The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1894-01-19
LAST REBEL CHARGE AT SHILOH.
How Ii Was Met and RepuIsed by the
Remnant OF an Army.

Blue and Gray.
The man that tells you that without
Buell. Grant would have lost at Shiloh, did
not see the last grand grapple on Sunday
night 1t was while waiting for this final
struggle that saw the grandest sight, save
one that / witnessed during the entire war
We were placed head downward on a hill
side, with battery of four or more guns
az its top We are facing the west Look
ing out through the openings, the sunshine
ialIs bright and clear on everything Look
ing TO the right or left we see battalions
FORMING and artillery going into position.
StlllnesS is oppressive. Look away out yon-
der-see the flashing, cleaning sunshine on
the polished steel in front and on the TANKS
1T Is the coming of the enemy. In close
columns by division, with flags fiuttering
ana ITS army moving en- echelon. See how
saper, like the CLEAN of silver and simmer
or brass. In the very front is regiment of
s9w fbor .t g;rander sight no man ever
Iederate army. We see the swinging
motion noticeable when great bodies of men
move together. Thus comes this human
battering ram, with artillery training in
us ranks, presenting the appearance of a
huge monster closed in folds of flashing
tull pride, sure of crushing the beaten,
broken Army Of the Tennessee, In perfect
seeming conscious of its might. with
blare OF band and bugle the line advances;
we see 1t coming and wonder if some one
lie fiat on the ground, head downward;
with teeth tightly closed to await what
seems our sure defeat. Behind the front
line comes another. and still another The
woods are alive with them. On they come;
SO their lines begin TO unfold and develop;
step, and arms still at right-shoulder-shift
see an age In a. moment. We are
nal for more. 1t is answered by a binding
naSh--a mighty roar. The earth trembles;
something strikes me; darkness falls
about me; smoke, and leaves, and twigs,
and gravel, and earth fill the air. 1 start
up affrighted, wondering If the heavens
and sns earth an are coming together 1t is the
above us TO the bold defiant confederate
host. Artillery along the line opens, and
the final struggle has begun
No white flag there. Our cannoneers are
planting their shrapnel where it will do the
most harm, and it falls amid the crowded
mass of the enemy, as true as If it had
been carried by hand. The smoke before
us lifts, and we see beneath ii the lines of
the enemy with great gaps torn in them,
closing up and still advancing. We open
upon them line fire, the guns behind us
are still throwing case shot, the roar deaf
ems and the smoke blinds us for time.
Again it lifts and we see the gray line
staggering under the awful fire ii faces.
The gunboatS take up the fight, hut on
comes that determined line until only a
corporals guard remains. We look again.
1t has vanished-gone. Another pushes on,
to disappear like the first. Our line is a
blaze of fret is a volcano. 1t hurls def
ance with it's shots at the proud, splendid
bravery of the enemy, who die, but refuse
to retreat
The fight becomes fiendsh: the enemy
concentrates his fire and brings into action
every available man and gun. Arms are
no longer at the right shoulder. but are
being used by experienced men. The stub
born resistance of the seemingly beaten
federal army is surprise to the legions Of
Beauregard, who can neither crush nor dis
lodge the blue The gray line trembleS, as
almost 1t halts, wavers for moment, and
then sullenly falls back. the few that are
left firing as they go, until the supporting
al1n1 Tfl,.arN anl
line in battle. The retreating line halts,
closes up, reforms on its support See how
deliberate and full of action it becomes.
maddened at the repUlse, and burning to
avenge their fallen comrades. The fiery
sons of the South are again in perfect
form, ready to hurl themselves with their
undaunted foe. For q moment the gray
line is motionless; then all at once 1t leaps
forward with mighty yell, and sweeps
across the bloody space separating the blue
from the gray Following the yell comes a
storm of leaden hail full into our faces, but
1t is battle of the giants. wild cheer
from our line is hurled back upon them, and
shot answers shot. The roar of artillery is
incessant. The crash of musketry Is deaf
ening. and the earth trembles from the con-
cusslon and shock. Watch the play on the
faces of the men! The eye flashes, the face
grows wild and grander the form rounds
out to it's fullest limit and the plain, duh
glory of an Homeric god as he springs TO
his feet, with no thought of white flag or
defeat, full of q desire to meet and destroy
the coming enemy All individuality is lost
in this wild dance of death. The gray again
halts, trembles, and is gone, followed by "a
wild cheer that burst from the heroic line
In blue telling in it's own glad way that they
are victors the bloody field.
You may point 20 the skulkers that line the
river bank with a f1ippant expression of
disdain. l answer by pointing to the heroes
who met the shock of BeauregardS bat
talions on that Sunday night and rolled
them back in bloody rout and defeat No
Drawer men ever faced an enemy.