The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1863-12-28
AFTER THE RATTLE.
BY BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR.

CAin tptb0En 80DE nc IuOo eusIoonsSS
brighten 70 tie psak Of the rough raften
with : strange beauty. When the ere is
out, and the black and ragged masses Of
dull iron lie dead upon the ground. with
q dumb and stubborn resistance. who
would dream that they ever leaped with
life aud lighsy
A battle and furnace are alike. It is
wonderful how dull natures brighton and
grow costly in the glow of battle; how
the sterling worth and wealth, there are
in them. shine out, and the common man
stands trans6gured. his heart in his hand
and his foot 10 the realm of heroic gran.
deur. But nh, when the FIRE is out, and
tie SCARED earth is heaped with rigid
clay, the black mouths Of the guns
speeches., mighty hsmmers and no hands,
the flags furled, the wild hurrah died
away, and all the splendid action Of the
charge vanished from the rugged field
like q last fash of sunshine, and you
wander among the dull remainders, the
dead embers of the intensest life and glow
that swept your soul out, only yesterday.
and dritted it on with the skirmish line,
you begin to know what those words
mean, "after the battle"
Ii is days since great waves of gallant
life dashed against Mission Ridge and
swept up and over it in surges days,
since tried to tell you how it all looked;
SO many days that it is even now indura-
Ting into history. and yet, / feel like TAX
ing up the story just where left it, on
Wednesday night at sunset, when our
flags tapped like eagles wings, aud the
wild cry of triumph quivered along the
mountain. Standing on the edge Of the
field in the moonlight, calm as "God's
acre. stretches the rough valley that, but
an hour before, Jared with the rush aud
whirl Of the battle. From away beyond
the Ridge, indeed, three miles out to
Chicksmauga Station, the dropping shots
from Sheridan's guns family punctuate
the silence, but here, listen as you will,
you can hear no sound but the click of
ambulance wheels, slowly rolling 10 with
their mangled burdens; no sigh, no groan,
nothing but the sobbing lapse Of the Ten
nessee. can never tell you With what
a warm feeling at the heart looked up
and saw the Federal fires kindling like .
new constellation upon Mission Ridge;
they were as welcome as dawning day to
eyes that have watched the night out
The old baleful glare from rebel camp
and signal light was quenched with some
thing thicker than water, and Chattanoo
"a was at peace.
1t is strange that battle almost always
lies between two breadths Of sleep: the
dreamless slumber into which men fall
upon its eve; the calm repose they sink
in at its end. Night fairly held its breath
above the camps; the wing of silence was
over them all. Then came Thursday
morning bright aud beautiful. You go
out to the field; and you keep saying over
and over, CATER the battle-after the bat
tle." Men prone upon their faces in
deaths deep abasement here one, his
head pillowed upon his folded arms; there
one. his cheek pressed upon stone. as
was Jacobs and Bethel; yonder one. his
fingers stiffened round his musket Now
you pass where butternut and true
blue have gone down together. the arm Of
the one fung over the other; where
young boy Of fifteen lies face upward, both
hands clasptd over his heart. The sun
has touched the frost that whitened his
hair, as if he had grown old in a night,
and il hangs like tears fresh. fallen upon
his cheeks; where Lieutenant grasps a
bush, as ifhe died vsinly feeling for lit.
tie hold upon earth and life; where
stained trail leads you to shelter behind
rock, and there a dead captain who
bad crept away out of sight and fallen
asleep; where rebels and true hearts lie
in short windrows, as if Death bad begun
the harvest and had wearied OF the work.
And SO. through the valley and up the
Ridge, in every attitude lie the unburied
dead lie just as they fell in the glow Of
the battle. Aud those faces are not as
you would think ; hardly one distorted
with any passion; almost all white and
calm as Ben Adhem's dream Of peace (;
many frightened With something like .
smile; few strangely beautiful Wound
ed ones that escaped the moonlight
search have lain silently waiting for
morning, without murmur or com plant
glad taey are alive; not grieved, they
are wounded, for ''did we not take the
Ridge r. they say thus did the old SOL
dierly spirit Of one fash up like an expir
ing candle, aud 60 out right there on the
field as he spoke; he died with the last
word on his lips. aud "went up higher"
| said something Of taking the back
ward step and retracing the ground made
classic by thousand deeds Of valor il
is work beyond the narrow verge of a
writer of letters, but while aband onine il
to more ambitious hands / cannot deny
myself the privilege Of recording two or
three incidents. Colonel Wiley, of the
4sh Ohio, fell terribly wounded 1t the first
line OF rifle pits, and General Hazen rode
up, with the words, II hope you are not
badly wounded" "Do you think we'll
make it," asked the Colonel. 81 do" was
the reply. "That's enough" said the
gallant officer, II can stand this p and
and here he lay bleeding and content, and
the tide Of the battle rolled on.
h. A division General turned ahruptlv 70
me in the course of . desultory CONVEX. |
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