Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1874-03-27
BATTLE BY MOONLIGHT
VIVID DESCRIPTION OF A NIGHT SCENE
AT CHANCELLORSvILEE
[From the Columbia (Pa.) Spy.1 I

lHiOui tne OOiunOia \fa.) spy
At the Campfire in Odd Fellows Hall.
on the 21st ult., Maj. Norris delivered
what we pronounce the most vivid descrip-
of night attack we ever heard. Numbers
of our brave boys will recall that moon-lit
May night so richly and truthfuIly pictured
by the eloquent Norris, and we are happy
that we can now redeem our promise made
last week to give it to our readers. 1t will
rank high among the poetry and literature
of our civil war:
MANY of you, fellow soldiers, remem-
Ter those terrible nights when Hooker was
contending with Lee in the wilds of Chan
cellorsville. How full of peril and slaugh-
ter were those nights, and how beautiful,
too, they were! Even yet 1 can see the
tremulous, shimmering beams of the moon
stealing down through the boughs of the
trees. affording, here and there, a glimpse
of the anxious, expectant faces gathered
the night 6ir f6r fh6f fshig6f Of the foe, while out
upon the open field in front, where the
moons pale light lay in silvery silence, its
rays glance from the glistening arms of
that foe keeping the same quiet watch.
Our Major is at my elbow, and asks if
observe how peaceful and calm 1t is. Lying
side by side, we commune together in
whispers, afraid to hear the sound of our
voices-now pointing TO the delicious light
as it trembles on the leaves now startled
by the shrill cry of the whippoorwill as it
breaks upon the death-like stiffness, and
now watching the shadows as they wierdIy
dance over the ground to the music of the
breeze signing in the trees overhead. 1t is
lovely, peaceful scene, where ali nature
seems in sweet repose, and yet here are
gathered two mighty armies, with all their
cruel enginery of war shotted and ready,
standing like two huge mastilfs, with nerves
strung, teeth set, and the eyes glaring into
the uncertain light, waiting for a chance
to grapple with each other in death strug-
gle. Suddenly the sharp report of musket
awakens the echoes around. A strange
quiver thrills our frame the 'poorwill stills
its notes the shadows seem To cease their
play, and the winds to be hushed and
then there bursts on the night a wild, de-
moniac yell, Hi hi hi Heavens, you
know what that is" almost Kisses the
Major into our ear the enemy are moving
on US it is their terrible battle cry" Hi
hi hi the earth seems to have opened
to let forth legion of Gends, so unearthly
is that cry-and, to accompany it with
fitting chorus, score of cannon join the
tumult and swell the awful din. Shouting
and yelling, we hear them coming, while
the earth shakes beneath their hurried
tramp. At this instant the moon peeps
from beneath a passing cloud, and food
of light reveals the grey lines sweeping
madly over the field, their eyes ablaze,
their bayonets poised, and their hands on
the fatal trigger. ''Steady, men ready,
but reserve your fire." shouts the little
Major, as we spring to our feet and the
sharp click, click of the gunlock is the
quick response. ''Lie low," rings from
behind. and as we hug the earth again, a
lurid blaze lights up the woods and field,
and from six iron throats is hurled, Kissing
and screeching over our heads, storm of
shot and shell that. plunging, plowing
along, open great, bloody gashes in the
coming columns. Still the hi hi ! hi
rings unbroken and defiant, upon the
night; but then the raised muskets are
leveled, gleam of light flashes along our
prostrate lines, the grey ranks melt before
the whitening fire, ard, with loud cheers,
regiment after regiment leaps from its cover
and filings itself, in solid lines, upon the
foe. There is short, sharp, bloody strug-
gle, and the yell is heard no more and all
is still again. The moonbeams fit about
as if naught had disturbed their play, while
the melancholy signing of the wind sounds
more sadly still as the music of its plaint
mingles with the groans and melting cries
of the wounded and dying.
Three times in one night did that dread
full yell herald the coming of the foe three
times did they sweep over that field and
three times. like as phantoms at the ap-
proach of day, did they waste away before
the scathing, consuming fire of our guns.
How many young dead heroes were strewn
in that field and woods on that fatal night.
lying thick together, with the moons cold
light tenderly kissing their pale, CHASTITY
faces, upturned to the sky; and as each
succeeding May moon darts its penetrat-
ing rays through the thick foliage of the
same wilds, and summons the shadows to
their selfish sport, they hold their midnight
revels over the straight, green graves of
scores OF these dead heroes, who, unknown
and forgotten, quietly sleep, awaiting the
final muster on High.