The National tribune., 1902-02-27

ThouGt not believe thy deeds; but III
report it." -Shakspere.
1t is said that a word may change a
life Actually? No, not of itself; the life
which is changed must be ready for the
word else we were creatures dominated
10y our surroundings.
| had been a fragment-a sort of moral
pOtsam cast up by an unknown sea-anh
had found rude harbor in Co. IL. If
touched larger world, it was only
through the medium of the company in its
relations to that world. ! had formed
some attachments-ties which have lasted
through life thus far, and will always last
but these attachments were immediate
only, and. so far as ] felt, We're almost
baseless: for not directly could l see and
feel what was felt by the men | loved.
Outside the narrow bounds of the com
pany my world was all abstract. fought
for that world, for it appealed to my rea-
son: but it was with effort that | called
before my mind that world, which was n
very present help to every other man. Inc
one great fact was war; the world was
an ideal world rather than n reality. And
frequently felt that. although the ideal
after all is the only reality, yet that reality
to me must he lacking in the varying quail
ity Of light and the delicate degrees of
sweetness and truth which home and
friends and all the material good of earth
were said to assume for charming Their
possessors. The day brought me into con
tact with men; the night left me alone
with myself. In my presence men spoke
of homes far away, of mothers, of SIS
tcrs, of wives and children. | could see
how deep was the interest which moved
them to speak, and, i'll a measure, they
had my sympathy; yet such interest was
mystery rather than fact, theoretical
rather than practical. l could I'LL these
pages with pathetic and humorous sayings
heard in the camps, for my memory pc
cuiarly eXerted itself to retain--or rather,
| should say, spontaneously retained
what | saw and heard; saw and heard
with the least emotion, perhaps, ever eX-
pericnced by a soldier. Absorbed in re,
fections on what | heard, and in fancies
of world of which l knew so little, it
is not to be doubted that | constructed
ideals far beyond the humdrum reality of
home life, impracticable ideals that tended
only to separate me more from other men.
Their world was not my world; this /
knew full well. and I sometimes thought
they knew it; for while no rude treatment
marked their intercourse with me, yet few
sought me as friend. Ny weak attempts
TO become companionabe had failed and
had left me more mOroSe. But for the
Captain and for Joe Bellot, | should have
been hopeless.
Such had been my feelings before | had
willed now, in degree, everything was
changed; Indifference. at least, was gone.
and although | was yet subject to the
strange experience which ruled my mind
and hindered it, yet I knew that | had
large power over myself. and | hoped that
should always determine to live the life
of healthy human being, that | should
he able to accept the relationships which,
through Co. II, bound me to all men and
all things, and that my interest hence
forth would be Notwithstanding the
world and what is in it rather than myself
alone. But this was mere hope: the only
certain change was in the Punishment OF
my former Indifference.
The morning of Thursday, the 26th of
June, passed away, and we yet held our
place in the line. At o'clock the long
roll was heard in every regiment. Our
knapsacks had been piled, TO be stored in
Richmond.
Fall in. Co. II! Fall in. men! Fall
in promptly" shouted Orderly Serg' t
Mackay.
BY fours we went to rear and left. then
norfhward at a rapid stride. Some of the
men tried to Jest, and failed.
At 3 O'Clock we We're crossing Meadow
Bridge: we could see before us and be-
hind us long lines of infantry-Lee's left
wing in motion.
Beyond the bridge the column filed
right; 4. p. Hill came riding back along
the line of the Light Division.
Suddenly, from over the hills n mile and
more away. comes the roar of cannon.
We leave the road and march through
fields and meadows; the passing of the
troops ahead has cleared the way; we go
tiIrurph pnDs in rail fences
And now we hear the crash of small
arms, and smoke is rising from our left
81 liquc. We are yet under the hill. We
halt and wait. The noise OF battle grows.
Sunset cOmes-we move. The next com
pany on our right is passing through a gap
in q fence. A shell strikes the topmOst
rail at the left and hurls it clear over
their heads Then / see men pale, and
] know that my own face is white.
Shells fly over us. We lie down on the
slope of hill which rises to our left. and
darkness grows, and the noises cease. No
breaking Of ranks for rest or for water;
the long night through we lie on our arms.
Morning comes; we have no water; the
men eat their rations dry. At sunrise the
march is again begun. through fields and
woods and down country roads; we go
southeast.
The Yankees have gone At Q o'clock
we halt; field. Co c. the right of the
regiment, is thrown forward as skirmish-
eIs.
Again we march; again we halt, the
brigade in line of battle. An Orderly
comes to Capt. Haskell.
"Co. H! Attention.
Every man is in his place-alert.
"FOrward-Marchr'
"By the right fank-Marchr'
"Halti-Front"
Company as skirmishers on the
right file-take intervals-double-qu
March,
did not have very far to go. The com
pany was deployed on the left of Co. G.
Then we went forward in line for half
mile or more, through woods and fields,
lie brigade following in line of battle
About IL o'clock we had before us an
extensive piece of open land-unculti
vatcd, level and dry. In the edge of the
woods we had halted, so that we might
not get too far ahead of the brigade. From
this position we saw-some 600 yards nj
our left Oblique-a group of horsemen ride
out into the field seemingly upon road,
or line. that would intersect our line CT
advance. Our men were at once in place.
The distance was too great to tell the
uniforms of the party of horsemen; but,
of course, they could be only Yankees.
Capt. Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to
step out of the line. The horsemen had
halted: they were small party, not more
than 10 or 20. Capt. Haskell ordered
Bellot to take good aim at the most eligi-
BILE of the group, and fire.
Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his
sight, put his rifle to his shoulder and
lowered it again. Captain" said he, 81
am afraid to fire; they may be our men,"
The Captain made no reply; he seemed