CHAPTER XVIII.
My Sickness and Hospital Experiences Have Spoiled Me for a Soldier--I Am Full of Charity, and Hope the War Will Cease-- We Have a Grand Attack--The Battle Lasted Ten Minutes--The Rebel Angel's Brother is Captured.
I became satisfied, more each day, that my sickness, and experience inthe hospital, had spoiled me for a soldier. Being attended to so kindlyby a rebel girl and getting acquainted with her people, and hearing hermother pray earnestly that the bloodshed might cease, sort of knockedwhat little fight there was in me, out, and I didn't hanker any morefor blood. It seemed to me as though I could meet any rebel on top ofearth, and shake hands with him, and ask him to share my tent, and helpeat my rations.
The fact of being promoted to a commissioned office, didn't make me feelhalf as good as I thought it was going to, and I found myself wishing Icould be a he sister of charity, or something that did not have toshoot a gun, or go into any fight. I got so I didn't care whether mycommission ever arrived or not. The idea of respectable men going out tohunt each other, like game, became ridiculous to me, and I wondered whythe statesmen of the North and South did not get together and agreeon some sort of a compromise, and have the fighting stop. I would haveagreed to anything, only, of course, whatever arrangement was made, itmust be understood that the South had no right to secede. Then I wouldthink, Why, that is all the South is fighting for, and if they concedethat they are wrong it is the same as though they were whipped, and ofcourse they could not agree to that. I tried to think out lots of waysto wind the business up without fighting any more, but all the plansI made, maintained that our side was right, and I concluded to giveup worrying about it. But I made up my mind that I would not fight anymore. I was still weak from sickness, and there was no fight in me. Ithought this over a good deal, and concluded that if I was called uponto go into another fight, where there was any chance of anybody beingkilled, I would just have a relapse, and go to the hospital again tillit was over. I had heard of fellows being taken suddenly ill when afight was in prospect, and I knew they were always laughed at, but Imade up my mind that I had rather be laughed at than to hurt anybody.There was no thought of sneaking out of a fight because of the danger ofbeing killed myself, but I just didn't want to shoot any friends of thatgirl who had nursed me when I was sick. These thoughts kept coming to mefor a week or more, and one evening it was rumored around that we wereliable to be attacked the next day. Some of our regiments had been outall day, and they reported the enemy marching on our position, in force.The rebels that lived in town could not conceal their joy at the ideathat we were to be cleaned out. They would hint that there were enoughConfederates concentrating at that point to drive every Yankee into theriver, and they were actually preparing bandages and lint, to take careof the Confederates who might be wounded. If we had taken their word forit there wouldn't be a Yankee left in town, when the Confederate boysbegun to get in their work. I went to bed that night resolved that Ishould not be so well in the morning, and would go to surgeon's call,and be sent to the hospital. But I didn't like the way those rebelstalked about the coming fight. Egad, if they were so sure our fellowswere going to be whipped, may be I would stay and see about it. If theythought any of our fellows were going to slink out, when they made theirbrags about whipping us, they would find their mistake. However, if Ididn't feel very well in the morning, I would go to surgeon's call, butI wouldn't go to the hospital. In the meantime, I would just see if Ihad cartridges enough for much of a row, and rub up the old carbine alittle, for luck. Not that. I wanted to shoot anybody dead, but I couldshoot their horses, and make the blasted rebels walk, anyway. And so allthat evening I was part of the time trying to see my way clear to getout of a regular fight, where anybody would be liable to get hurt,and again I was wondering if my sickness had injured my eyesight so Icouldn't take good aim at the buttons on a rebel's coat. I was abouthalf and half. If the rebels would let us alone, and not bring on adisturbance, I was for peace at any price, but gol-blast them, ifthey come fooling around trying to scare anybody, I wouldn't go to ahospital, not much. I talked with Jim about it, and he felt about as Idid. He didn't want any more fighting, and while he couldn't go to thehospital, he was going to try and get detailed to drive a six muleteam for the quartermaster, but he cleaned up his gun all the same, andlooked over his cartridges to see if they were all right. We got upnext morning, got our breakfast, and Jim asked me if I was going to thehospital and I told him I would wait till afternoon. I asked him if hewas going to drive mules, and he said not a condemned mule, not untilthe fight was over. There was a good deal of riding around, orderlies,staff officers, etc. Artillery was moving around, and about eight oclock some of our boys who had been on picket all night, came in lookingtired and nervous, saying they had been shot at all night, and that therebels had got artillery and infantry till you couldn't rest, and theywould make it mighty warm for us before night. Orders come to eachcompany, that no soldier was to leave camp under any circumstances, togo to town or anywhere. I told Jim if he was going to drive mules, hebetter be seeing the quartermaster sergeant, but he said he never wasmuch gone on mule driving, anyhow. But he said if he looked as sick asI did he would go to the hospital too quick. I told him there wasn'tanything the matter with me. Pretty soon, over to the right, near theriver, there was a cannon discharged. It was not long before anotherwent off around to the left, and then a dozen, twenty, a hundred,all along the line. They were rebel cannon, and pretty soon they wereanswered by our batteries. Then there was a rattling of infantry, andthe noise was deafening. I expected at the first fire that our buglerwould come out in front of headquarters and blow for heaven's sake, forus to saddle up, but for three hours we loafed around camp and no movewas made. It was tiresome. We started to play cards several times, butnobody could remember what was trumps, and we gave that up. Some of ourboys would sneak up on to a hill for a few minutes, against orders, andcome back and say that they could see the fight, and it was which andtother. Then a few more would sneak off, and after awhile the wholeregiment was up on the hill, looking off to the hills and valleys,watching rebel shells strike our earth works and throw up the dust, andwatching our shells go over to the woods where the rebels were. ThenI found myself hoping our shells were just paralyzing the Johnnies.Presently the ambulances began to come by us, loaded with wounded, andthat settled it. When there was no fighting, and I was half sick, andfelt under obligations to a Confederate girl for taking care of me,I didn't want any of her friends hurt, but when her friends forgotthem-selves, and come to a peaceable place, and began to kill off ourboys, friendship ceased, and I wondered why we didn't get orders tosaddle up and go in. We were all on the hill watching things, when thecolonel, who had been riding off somewhere, came along. We thought hewould order us all under arrest for disobeying orders, but he rode up tous, and pointing to a place off to the right a mile or so, where therewas a sharp infantry fight, he said, "Boys, we shall probably go inright there about 3 p.m., unless the rebels are reinforced," and he rodedown to his tent. Well, after about twenty ambulances had gone by uswith wounded soldiers, we didn't care how soon we went in there. Wewatched the infantry and artillery for another hour, as pretty a sightas one often sees. It was so far away we could not see men fall, and itwas more like a celebration, until one got near enough to see the dead.Presently the regimental bugle sounded "Boots and saddles," and in aminute every man on the hill had rushed down to his tent, even beforethe notes had died away from the bugle. Nothing was out of place. Everysoldier had known that the bugle _would_ sound sooner or later, and wehad everything ready. It did not seem five minutes before every companywas mounted, in its street, waiting for orders. Jim leaned over towardsme and said, "Hospital?" and I answered, "Not if I know myself," and Ipatted my carbine on the stock. I said to him, "Six mule team?" and hewhispered back, "Nary six mule team for the old man." Then the buglesounded the "Assembly," and each company rode up on to the hill andformed in regimental front facing the battle. Every eye was on
the placewhere the colonel had said we would probably "go in." There never was amore beautiful sight, and every man in the cavalry regiment looked atit till his eyes ached. Then came an order to dismount and every man wasordered to tighten up his saddle girth as tight as the horse would bearit, and be sure his stirrup straps were too short rather than too long.To a cavalry man these orders mean business.
Then we mounted again, and a few noticed a flag off to the rightsignaling. The colonel noticed it and coolly gave the order, "foursright, march." We went off towards the fighting, then right down by ourown cannon and formed in line behind the infantry, that was at work withthe enemy, the artillery firing over our heads at the confederates inthe woods. The noise was so loud that one could not hear his neighborspeak; but above it all came a buggle note, and glancing to the left,another cavalry regiment, and another, formed on our left. Another buglenote, and to the right another cavalry regiment formed, and for half amile there was a line of horsemen, deafened by the waiting the commandof some man, through a bugle. If the rebels had time to notice thosefour regiments of cavalry, fresh and ready for a gallop, they must haveknown that it was a good time to get away. Finally, our artillery ceasedfiring and it seemed still as death, except for the rattling of infantryin front of us. The rebel artillery had ceased firing also, and a greatdust beyond the woods showed that they were getting away. The buglesounded "forward" and that line of cavalry started on a walk. Theinfantry in front ceased firing, and went to the right of us at adouble-quick, and the field was clear of our men. While our cavalry waswalking, they kept a pretty good line, each man glancing to theright for a guide. As we neared the place where our infantry had beenstationed, it was necessary to break up a little to pass dead andwounded without riding over them, and when falling back to keep fromhurting a wounded comrade, a look at the line up and down showed that itwas almost a mob, with no shape, but after get-ing forty rods, wepassed the field where men had fallen, and the order to "close up, guideright," was given, and in an instant the line was perfect. Then came theorder to trot, and we went a short distance, until the rebels couldbe plainly seen behind trees, logs, and in line, firing. We halted andfired a few rounds from carbines, and then dropped the carbines, onorders. For a moment nothing was done, when officers ordered every manto draw his revolver, and when the six charges had been fired, afternear-ing the enemy, to drop the revolver in the holster, and drawsabers, and every man for himself, but to rally on the colors, at thesound of the bugle, and not to go too far. Talk about being sick, andgoing to the hospital, or driving mules! Coward as I was, and I knew it,there was something about the air that made me feel that I wouldn't bein the hospital that day for all the money in the world. All idea ofbeing sorry for the enemy, all charity, all hope that the war mightclose before any more men were killed, was gone. After looking in theupturned faces of our dead and wounded on the field, the more of theenemy that were killed the better. It is thus that war makes men brutal,while in active service. They think of things and do things that theyregret immediately after the firing ceases. The next ten minutes was thenearest thing to hell that I ever experienced, and it seemed as thoughmy face must look like that of a fiend. I felt like one. The buglesounded "forward," and then there was an order to trot, and therevolver firing began, with the enemy so near that you could see theircountenances, their eyes. Some of them were mounted, others were onfoot, some on artillery caissons, and all full of fight. It did not takelong to exhaust the revolvers, and then the sabers began to come out,and the horrible word "charge," came from a thousand throats, and everysoldier yelled like a Comanche Indian, the line spread out like a fan,and every soldier on his own hook. Sabers whacked, horses run, everybodyyelled. Men said "I surrender," "What you jabbing at me for when I ain'tfighting no moah," "Drop that gun, you Johnnie, and go to the rear."Ones of pain and anguish, and awful sounds that a man ought never tohear but once. The business was all done in ten minutes.
Many of our men were killed and wounded, and many of theirs were treatedthe same way. Those who could get away, got, and those we passed withouthappening to hit them, were prisoners, because the infantry followedand took them back to the rear. Jim and me stayed as near together aspossible, and we noticed one young Confederate on a mule. His left armwas hanging limp by his side, and as Jim passed on one side of him and Ion the other, he said, as he held up his right hand, "I dun got enough,and I surrender." The thing was about over, the bugle having sounded the"recall," and we turned and went back with this Confederate. He wasas handsome a boy as ever fired a gun, and while he was pale from hisshattered left arm, and weak, he said, "You gentlemen are all fineriders, sir. You fought as well as Southern men, sir." That was acompliment that Jim and me acknowledged on behalf of the northern army.He couldn't have paid our regiment a higher compliment if he hadstudied a week. Then he said: "I was a fool to be in this fight. I wasa prisoner and was only exchanged last week. I might have remained athome on a furlough, but when our army came along yesterday, and the boyssaid there was going to be a fight, I took my sisters mule, the onlyanimal on the place, and came along, and now I am a cripple." I lookedat the mule, and I said to Jim, in a whisper, "I hope to die if it isn'tthe angel's mule. That must be her brother." Jim was going to ask himwhat his name was, when we neared the place, where our regiment wasforming and the surgeon of our regiment came along, and I said, "Doc, Iwish you would take this young fellow and fix up his arm nice. He is afriend of mine. Take him to our regimental hospital." Then we wentback to the regiment, the prisoners were taken away, and after marchingaround through the woods for an hour we rode back to our camp, and thebattle was over. Two or three hours later I went over to the regimentalhospital and found the black-eyed confederate with his arm dressed, andhe was talking with our boys as though he belonged there. Some one askedhow he happened to be there, and the old doctor said he believed he wasa relative of one of our officers. Anyway he was going to stay there. Igave him a bunch of sutler cigars, and left him, and an hour later the"angel" showed up, pale as death, and wanted some one to go with her tothe battle held to help find the body of her dead brother. She said hehad arrived home from the North the morning before, and had gone intothe fight, and when the Confederates came back, defeated, past theirplantation, her brother was not among them, and she knew he was dead.I have done a great many things in my life that have given me pleasure,but no one that I remember of that made me quite so happy as I was toescort the girl who had been so kind to me, to the hospital where herbrother was. His wound was not serious, and he sat on a box, smoking acigar, telling the boys the news from Wisconsin. He had just come fromthere, where he was a prisoner, and he couldn't talk enough about thekindness of the "people of the nowth." His sister almost fainted whenshe found him alive, then hugged him until I was afraid she woulddisturb his arm, and then she sat by him and heard him tell of his visitto Wisconsin. Before night he was allowed to go home with his sister onparole, and Jim and I were detailed to go and help bury the dead of theregiment.
How Private George W. Peck Put Down the Rebellion Page 18