Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1864-02-25
Ghoiee Iistellang.
From the Chicago Evening Journal.l
After the Battle.
BY BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR.

A battle and q furnace are alike. Itis won
derful how dull natures brighten 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 transhgur-
ed, his heart in his hand and his feet 10 the
realm of heroic grandeur But sh, when the
fire is out and the Scared earth heaped with
rigid clay, the black mouths Of the guns
speechless, mighty hammers 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 fash
of sunshine. and you wander among the
dull remainders, the dead embers of the in.
tensest life and glow that swept your soul
out, only yesterday, and, drfted with the
skirmish line, you begin to know what these
words mean, "after the battle"
1t 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 induring indurating into
histor-, and yet feel like taking up the
story just where left it, on Wednesday
night at sunset, when our flags tapped like
eagles WINGS and the wild cry OF triumph
quivered along the mountain. Standing on
the edge of the field in the moonlight, calm
as "God' acre." stretches the rough valley
that, but an hour before, Jared with the
rush and whirl of battle. From. away be-
yOnd the ridge, indeed, three miles out to
Chickamauga 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 in with their niangled
burdens; no sigh, no gfoan, nothing but the
y A.
er tell you with what warm feeling at the
heart | looked up and saw the Federal fires
kindling like new constellation upon Mis-
sion Ridge; they were as welcome as dawn
iag day to eyes that have watched the night
out. The old baleful glare from the rebel
camp aud signal light was qucnched with
something thicker than water, and Chatta-
noOga was at peace.
It is strange that battle almost always
lies between two breadths of sleep the
dreamless slumber into which men always
| 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 morn
ing, bright and beautiful. You go out to
the field, and you keep saying over and over,
''after the battle-after the battle. Men
prone upon their faces in deaths deep
abasement; here one, his head pillowed up
on his folded arms; there one, his cheek
pressed upon o stone, as was Jacobs al
Bethel; yonder one, his fingers stiffened
round his musket. Now you pass where 9
butternut and q true blue have gone. dowr
together, the arm OF the one flung over the
other; where young boy Of fifteen lies fac,
upward, both hands clasped over his heart
The sun has touched the frost that whiten
ed his hair, as if he had grown old In night
and it hangs like tears fresh fallen upon hi
cheeks; where lieutenant grasps bush
as If he died vainly feeling for little holt
upon earth and life; where stained trai
leads you to a shelter behind q rock, ant
there dead captain who had crept ava,
out Of sight and fallen asleep where rebel
and true hear ts lie in short winrows, as |
death had begun the harvest and had wear
ed of the work. And so, through the va
ley and up the ridge, in every attitude Ii
the unburied dead; lie just as they fell /
the glow of battle. And those faces are nc
as you would think; hardly one distorte
with any passion; almost all white and cali
as Ben Adhem's dream OF peace; man
frightened with something like smile;
few strangely beautiful. Wounded one
that have escaped the moonlight scare
have lain silently waiting for morning with
out murmur or complaint; glad they al
alive, not grieved that they are wounded
for "Did we not take the Ridge?' they sa,
Thus did the old soldierly spirit ofone fas
up like an expiring candle, and 60 ougl
right there on the field as he spoke; he die
with the last word on his lips, and "went U
higher"
N 1 said something of taking the backwa,
| \ =. Al L.. IL