtic heart good to hear the
most magnificent cheer with which we dashed
into what P W calls the gully
scrimage.' Forward dash - bang clank,
and there we were in the midst of such smoke,
cheer and clatter, as never before stunned a
mortal's ear. 1t was glorious Down, one
by one, aye, two by two, fell the thick skulled
and over-numerous Cossacks, and other lads
Of the tribe of old Nick. Down, too, alas,
fell many hero with a warm Celtic heart,
and more than one fell screaming loud for vic
tory. could not pause. 1t was all push ,
wheel, phrensy, strike, and down, down, down,
they went Twice was unhorsed, and more
than once had to grip my sword tighter, the
blood of foes streaming down over the hilt,
and running up my very sleeve.
Wearied aoah Slaughter. l cannot depict
my feelings when we returned. | sat down
completely exhausted and unable to eat, though
deadly hungry. All my uniform, my hands,
were bespattered with blood 1t was that Of the
enemy Grand idea But my feelings
they were full of that exultation which it is
impossible to describe. At least twelve of
the Russians were sent wholly out of the
way Of the war; by my good steel alone, and
at least as many more put on the passage to
that peaceful exit by the same excellent weap-
on. So also can others say. What thing
to reflect on have almost grown soldier
philosopher, and most probably will one of
these days, if the bullets which are flying
about SO abundantly give me time to brush up.
Getting Horses No novel ever had sham
hero who comes up to the realities | have wit
messed. One of my troop, for instance, had
his horse shot under him in the melee
Bloody wars, he roared, this won't do y
right at Russian he ran, pulled him from
his horse by the sword hand in the most extra
ordinary mlnner-then deliberately cutting off
his head as he came down, vaulted into the
saddle, and turning the Russian charger
against its late friends, fought his way. This
took less time to DO than to tell it. | saw
another of our fellows unhorsed, and wounded,
creep under a Russian charger and run the