Transcription

                                           9

far off to our right Hancock has all the afternoon

held his gallant brigade in impatient leash by

Sumner's orders, but now he breaks from control

and pours his fiery torrent of leveled steel on the enemys

flank and thei reeling and broken columns flee from

before him, Night falls black and dismal upon

the field, And under its shadows Johnston speedily

gathers his defeated columns and hastens to put the

Chichahominy between his army and their dreaded

foe. On the wet and spongy soil of the battle field we

drop in painful weariness, surrounded by the wounded

and dead, sleeping with arms by our side in readiness

for the warning bugle that shall summon us to the pursuit.

But the morning breaks, the clouds dispel, the sun comes

forth and there is no pursuit, it is a fruitless battle.

We sadly gather our wounded and bury our dead

over 17,00 of which are from our own division.

I arise an an early hour and am tempted to go over

the battle-field, it is an experience, which in all my

after years of service, I care not to repeat, I pass on through the

slashing and down over those terrible slopes, until my

heart grows too sick to go further. The wounded have all

been removed, and only the dead stare out at me with

vacant eyes, over by yon little breast-work of rails a

face of horror stares at me distorted with passion and

hate, the cold lips still framed in an expiring curse.

nearer by, in strong contrast is the fair face of youth

whose mouth still parts in the expression fo a cheer.

Some are frightfully disfigured with wounds, but the

most of them are faces of peace and repose, their

eyes fixed and vacant, yet full of pathos as though

something of the woe and desolation of homes made

fatherless, husbandless, and souless cast their shadow

upon them, Oh war, black, terrible, bloody, and

cruel, the argument of tyranny and lust, The foe of

tender pity and sweet humanity, [?] [thousely] as thou

wilt in robes of glory, and gem thy brow as thou Mayest

with jewels of chivalry, Yet thou art hideous with the

brand of hell upon thee, Well may the holiest cause

shrink from accepting thy bloody aid.