Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1888-11-03

From the Cincinnati Commercial Gazette
one who has fought on many a battlefield
writes the following thrilling description OF the
work of battery of six guns:
Did YOU ever see battery take position?
1t hasn't the thrill OF cavalry charge. nor
the grimness of a line of bayonets moving
slowly and determinedly on. but there is a pc
culiar excitement about it that makes old vet
Grams rise in their saddles and cheer.
We have been fighting at the edge of the
woods. Every cartridge-boX has been omPtied
once or more, and one-fourth of the brigade
has melted away in dead and wounded and
missing. Not cheer is heard IN the whole
brigade. We know that We are being driven
foot by foot. and that when We break once
more the line will so to pieces and the enemy
will pour through the gap.
Here comes help,
Down the crowded highway gallops bat
terry, withdrawn from some other position 10
save ours. The field fence IL scattered while
you could count thirty. and the guns rush for
The hills behind Us. Six horses 10 a piece
three riders TO each gun. Over dry bitches
where a farmer would not drive a wagon,
through Ciumps of bushes. over logs foot
thick, every horse on the gallop. every rider
flashing his team and yeliing-thc sight behind
MS making Us forget the foe in front The guns
rock or log but not horse slackcn HIS pace, dot
"a cspnoneer loses his seat. Six stas. siS cais
sons. sixty horses. eighty men. race sor the
brow Of the hill as if he who should reach IL
first would he knighted,
\ moIAen1 ago the battery was confused
mob We look again add tbs six g,g,ls ere in
position. the DETACHED horses hurrsms away,
the ammunition chests open. and along our
line runs the command:
Give them one more volley and fall back 20
hp 49, H.. a
when boom! boom! opens the battery and Jets
of fire jump down and scorch the green trees
under which we fought and despaired
Inc shattered old brigade has chance 90
breathe for the first time in three hours as we
form line and lie down. What grim. cool
fellows those cannoneers are. Every man is a
perfect machine. Bullets splash dust in their
faces. but they do not vince. Bullets sing
over and around; they do not dodge There
goes one 10 the earth shot through the head ~
he Sponged his gun. The machinery loses Just
one beat. misses just one cog in the wheels, and
then works away again as before.
Every gun IN using short-fuse shell. The
ground shakes and trembes. the roar shuts out
all sounds from line three miles long. and
the shells go shrieking into the swamp, 10 cut
trees short OFF TO NOV great gaps in the bush
es. hunt out and shatter and manCle men until
their corpses cannot be recognized ar human.
lou would think tornado was bowling through
the forest. followed by pillows of fire. and Vet
men I'VE through lt-aEe. press forward 10 cap
ture the battery. We can hear their shouts as
they form the rush.
Now the shells are changed for grape aud
canister. and guns are fired fast that all
reports blend into one mighty roar. The
shrek of a shell is the wickedest sound in war.
but nothing makes the flesh crawl like the
demoniacal singing. pnrring, whistling grape
shot, and the serpent-like hiss of canister
Mems legs and heads are torn from bodies
ana bodies cut in two. A round shot or shell
takes two men ont of the rank as il crashes
through. Grape and canister NOW a swath and
pile the dead ON top of each other
Through the smoke We zee a swarm of men.
1t Is not a battle line, but a mob of men des-
perate enough to battle their bayonets in the
fame of the guns. The guns leap from the
ground. almost they are depressed on the
Toe, and shrieks, and screams, and shouts blend
into one awful and steady cry. Twenty men
out OF the battery are down, and the firing is
interrupted. The foe accept il as q sign of
wayering, and come rushing on. They are not
ten feet away when the guns give them the last
shot. That discharge picks living men off their
feet and throws them into the swamp, black
ened, 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 muskets and
q rush forward with bayonets. For WHAT
Neither on the right nor left nor in front of US
Is a living foe, There are corpses around us
which have been struck by three, four, aud
even six bullets, and nowhere on this acre OF
ground is a wounded man. The wheels of the
guns cannot move until the blockade of dead is
removed. Men cannot pass from eaisson To
gun without climbing over windows of dead
Every gun and wheel is smeared with blood:
every foot of glass has its horrible stain.
Historians write Of the glory of war. Burial
parties saw murder where historians saw glory.