The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1880-06-29
NUMBER 20.
supporting tho Guns.
Detroit Free Press

Supporting tho Gums.
Detroit Free Press.
Did you ever see o battery fake posi-.
tion2
1t hasn't the tbrilf6t cavalry charge,
nor the primness .ofts line of bayahets
moving slowly and aetarnipefly on. but
there is pecuiar excite,nelst. abnul at
that makes old veterans rise in III sassad-
dies and cheer -S''' - 80
We have been fighting at the edge of
the woods Every caitridge-box has
been emp,ied once and more, ana q
fourth Of the brigade had melted away
In dead and wounded and missing. 7 Not
a cheer is heard in the whole brigade.
We know that we are being driven foot
by foot, and thst when we break lack
once more the line will 70 to pieces and
the enemy will pour through the gap.
$ Here comes help I 81, s,,s.s z . 81.
Down the crowded highway ~
battery, withdrawn from some other po-.
sition to save ours. The field fence Is
scattered while you could count thirty,
and the guns rushed for the hill behind
u.s. Six horses to piece--three riders
to each gun Over dry bitches where a
farmer would not drive a wagon, through
cumps of bushes, over logs foot thick,
every horse on the gallop, every rider
lashing his team and yellipg-the sight
behind us makes US forget the foe in
front. The guns jump two feet high as
the heavy wheels strike rock OF log, hut
not horse slackens his pace, not can
noneer loses his seat. Six guns, six cais.
sons, sky horses, eighty men race for
the brow of the hill as if he who reached
il Fl st would be knighted.
A moment ago the battery WAS con.
fused mob. We look again, and the sir
guns are in position, the detached hor1
ses hurrying away, the ammunition chests
open, and along our line runs the com.
mand, "Give them one more volley and
fall back to support the guns" We
have scarcely obeyed when boom!
boom! boom! opens the battery, and
jets of fire jump down md scorch the
green trees under which we fought and
despaired
The shattered old brigade has chance
to breathe for the first time in three
hours rs we form line OF battle behind
the guns and lie down What grim.
cool fellows those canboneers >are!
Every man Is a perfect machine. Bull
lets plash dust into their faces, but they
do not vince. Bullets sing over and
around them, but they do not dodge.
There goes one to the earth. shot through
the head as he sponged his gun. The
machinery loses just one beat--misses
just one cog in the wheel-and then
works away again aseberore.
Every gun is using shol.fuse shell.
The ground shakes and .trembles es--tha
roar shuts out all sounds from battle-
line three miles long, and the shells &c
shrieking into the swamp to cut trees short
off-to NOW great gaps in the bushes
to hunt out and shatter and mangle men
until their corpse can no, be recognized
as human. You would think a tornado
was bowling through the forest, followed
by pillows OF fire, and yet men live
through it-aye! press forward to csp-
ture the battery! We can hear their
shouts as they form for the rush.
Now the shells are changed for grape
and canister, and the guns are served SO
fast that all reports blend into one mighty
roar. The shrek OF shell is the wicks
edest sound in war, but nothing makes
the flesh crawl like the demoniac singing,
purring, whistling grape shot and the
serlent-like hiss Of canister. Mems
legs and arms are not shot through, but
torn off Heads are torn from bodies,
and bodies cut in two. A round shot or
shell takes two men out of the ranks
as it crashes through. Grape and cam
lister NOW swath and pile the dead on
top each other.
Through the smoke we see swarm'of
men. II is not battle line, but mob
of men desperate enough to bathe their
bayonets in the fame Of the guns. Tbs
guns leap from The ground, almost as
they are depressed on the foe. and shrieks
and screams and shouts blend into one
awful and steady cry. Twenty men out
on the battery are down, and the firing
is interrupted. The foe accepts it as
sign.of wavering and come rushing on.
They are not ten feet away when the
guns give them last shot. That dis
charge picks living men off their feet and
throws them into the swamp,a Elackened,
bloody mass.
3 Up now, as the enemy are among the
guns There is silence of ten seconds,
and then the fash. and roar Of more than
three thousapd muskets, and rush for
ward With hayonets. For whatP Neither
on the right, nor left, nor in front OF us
is living foe! There are corpses around
US which have been struck by three, four
and even SIX bullets, and no where on
this acre of ground is wounded man!
The wheels of the gurs can not move
until the blockade Of dead is removed.
Men can not pass from caissop to gun
without climbing over winrows Of dead.
Every gun and wheel is smeared with
blood--every foot of grass has its hor-
rible stain.
Historians write OF the glory Of war.
Bcrial parties saw murder where hlsto-
rians saw glory.