Over the tree tops,
faintly mingling with the low cry of a dying boy of sixteen, came the
sweet distant notes of a church bell in Richmond.
"God in heaven--the mockery of it!" he cried.
A great shout swept the blue lines. Hooker's magnificent division of
fresh troops swept into view, eager for the fray. They rapidly deployed
to the right and left. In front of them lay the open blood-soaked field,
and beyond the deep woods bristling with Southern bayonets. The new
division leaped into this open field, with a wild shout, their eyes set
on the woods. They paused, only to fire, and their double quick became a
race.
The Southern batteries followed and tore great holes in their ranks.
They closed them with low quick sullen orders sweeping on. They reached
the edge of the woods and poured into its friendly shelter. And then
above the tops of oak and pine and beech and ash and tangled undergrowth
came the soul-piercing roar of two great armies, fearless, daring,
scorning death, fighting hand to hand, man to man, for what they
believed to be right.
The people in church turned anxious faces toward the sound. Its roar
rang above the sob of organ and the chant of choir.
Bayonet clashed on bayonet, as regiment after regiment were locked in
close mortal combat. Hour after hour the stubborn unyielding hosts held
fast on both sides.
Pages:
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239