Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1891-09-03
WAR "REMINISCENCES.
A BATTLE WITHIN A BATTLE.


From our position on the right we
could see the shells drop in the woods
and break up the formation of the con-
federate cavalry every time they left
cover
We knew where they were. Jeb
Stuart's old troopers were there. Wade
Hampton's dragons were there. Fitz
Lees hard fighters were there-Im-
boden, Rosser, Mosby-every confeder-
ate cavalry command we had fought in
Virginia was making ready in the shell
ter of the woods to charge on our left
flank.
Boom! boom. BOOM
The gunners knew what was at stake.
The orders were to die at the guns if
the position could not be held. For
half an hour their bursting shells kept
the front clear, and we of the cavalry
cheered them
whats that
Out from the cover of the forest at
half dozen places gallop the gay
troopers by hundreds. They wheel to
the right and left, form in two lines,
take their distance close up with a
trembling motion, and now there viii
be a grand charge. The shells burst in
front of them, over them, among them,
but discipline is stronger than the fear
of death
Less than three hundred of us--all
cavalry-to support the battery If
that mob of gray riders ever reaches
the foot of the slope we shall be picked
up and sent whirling like dry leaves in
hurricane. The fire of the six guns
becomes more rapid-it is truly terrific;
but in their haste the gunners do less
execution.
Left wheel - forward = half-right
dress!'
Just two hundred and seventy-eight
of US by actual count as we dress
in two ranks. What are we going to do?
Draw sabers-forward- gallop
-charger'
They are driving us down at that body
of men-ten times our number-to
break and check the charge. If we can
stop them for ten minutes the battery
will be saved by the infantry. We OBJ
lique to the left as we go to close up.
We are living wedge, driving down
to enter living mass and split it in
twain
Afraid? No! There is an exultation
"a sort of drunkenness-about it which
browns all fear. It's taking awful
chances-odds of hundred to one-but
there comes a species of insane delight
when one figures such desperate odds.
They are coming at a gallop-we are
charging at full speed. Every carblne
is slung to its owners back; the sabre
is to settle this. They are yelling as
they come; we '.yi! vi! vi" in reply.
Can the wedge enter? Is the impetus
strong enough to break way into the
solid wall of living men and horses? l
look along their line as the distance
decreases with fearful rapidity, and /
realized that the shock will be ire
mendous
Here it comes! Brace for it! Shut
your teeth hard-grip with your knees
mind your stirrups! Crash-smasb-
hirl-dust-smoke!
The wedge enters! The wedge drives
! ahead over fallen horses and dismount-
} ed riders-yelling, slashing, cutting
keeping its pace. A trooper slashes at
me-a horse goes down in front of mine.
/ feel myself falling with my horse,
and then | am out of the fight for
moment.
The darkness which enshrouded
things passes away after a bit, and l
find my horse lying across my feet, with
the saddle flap so holding them that his
dead body must be lifted up to get me
clear.
The charge of the gray troopers was
broken. That wedge drove right
through the mass and turned to attack
them in rear. Swirling about in circles
like the vultures of war, the mass of
men edges away until the field around
me is clear of all but dead and wound
ed. I've got saber-cut on the shoulder
and can feel the warm blood bathing
my arm, but know | could walk if ]
could get my feet clear. | am working
to extricate them, when / hear hoof
beats behind me, and next moment
riderless horse dashes up and comes to
halt.
All! but how the glory of battle ex-
cites horse! See how red his nostrils
how high his head-the glare in his
eyes-the tail held out Ike plume
the ears working and the legs dancing!
He has not been hit. but he has left his
rider dead back there in the stubble-
federal captain.
The horse stands paving and snort
, ing, when out from the whirl of death,
half mile away, breaks a chestnut
I charger and comes galloping down
upon us. There is blood on the saddle
faps-drops of blood on his shiny
TANKS. 1t is not his blood, but that of
the confederate major who rode him,
and who has been cut down by the
stroke of a sabre.
1t is gray vs.. chestnut-federal VS..
confederate. The newcomer is still a
hundred feet away, when the gray
horse rushes at him with ears laid back
and mouth open, and as | watch them
forget that shells are screaming bull
lets whistling and the sabre doing
bloody work within sound Of nv voice