Part 11 (2/2)

We halted in a broom-sedge field, some distance beyond the Court House, and parked our guns, along with some other artillery, already there. And here we stayed a day or two.

The only thing I particularly recall of the stay here, was a trivial circ.u.mstance. One of the batteries we found in this field, belonged to the ”Reserve Artillery” of which the ”_un_reserved artillery” had a very humble opinion indeed,--just at that time.

These fellows had not fired a shot, through all the late fighting, and their guns were as bright, and clean as possible; which ours were not.

One day a blue bird started to build her nest in the muzzle of one of their guns. Some of the sentimental fellows took this as an augury. ”A sweet gentle little bird building her nest in the muzzle of a cannon!

What _could_ that mean but, that peace was about to be made, and these cannon useless?”

The rest of us scouted this fancy, and took it as a rare good joke on that ”Reserve Artillery.” We said ”their guns were not of any use anyhow _except_ for birds' nests; the birds knew they would be perfectly safe to build their nest, and live in _those_ guns. _They_ would not be disturbed!” We ”chaffed” the officers and men of that battery most unmercifully. The whole field was on the _grin_, about that birds' nest.

The poor fellows were blazing mad, and much mortified; so _disgusted_ that they took their nice, clean guns, and went off to a distant part of the field, to get rid of us. We were _sorry_ to lose them! They afforded _us_ a great deal of fun, if they didn't have any themselves. That blue bird story got all over our part of the Army, and those ”Reserve Artillerists” were ”sorry that they were living.”

CHAPTER IV

COLD HARBOR AND THE DEFENSE OF RICHMOND

About the 20th or 21st we started from Spottsylvania battlefields for others. The Army was on the move, and we went along. For a day or two we were constantly marching, not knowing where we were going, and along roads that I remember very little about. At last, about the 22d, we crossed the North Anna River, and struck the Central Railroad (now ”the Chesapeake and Ohio”) and marched along it, till we halted near Hanover Junction.

Our Army had crossed and stopped on the south bank of the North Anna, two or three miles in front of the Junction, and was taking the river for a new line of defence. Presently the Federal Army came up pus.h.i.+ng on, for the same point, and found us, already ahead, in front, and across their track! Then they went at the same old game of trying to break through us. They got across the river on our right, and on our left. General Lee then threw back both wings of his army, clinging with his centre to the river bank. Thus check-mating Grant in a way to make his head swim! Grant after crossing the river, on both our right and left, suddenly found he had got his army cut in two, and he _got out of that_, just as quickly as he could, and gave the North Anna line up as a bad job.

We were moving in one direction, or another, about the Junction, for seven or eight days. This North Anna business was far more a matter of brains between the Generals, than brawn between the men. Some sharp fighting, on points right and left, but that was all! General Lee simply ”horn swaggled” General Grant, and that was the end of it! We were out one day on the ”Doswell Farm,” and got under a pretty sharp infantry fire, and fired a few shots, then General Rodes' skirmishers charged, and drove them off, and we saw no more of them.

Along about the 29th or 30th of May, we got on the march again; this time through the ”Slashes of Hanover.” It was an all-night march, and a most uncomfortable one. The rain had been pouring, and long sections of the road were under water. I think we waded for miles, that dark night, through water from an inch to a foot deep. And the mud holes! after a time our gun wheels went up to the hub, and we had to turn to, there in the dark, and prize our guns out; nearly lift them bodily out of the mud. I suppose we did not go more than five or six miles, in that all-night march, and by the time day dawned we were as wet, and muddy, as the roads, and felt as _flat_, and were tired to death. We halted for an hour or two to rest; then pushed on, all day.

In the late afternoon (this I think was May 31st) we took our guns into position, on the far edge of a flat, open field. Two hundred yards in front of us, in the edge of a wood, was a white frame Church, which, some of the fellows, who knew this neighborhood, told us was ”Pole Green Church.” They also told us that the Pamunkey River was about a mile in front of us. We heard artillery in various directions, but saw no enemy, and did not know anything of what was going on, except where we were. It was quiet there; so we went to sleep, and were undisturbed during the night.

The next morning, we found that infantry had formed right and left of us, and we were in a line of battle stretching across this extensive field. About eleven o'clock skirmishers began to appear, in the woods, in front of us. They thickened up, and opened on us quite a lively fire.

We stood this awhile until those skirmishers made a rush from the woods, and tried to gain the cover of the church building. Some of them did, and as this was crowding us a little too close, we took to our guns, and so dosed them with canister, as they ran out, that they retired, out of range, into the woods. Soon after some infantry began to form in the edge of the woods as if they were about to charge us. We opened on them.

They advanced a little, then broke in some confusion, and disappeared.

The rest of this day, June 1st, along where we were, there was lively sharp-shooting going on, up and down the line, and once a battery fired a few shots at us, but no special attack was made.

In the afternoon, taking advantage of the quiet, our negro mess cooks came into the line, to bring us something to eat. Each fellow had the cooked meat, and bread, for his mess, in a bag, swung over his shoulder.

They came on across the field until within a hundred yards of the line, when a sh.e.l.l struck, in the field, not far from them. The darkies scattered, like a covey of birds! Some ran one way, and some another.

Some ran back to the rear, and a few ran on to us. Our cook, Ephraim, came tearing on with long leaps, and tumbled over among us crying out, ”De Lord have mercy upon us.” ”Ephraim,” we said, ”what is the matter?

what did you run for?” All in a tremble, he thrust out the bag towards us, and exclaimed, ”Here, Ma.r.s.e George, take your vituals, and let me git away from here. De Lord forgive me for being such a fool as to come to sich a place as dis _anyhow_.”

”But, Ephraim,” we said, ”there was no danger! That sh.e.l.l didn't hit anywhere near you.” ”De ain't no use in telling me dat! Don't n.o.body know whar dem things goin'! Sound to me like it was bout to hit me side my head, and bust my brains out, every minit; and if it had a hit me, dem other cooks would all a run away, and left me lying out dar, like a poor creeter.” ”But, my dear Ephraim,” we said, ”it mortifies us to see the 'Howitzer' cooks running so, with all the men looking on.” ”Don't keer who looking! When dem things come any whar bout me, I _bleeged_ to run. Dis ain't no place for cooks, nohow. Here gentlemen! take your rations; I got to get away from here!” We emptied the bag, he threw it over his back, and streaked with it to the rear.

Another night in line here! Next morning, June 2d, orders came to move.

We got on a road running along, just back of our position, and marched off toward the right. The road ran, for some distance, nearly parallel to our lines, and then bore away toward the rear. For a time we met, or pa.s.sed bodies of troops and wagon teams on the roadside, soldiers single, or in groups. Further on, all these reminders of the presence of the Army were left behind, and we found ourselves marching on quiet lonely country roads, through woods and fields of a peaceful rural landscape. We had not the least idea where we were going; or what we were going to do, or see when we got there. But we had got out of the habit of caring for that.

=The Last March of Our Howitzer Captain=

It was a calm, sweet June evening! quiet country farms, and homes lay all about us. The whole scene spoke of peace. It was such a restful change to us from the din and smoke and crowd we had been in the midst of so long. We gave ourselves up to the influences of the hour, and a very pleasant evening we cannoneers had strolling along, in front of the column of guns, and talking together.

Captain McCarthy was on foot, in the midst of us, as we marched. I remember being particularly struck with what a stalwart, martial figure he was, as he strode along that road. He was much more silent, and quiet than usual! He was generally so bright and cheerful, that this was noticed, and remarked on by several of us.

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