St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1886-02-13
PICTURES OF THE WAR.
Interesting Contributions to Literature
Of the Rebellion.
Nights OF Alarm and Carnage whel
Hooker Was Contending With Lee
In the wflds OF ChancenorsviIle--
Young Heroes Stricken TO Earth.

Many soldiers Of the late war remember
those terrible nights when Hooker was con-
tending with Lee in the wilds of Chancel
lorsville- How full of peril and slaughter
were those nights, and how beautiful, too,
they were. Even yet / can see the trem-
ulouS, shimmering beams of the moon
stealing down through the bOughs OF the
trees, affording here and there glimpse of
the anxious, expectant faces gathered be
meath their shadows, and peerlng 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 giistening arms
Of that foe keeping the same silent
watch. Our major is at our elbow, and
asks if / observe how peaceful and calm
1t is. Lying side by side, we COM
mune together in whispers, afraid
to hear the sound of our own
voices-nOw pointing to the moonlight as it
shriil cry of the whippo-will as it breaks
upon the death-like stiffness. and now
watching the shadows as they weirdly
dance over the ground to the music of the
breeze signing in the trees overhead.
1t Is lovely, peaceful scene, where all
nature seems in sweet repOSe, and vet here
are gathered two mighty armies. with all
the cruel enginery of war, shOtted and
ready, standing, like two monsters, with
nerves strung, teeth set, and eyes glazing
into the uncertain light, waiting for
chance to grapple with each
other in death struggle. Sud-
denly the sharp report Of musket awak-
ems the echoes around. \ strange CULVER
thrills our frame; the whipporwill stills its
notes; the shadows seem TO cease their
play, and the winds to be hushed, and then
there burst upon the night wild demOniac
yell-''hi! hi! hir'-until it deepens into
monotonous refrain.
THE REBELS BATTLE CRY.
"HeavensI you know what that is"
Kisses the major into my ear; the enemy
are moving on us-it is their terrible battle
cryr 'Hil hi! hir' The earth seems to
have opened to let forth legion of fiends,
so unearthly is that cry. and, TO
accompany it with a fitting chorus,
score or 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 a food of light
reveals the gray lines sweeping
madly over the field. their bayonets
poised and their hands on the fatal triggers
STEADY, men; ready, but reserve your
fire" shouts the little major, as we spring
to our feet, and the sharp click, click of the
gunlocks is the quick response. Lie low, +"
rings from behind. and, as we hug
the earth again. lurid blaze
lights up the woods and field
and from six iron threats is hurled, kissing
and screeching over our heads. a storm
Of shot aud shell that plunging and
ploughing along. opens great, bloody
gashes in the coming columns.
Still the hi! hi! hiv' rings, unbroken
and defiant. upon the night; but then the
raised muskets are leveled, a CLEAN of light
flashes along our PROSTATE lines, the gray
ranks melt before their whitening ire. and,
with loud cheers, regiment after regiment
leaps from its cover 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 dis
turbed their play, while the melancholy
signing of the winds sounds more sadly
still as the music of its plant 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 APP
proaeh of day, did they waste away before
the 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
pale light tenderly kissing their pale,
CHASTITY faces upturned to the sky; and as
each succeeding May moon darts its pene-
trating rays through the thick foliage of
these same wilds and summons the shadows
to their elfish sport. they hold their mid
night reyels over the still green graves of
scores Of these dead heroes, who, unknown
and forgotten, quietly sleep, awaiting the
final muster on high.
4. WILSON NORRIS.