The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1894-06-13

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CHAPTER XVII.
Not one soldier in a hundred MOI
than catches a glimpse of a battlefield.
He seldom sees what takes place outside
of his own regiment. When two great
armies grapple, they must have room.
The front may Be three, four, five OF SIX
miles long. The lines Of battle u
across open fields, through the woods,
over hills, across highways, through
orchards. AS soon as the firing begins
the smoke shuts in the vision to the
right and left. Troops may stand or lie
down, have the cover of a breastwork
Or none at all. They may charge or be
charged, gain ground o be driven back
to new line. However the battle goes,
the soldier sees only what takes place
In his immediate front.
And how the opening of a battle
changes the nature CT a man! While
he is waiting for it to begin every nerve
Is strung to its utmost. He may be a
brave man, but in that honr of waiting
he denies It to himself. 4e trembles.
He doubts himself. He turns pale. and
his knees grow weak. He would run
away but for his price,. It is pride and
not courage that holds him in his place.
He may be a man who has never uttered
am oath In the hearing of his comrades
aman of Christian principles. A minute
after the firing begins all the wicked
ness born ia his soul begins to betray
itself. He shouts and raves and curses.
His facial expression is SO changed that
his own brother could not identify him.
For the time being he is a madman-a
devil. He cries: Kill! Kill! KILL"
even though in his excitement he fires
among the tres tops OF at the clouds.
This is the excitement which numbs
all feeling in some men when wounded,
and they fight on until they happen to
catch sight Of their " blood and then
sink helplessly down. It is a sort of
nightmare In which no man a be held
responsible for his words, and in which
no one notes the fight Of time. To
some an hour seems a day. To others
the sun passes from the monday mark
to the edge of the horizon so swiftly
that they are amazed.
For half a day Lees whole army had
hurled itself against the Federal lines.
Every foot of ground on that long front
had drunk blood. The line was broken
only at one place, but that vas fatal.
There the fight continued to rage until
long after nightfall, but at last it grad
ually died away, and solemn hush fell
upon the bloody field. One may con-
quer and yet be sc near vanquished that
he has no strength for another blow. So
it was with Jackson. He had broken
the Federal line, bat he could not fol-
low up his advantage. Even if night
had not come he must reorganize his
shattered commands, replenish his am
munition and permit the wornout men
food and sleep.
A battle does not cease at once. It is
an hour or more in dying away. There
is a sputtering and growing here and
there, and men give up their work OF
death grudgingly. At last a hush comes.
It is absolute to the men who have been
deafened by the roar for hours and
hours. 1t is a blessed relief. but they
look at each other in alarm. The very
stiffness frightens them. They have
seen dead and wounded men before
them, to the night On left, in rear, for
hours, bat have scarcely given them a
thought. Now when the hush comes
the frenzy gradually goes away, and
they stand appalled, at the slaughter.
The hush does not last long. It is bro
ken by the cries Of the wounded-by men
who have suffered pain and thirst and
fear for long hours. There is nothing
known to living nan which can be com
pared to these cries rising from a field
of slaughter as night comes down. Men
who have suffered and made no outcry
while daylight lasted now seem to be
seized with a fear of the darkness. Men
who seemed to have been struck dead
are revived by the falling dew to plead
for life. Some call out in q%uavering
voices, like children when in the dark
ness. Some curse; some pray some re-
vile. Here and there one, realizing that
he is wounded unto death and that help
will come too late, maintains silence.
With an effort which starts the red blood
afresh, he carries his hand to the pocket
in which lies a photograph of sweet
heart or a last letter from the wife at
home, and the burial party finds his
dead fingers clutching the relic and his
glazed eyes fastened upon this last
glimpse of things mortal.
The full horror of a battlefield is re-
allied only at night. While darkness
shuts out a thousand horrible sights, it
yet adds to the horrors. Here and there
parties searching for soma officer, dead
or wounded, move about with lantern
or torch to guide them. They step over
the dead. They tread upon hands and
arms outstretched. They slip and stag
ger on the spots of earth wet with blood.