Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War. Herman Melville

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СКАЧАТЬ charge too upward, and not down—

      Up a steep ridge-side, toward its crown,

      A strong redoubt. But they who first

      Gained the fort's base, and marked the trees

      Felled, heaped in horned perplexities,

      And shagged with brush; and swarming there

      Fierce wasps whose sting was present death—

      They faltered, drawing bated breath,

      And felt it was in vain to dare;

      Yet still, perforce, returned the ball,

      Firing into the tangled wall

      Till ordered to come down. They came;

      But left some comrades in their fame,

      Red on the ridge in icy wreath

      And hanging gardens of cold Death.

      But not quite unavenged these fell;

      Our ranks once out of range, a blast

      Of shrapnel and quick shell

      Burst on the rebel horde, still massed,

      Scattering them pell-mell.

      (This fighting—judging what we read—

      Both charge and countercharge,

      Would seem but Thursday's told at large,

      Before in brief reported.—Ed.)

      Night closed in about the Den

      Murky and lowering. Ere long, chill rains.

      A night not soon to be forgot,

      Reviving old rheumatic pains

      And longings for a cot.

      No blankets, overcoats, or tents.

      Coats thrown aside on the warm march here—

      We looked not then for changeful cheer;

      Tents, coats, and blankets too much care.

      No fires; a fire a mark presents;

      Near by, the trees show bullet-dents.

      Rations were eaten cold and raw.

      The men well soaked, come snow; and more—

      A midnight sally. Small sleeping done—

      But such is war;

      No matter, we'll have Fort Donelson.

      "Ugh! ugh!

      'Twill drag along—drag along"

      Growled a cross patriot in the throng,

      His battered umbrella like an ambulance-cover

      Riddled with bullet-holes, spattered all over.

      "Hurrah for Grant!" cried a stripling shrill;

      Three urchins joined him with a will,

      And some of taller stature cheered.

      Meantime a Copperhead passed; he sneered.

      "Win or lose," he pausing said,

      "Caps fly the same; all boys, mere boys;

      Any thing to make a noise.

      Like to see the list of the dead;

      These 'craven Southerners' hold out;

      Ay, ay, they'll give you many a bout"

      "We'll beat in the end, sir"

      Firmly said one in staid rebuke,

      A solid merchant, square and stout.

      "And do you think it? that way tend, sir"

      Asked the lean Cooperhead, with a look

      Of splenetic pity. "Yes, I do"

      His yellow death's head the croaker shook:

      "The country's ruined, that I know"

      A shower of broken ice and snow,

      In lieu of words, confuted him;

      They saw him hustled round the corner go,

      And each by-stander said—Well suited him.

      Next day another crowd was seen

      In the dark weather's sleety spleen.

      Bald-headed to the storm came out

      A man, who, 'mid a joyous shout,

      Silently posted this brief sheet:

      Glorious Victory of the Fleet!

      Friday's great event!

      The enemy's water-batteries beat!

      We silenced every gun!

      The old Commodore's compliments sent

      Plump into Donelson!

      "Well, well, go on!" exclaimed the crowd

      To him who thus much read aloud.

      "That's all," he said. "What! nothing more"

      "Enough for a cheer, though—hip, hurrah!"

      "But here's old Baldy come again—

      More news!—" And now a different strain.

      (Our own reporter a dispatch compiles,

      As best he may, from varied sources.)

      Large re-enforcements have arrived—

      Munitions, men, and horses—

      For Grant, and all debarked, with stores.

      The enemy's field-works extend six miles—

      The gate still hid; so well contrived.

      Yesterday СКАЧАТЬ