The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1874-03-25
BATTLE ny MOONLIGHT.

lows Hall, on the 21st ult., Maj. Nor
ris delivered what we pronounce the
best description of night attack we
ever heard. Numbers of our brave
boys will recall that moon-lit May
night so richly and truthfully pictured
by the eloquent Norris, and we are
happy that we can now redeem our
promise fnade last week to give it to
our readers. II will rank high among
the poetry and literature of our civil
war:
Many of you. fellow soldiers, re-
member those terrible nights when
Hooker was contending with Lee in
the wilds of Charlottesville. How
full of peril and slaughter were those
nights, and how beautiful, too, they
we're! Even yet | can see the tremu-
lous shimmering beams of the moon
stealing down through the boughs of
the trees, afiording. hero and there, a
glimpse of the anxious, expectant faces
gathered beneath their shadows, and
peering into the night for sight of
the foe, while out upon the open field
in front, where the moons pale light
lays in silvery silence, its rays glance
from the glisteDing arms of that foe
keeping the same quiet watch. Our
Major is at my elbow, and asks if l
observe how peaceful and calm it is.
Lying side by side, we commune to-
gether 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 wbippoorwill as it breaks
upon the death like stiffness, snd now
watching the shadows as they wierdly
dance over the ground to the music of
the breeze singing in the trees overhead
1t is a lovely, peaceful scene, where all
nature seems in sweet repose, and yet
here are gathered two mighty armies,
with all their cruel enginery of var
shotted and ready, standing like two
huge mastif1s, with nerves strung, teeth
set, and the eyes glaring into the un-
certain light, waiting for chance to
grapple with each other in death strug-
gle. Suddenly the sharp report of a
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 busts OH
the night wild, demonic yell, Hi!
hi! hi ! until it deepens into monot-
onous refrain. 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"
Hill hi! hi!-the earth seems to have
opened to let forth legion of fiends,
SO unearthly is that cry-and, to ac-
company it with a fitting chorus, a
score of cannon join the tumult and
shell the awful din. Shooting 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
aud 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 re.
spouse. "Lie low" rings from behind
aid, as we hug the earth again, lurid
blaze lights up the woods and field
and from six iron throats is hurled
screeching over our heads, a storm
of shot and shell that, plunging,
ploughing 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, a gleam Of
light flashes along our PROSTATE lines
the grey ranks melt before the wither-
ing fire, and, with loud cheers, regi
ment after regiment leaps from its GOV,
er and filings ITSELF in solid lines, upon
the foe. There is short, sharp bloody
struggle, 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 sigh
ing of the wind sounds more sadly
still as the music of its plant mingles
with the groans and melting cries o.
the wounded and dying.
Three times in one night did that
dreadful yell herald the coming of the
foe; three times did they sweep ovel
that field; and three times, like a.
phantoms at the approach of day, die
they waste away before the scathing
consuming fire of our guns. How
; many young dead heroes we're strewr
in that field and woods on that fata
night, lying thick together, with tn,
moons cold light tenderly kissing