The true northerner., 1881-04-22

All 1! what's that? Down there where
meadow and forest blend we can see
quick puffs of blue smoke and here
comes the sound of muskets. A blue
cloud jnst begins to gather and rise
down there, when we catch sight OF
men. They are retreating back-com-
ing towards the orchard They fall
back slowly, hating at every fence to
tear it down, and to deliver n fire from
behind the scattered rails. Now we see
long, thin line of skirmishers emerge
from the woods and occupy the ground
as the other line loses it. Back! back!
forward forward and you might think
it pantomime if men did not fall out
of the line 'and drop heavily to the
earth.
There is stir around u.s. The silence
has been so deep that the jingle of n
sabre or the rattle of spur has made
men nervous. Out from the edge of the
woods, by the broad highway and across
the peaceful fields, pouis host Of armed
men. Regiment after regiment and line
after line, sweeping forward like mighty
waves-now undulating, like the course of
a serpent-now marching AZ steadily rs
ten-you cannot count the flags. Silk
and fringe and gold and bunting stream
over the heads of the men whose eyes are
fixed on the orchard and the hillside.
The stir deepens. There is q tramp
ing of feet, orders are given In quick,
sharp tones and three companies of in
fantry come up at a double-quick as n
support and fling themselves down under
the trees. Just n moment now to listen
to the notes of the blue-birds and rob-
bins--to SEQ the blue smoke creeping
lazily from the farmhouse chimney-to
note that the marching lines are almost
within musket-shot, and down over men
and guns and sabres and shot and shells
falls shower of pink and white apple
blossoms-emblems of purity and peace
Ayel rough hand brushes them off a
cannon which a moment later is carrying
death to score of men.
Boom! Boom! Boomw
Now the fight has begun. Men raise
their voices from whispers to mad shouts.
The smoke leaps up and stains the pure
blossoms. The flame springs forward
and scorches the green grass to yellow,
and then burns it to the roots.
Are the lines advancing?
You cannot see ten feet beyond the
guns, but you can hear Heavens but
how they shout and scream and shrek
and carse The guns are using grape
and canister, and the murderous mis-
siles cut men into shreds and scatter
flesh and blood over the living far be-
hind. We are driving them back hip
hip hur--v'
No! Here they arel Through the
the guns-spectres of death bursting
through and over the yapory barrier
which has reared itself between the liv-
ing and the dead. They shout in fury
They shrek in despairl They fight the
very flame which dissolves them aud they
pass the muzzles of the grim monsters!
Here on this acre of ground-here be-
meath the apple blossoms--is q hell on
earth. A hell in which smoke and fame
and curse and wall and blood and wounds
and death are so mingled that those out
side of it only hear one terrible and APP
palling roar, as If some fierce beast had
received its death-wound
Shoot to the right or leftover the
guns or under them. Strike where you
will, but strike to destroy! Now the
hell surges down even to the windows OF
the old farm -house-now back under the
apple trees and beyond it. Dead men
are under the ponderous wheels of the
guns-mad devils are slashing and shoot
ing across the barrels. No one seems to
know friend from foe. Shoot Slash
Kill! And -
But the hell is dissolved. The smoke
is lifting, shrieks and screams growing
fainter, and twenty or thirty living men
pull the bodies of the dead away from
the guns and renew the slaughter against
the lines marching across the meadow.
Three hundred dead and wounded on the
single acre! Blood on the grass, blood
on tire and spoke and gun! Arms hacked
of-brains scattered against the trees
skulls cleft in twain, and bloody fingers
fast clenched into blood-red grass!
They tell of war and glory Look over
this hell's acre and find the latter. De