The Song of the Rappahannock: Sketches of the Civil WarDodd, Ira Seymour
History
The Song of the Rappahannock: Sketches of the Civil War
Dodd, Ira Seymour
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives
The firing soon ceased; but all the morning we marched and
counter-marched taking up first one, then another position, while now
and then in the valleys below we caught glimpses of the brown ranks of
the Confederates who seemed pouring in from all sides. The situation
was evident even to us in the ranks. Hooker had abandoned the Sixth
Corps and Lee was concentrating all his available force to crush us.
Things looked desperate. I remember that Joe tried all day to keep the
bearings of the river in mind, and proposed that, if worst came to
worst we should, even under fire attempt to swim it rather than go to
Andersonville.
But the day passed quietly, all the afternoon we lay in a little field
with woods on three sides, in apparent security and the men talked and
joked and laughed as though battles were a far-off story. Thus time
wore on, until toward evening a distant cannon shot sounded; then
another, and a spent shell came harmlessly over the tree-tops tumbling
end over end to the ground; and then, all at once, pandemonium seemed
let loose. It was the Song in another of its wild and wonderful
variations. As yesterday at Salem Church there was no prelude of
skirmish fire; but unlike yesterday's evening Song, this did not begin
with the growl of the bulldogs. All instruments of wrath and war seemed
taking part in it, and it came, not from our front alone but from the
right, from the left, from the woods before us; while out in the open
space a battery of ours was savagely firing at an enemy we could not
see. Quickly but quietly we formed in line. Even now I can see my dear
comrade, Serjeant W----, passing along the company front counting off
the files in his grave, careful way. Then he took his place next the
captain, and I saw him no more: he fell in the battle, a noble young
Christian, with a wife and child waiting for him in the far-away home
to which he never returned.
Presently our orders came, and we moved at double-quick past the wood
out into a larger field which sloped gently toward a dry ditch and then
rose in the same manner on the farther side. Coming over the opposite
crest of the slope, in full view was a brigade of the enemy; another
body of them was well up into the wood in front of the field we were
leaving; beside us now was our battery already mentioned: we could hear
the captain shouting his orders for the timing of the shells in seconds
and half-seconds. It was getting too hot for him: his horses were
beginning to fall and to save his guns he was, as we passed him,
calling out to his men to "limber up and be off."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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