The National tribune., 1906-07-05


the left and front, We see the battalions
of gray forming. Yonder is battery
coming into position. Then lull in
the crash and roar of battle-even the
stiffness is oppressive.
Look away out yonder beyond that
field of waving corn. We see the gleam-
ing of the sunshine on the FURNISHED
steel. Look on those seried columns
at their front, their TANKS. Hush,
Hush. oh. throbbing heart; it's the
coming of Hoods veterans. In close
columns by Observation-Disclosures
MissisSippians en- echelon; flags waving
in that evening breeze: arms at right
shoulder shift, as If only on parade;
mounted orderlies dashing to and fro,
bearing orders and cheering on those
men. Every rife barrel, every bayonet
CLEANS like silver in that evening sun.
All, those Mississippians. we know
them of old; they had been on every
field of the West in the past three
years, from Shiloh down. a grander
sight was never vouchsafed to mortal
than this coming of Stewarts men.
There was that swaying motion always
seen when large bodies move together
in regular time. 1t comes as a mighty
battering ram. appearing like some
huge monster clothed in dingy gray,
sure of crushing Joe Hooker's boys, in
perfect step, conscious of its strength
and might The bugles blare as the
enemy advance.
While not engaged I wipe my gun,
and now / load and lie fiat on the
ground. avoiding in this a portion of
the storm of canister and shrapnel
that is hurting around. | grit my
teeth and await what to some might
seem defeat
Behind Featherstone's FIVE regiments
comes another brigade. and still an
other in our immediate front-the
whole of Loring's Division of Stewards
Corps.
A Magnificent Assault.
Now their lines begin to unfold and
develop; every movement executed in
perfect step; guns still at right shOul-
der shift. Our gunners are planting
their canister now where it will cut the
widest swath it falls amid the crowd
ed ranks of the enemy as true as
though it were placed by hand. AS
the smoke from the enemy's batteries
in front lifts we see those lines of gray
with great gaps torn in them; but they
close up, never losing step as they ad-
vance. 1t is a relief when we get the
order to fire at will, but the smoke
blinds us for time. AS the smoke
lifts we see the enemy staggering un-
der the awful fire it faces. We look
again; it has vanished-gone. Another
line comes bulging on, to disappear like
the first. Again it comes. Our line is
sheet of flame. With terrible yeils
the enemy hurl defiance with its shots
at the grand. splendid bravery of Har-
rison's Brigade. who die, but refuse to
give ground. The stubborn stand of
the old First Brigade is a surprise to
the legions of Stewart, who can neither
crush nor drive us off. But that enc
my trembles as it hats, wavers a min
ute and then falls back, the few that
are left firing as they go until they
reach their supporting line. Then we
see the discipline that comes to trained
men in battle. AS they reach their
supports they halt, close up and reform
on their colors. AS deliberate as if on
dress parade, yet full of action, SEEM
ingly maddened at the repulse and fu-
rious to avenge their fallen comrades,
the fegy sons of the South are again
in perfect form to hurl themselves
against their exhausted but fearless foe.
For brief moment that line of gray
was motionless. Then it leaps forward
with that hideous yell well known to
soldiers that had served on the front
line. They come sweeping over the
distance that lies between the blue and
the gray ---s -...t .-
Storm of Bullets.
Following the yell came a storm of
leaden hail full in our faces 1t knocks
the center companies of the writer's
regiment off their feet; swath of
death crashes through the color guard; I;
a ten-strike. The flag is down. No, it
is up again; hundred men to the res
cue. A wild cheer from our boys is
hurled back upon them, and shot an
swers shot.
How fares it with the other regi-
ments. | can only tell of my own.
Nay, nor half of that. The crash of
musbetry is deafening, and the earth
trembles with the conclusion and
shock. Watch the play on the features
of our boys. Even the dullest soldier
assumes the form of a Grecian god as
he springs to his feet to meet the foe.
There goes one to earth to rise no
more, shot through the brain as he
forced home a cartridge, and yet an
other. moment later my old pard,
Ephraim Howder, is mustered out, but
has company over the river of mess
mate, Francis Penfield. That blast,
too, swept away Enos Morris, Geo. r.
Sarvis, Corp'l Builman and Sim Stod-
dard, who passed to the great beyond
We cannot note all who are falling for
our vision is to the front. But that
gray line wavers; it halts, trembles and
| is gone, followed by a wild cheer that
burst from the living of that heroic
line in blue, telling in its own glad way
that they are victors on that bloody
| field. You may point to the stragglers
who lined the banks of the creek with
expression of diSdain. 1 answer by
| pointing to the heroes who met the
shock of Hoods battalions on that Goth
of July and rolled them back in bloody
rout and defeat. But then came the
night, with darkness and rest. For our
dead comrades an eternal rest-''life's IS
ftful fever past'-to those who lived
the sleep of utter exhaustion, undis-
turbed even by the ghastly forms of our
own dear comrades.
But the morrow brought to them a
realization of glory surprising, a
glory piercing the clouds of smoke that
still hung over that field, falling alike
with glorious splendor on living and
dead, falling on a field that they had
made famous, touched by immortality.
Thus was won the field of Peach Tree
Creek, one of the most sanguinary con-
fiicts of the civil war.
Proud of Americans.
We are proud to-day of those SOL
diers led by Stewart who contested with
us the honors of that field, because
they were Americans. No prouder
honor can any man claim than to be
the conqueror of such men as these.
We are prouder yet of our comrades
of the old brigade, living and dead,
from the youngest boy in the ranks to
our noble commander, who on that day
met and checked the fierce assault of
those other Americans. All are proud