Campfire and battlefield : $b an illustrated history of the campaigns and conflicts of the great Civil WarRidpath, John Clark
History
Campfire and battlefield : $b an illustrated history of the campaigns and conflicts of the great Civil War
Ridpath, John Clark
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Campaigns; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Pictorial works
"About four o'clock I arrived on the highest point on the Ozark
Mountains. Not seeing any sign of the enemy, I halted my command, made
them known that the enemy instead of four hundred is nineteen hundred.
But I promised them victory if they will be what I thought and
expected them to be. If any of them too much fatigued from the
fifty-six miles, or sick, or unwell, to step forward; but nobody was
worn out. (Instead of worn out, it is true that every eye was a fist
big.) I made them known that this day I want to fight the first and
the last hard battle, so that if they meet us again they shall know
with who they have to do and remember the Body-Guard. And ordered
quick march. Besides, I tell them, whatever we meet, to keep together
and look after me; would I fall, not to give up, but to avenge mine
death. To leave every ceremonious cuts away in the battlefield and use
only right cut and thrust. Being young, I thought they might be
confused in the different cuts, and the Hungarian hussars say, 'Never
defend yourselves--better make {121} your enemy defend himself and you
go in.' I just mention them that you know very well that I promised
you that I will lead you shortly to show that we are not a fancy and
only guard-doing-duty soldiers, but fighting men. My despatch meant
what I will do. In the hour I get the news my mind was settled. I say,
Thank God, if I am to fight, it is not four hundred! but nineteen
hundred! I halt my men again and say, 'Soldiers! When I was to recruit
you, I told you you was not parade soldiers, but for war. The enemy is
more than we. The enemy is two thousand, and we are but one hundred
and fifty. It is possible no man will come back. No man will go that
thinks the enemy too many. He can ride back. (I see by the glimpsing
of their eye they was mad to be chanced a coward.) The Guard that
follow me will take for battle-cry, "Frémont and the Union,"
and--CHARGE--!' Running down the lane between the cross-fire, the
First Company followed close, but the rest stopped for a couple
seconds. I had not wondered if none had come--young soldiers and such
a tremendous fire, bullets coming like a rain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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