Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1880-07-01
Miseellaneons &eadiug,
SUPPORTING THE GUNS.

SUPPORTING THE GUNS.
Did you ever see battery take position ?
1t hasn't the thrill of cavalry charge, nor
the grimness of line Of bayonets moving
slowly and determinedly on, but there is a
peculiar excitement about it that makes old
veterans rise in the saddle and cheer.
We have been fighting at the edge Of the
woods. Every cartridge box has been emp
tied once and more, and a fourth of the bri-
gade has melted away in dead, wounded and
missing Not cheer is heard in the whole
brigade. We know that we are being driv-
en- foot by foot, and that when we break back
once more the line will 60 to pieces and the
enemy will pour through the gap.
Here comes helpl
Down the crowded highway gallops bat
terry, Withdrawn from some other position to
save ours. The field fence is scattered while
you could count thirty, and the guns rush
for the hill behind us. Six horses to piece
three riders to each gun. Over dry bitches
where farmer would not drive wagon,
through clumps of bushes, over logs foot
thick, every horse on the gallop, every rider
lashing his team and yelling-the sight be-
hind US makes us forget the foe in front.
The guns jump two feet high as the heavy
wheels strike rock or log, but not horse
slackens his pace, not cannoneer loses his
seat. Six. guns, six caisons, sixty horses,
eighty men, race for the brow of the hill as if
him who reached it first was to be knighted.
A moment ago the battery was confused
mob. We look again and the six guns are
in position, the detached .horses hurrying
away, the ammunition chests open, and along
our line runs the command; "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 and 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 as we
form line Of battle behind the guns and lie
down. What grim cool fellows those cannon
eers are! Every man is perfect machine.
Bullets plash dust in 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 again as before.
Every gun is using short.fuse shell. The
ground shakes and trembles-the roar shuts
out all sounds from battle line three miles
long, and the shells 60 shrieking into the
swamp to cut trees short of-to NOW great
gaps in the bushes-to hunt out and shatter
and maDgle men until their corpses cannot
be recognized as human You would think
tornado was bowling through the forest,
followed by billows of fire, and yet men live
through it-aye! press forward to capture
the battery! We can hear their shouts as
they form for the rush. E ...
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 wickedest sound in war,
but nothing makes the flesh crawl like the
demoniac singing, purring, whistling grape
shot and the serpent like hiss of canister.
Mems legs are not shot through, but torn of.
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 canister NOW swath and pile
the dead on top of each other.
Through the smoke we see a swarm of men.
1t is not battle line, but mob of men des-
perate enough to bathe their bayonets in the
fame of the guns The 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. Twen'
ty men out of the battery are down, and the
firing is interrupted. The foe accept it as a
sign of wavering, and come rushing on. They
are not ten feet away when the guns give
them last shot. The discharge picks liv.
ing men off their feet and throws them in
to a swamp, blackened bloody mass.
Up now, as the enemy are among the guns
There is silence of ten seconds, and then
the fash and roar of more than 5000 mus
kets, and a rush forward with bayonets.
For whatS 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 guns cannot move until the
blockade of dead is removed. Men cannot
pass from the caisson to the guns without
climbing over the winrows of dead. Every
gun and wheel is smeared with blood-every
foot of grass has its horrible stain.
Historians write Of the glory Of war. Bu-
rial parties saw murder where historians saw
glory.-Detroit Free Press. ~.