Page images
PDF
EPUB

distant. In practice, however, this is rarely the case, for the lines of battle are adapted to the configuration of the ground, and therefore irregular. The second is the oblique order, in which one end of the lines approaches more closely than the other. Almost every attacking line of battle approximates to this character, for generally one wing is advanced to fight, while the other is refused, as it is called in military parlance. Third, is the concave order, in which the centre is refused, or kept back, while the wings are advanced. This was the case with the Union army at Antietam, where the attack was made with both wings, while the centre did not participate. Fourth is the convex order, the opposite of the last, the centre being pushed forward, and the wings held back.

It is evident that the character of the order of battle will be governed by the nature of the attack intended.

After the lines have been posted, the rear of the army becomes a busy scene, and continues so until long after the conflict is ended. Ammunition, hospital, and ambulance trains are posted where they will be of most advantage, field hospitals are located, and the reserves take their appointed position. As the battle progresses, regiments and caissons come down to be resupplied with ammunition, exhausted troops march to places where they can rest and reorganize, ambulances are driven to the hospitals conveying wounded, the hospitals themselves become crowded, and present shocking spectacles, detachments of prisoners are marched along under guard, and, to give excitement to the whole, shells from the enemy's batteries, which have failed to burst, or round shot which have richochetted, come whizzing along for a mile or two behind the lines where the main conflict is progressing. A military adage, the sagacity of which is proved by experience, directs that a general should always have good roads in his rear, so that retreat in case of disaster may be easy. Many a position for battle, excellent in other respects, is unavailable on this account. Such roads being secured, present busy spectacles for miles in the rear of an army during a long engagement, and become filled with men and horses slightly wounded, disabled batteries, and other wrecks of war, going to the main or temporary base.

All arrangements being made, the anxious moment of suspense previous to the opening of the engagement arrives. This is the time that tests the nerve of the commander. Hitherto he has been busily engaged in maturing his plans and superintending the disposition of his troops. Perhaps all things have been made ready at nightfall, and he knows that he has but to give the order, and at daybreak will commence a strife which will cost thousands of lives, and determine the course of a nation's destiny. If he trembles in those hours of uncertainty, and vainly seeks sleep on his camp-cot, we cannot wonder.

VOL. III.-35

The method of opening and conducting a battle is, of course, varied in all possible respects by the circumstances of the case. Usually, however, there is a more or less general cannonading, particularly upon that part of the defending line selected for the feint attack, so as to prevent movements of troops. Skirmishers are then deployed in the front of the attacking party, who, driving back the skirmishers of the defenders, open the way for the main advance, which pushes on and engages its opponents. The fighting becomes warm, and if the defenders are overpowered, or convinced that the feint is intended as a real attack, they hurry up re-enforcements. Several hours have been consumed in this, when, on another part of the line, where the real attack is to be made, a concentrated fire of artillery is opened on the selected spot, and the attacking columns rush forward. The fighting is now desperate, the advances and retreats, the shouts and yells of the combatants, and the constant rattle of muskets, making a turmoil and a din indescribable. To an unpractised eye, all seems inextricable confusion. Yet there is order in the chaos of horrors. On a battle-field there is not that haste and confusion generally supposed. Movements, except in case of decisive charges, are made with calmness and order; rarely is the fighting at any one spot ended under a couple of hours. If the attack is successful, a rush with bayonets ensues, and the enemy is driven back to his interior defences. If unsuccessful, the attacking columns return to their supports. Now comes a lull, in which not a sound is heard, and one could scarcely imagine that in the woods and behind the hills, and crouched under stone walls, and swarming in rifle-pits, were two hundred thousand men bent on mutual destruction, and that the dark-looking guns, now so quiet, were shortly to open with volumes of flame. Meanwhile, new plans are made, and the positions of the troops rearranged. Perhaps a portion of the reserves are brought up and put in the front. A decisive charge is ordered. The storm recommences. The assailants crowd up the hills held by the defenders, rush over their rifle-pits, capture their cannon, and drive them, pell-mell, out of their defences. The reserves stem the torrent till nightfall, and the beaten army retires, leaving its dead, its wounded, its cannon, its flags, and the débris of its morning's splendor, in the hands of the victors. Or perhaps the attack recoils, and the assailants, growing disheartened, steadily yield before the defenders, now become the assailants, and in their turn are driven back and back till the tide of overthrow is stayed, or reverse becomes defeat, and defeat a rout. In our war, a rout has rarely occurred to either party, since the first Bull Run battle, the de feated army being generally able to withdraw in some kind of order. This is owing to the nature of the country, which offers

so many facilities for protection, and perhaps to the excellence of the troops on both sides.

One of the most wonderful of the phenomena of a battle, is the disproportion between the number of shots fired and the effects produced. Any one who has visited the scene of a battle will have observed the immense number of bullets in fences, trees, &c. At Antietam this was very remarkable. The fences around the famous corn-field were honey-combed with balls, and the trees contained large numbers of unexploded shells. In his report of the battle of Stone River, General Rosecrans says: "Of fourteen thousand five hundred and sixty rebels struck by our missiles, it is estimated that twenty thousand rounds of artillery hit seven hundred and twenty-eight men, and two million rounds of musketry hit thirteen thousand eight hundred and thirty-two men-averaging twenty-seven cannon-shots to hit one man, and one hundred and forty-five musket-shots to hit one man."

This great waste of ammunition ensues in several methods. Artillery fire is often employed not so much with the expectation of killing and wounding, as to prevent movements of troops. The men lying down, or perhaps sheltered by embankments, can scarcely be touched by the shot. In musketry engagements, even at close quarters, soldiers, except they have become veterans, fire largely at random, and a great proportion of the bullets fly over the heads of the combatants, or strike the ground in front of them. The old proverb, "A miss is as good as a mile," is strikingly appropriate to the experiences of a battle-field. In the miscellaneous whizzing of bullets, a man will perhaps distinguish a dozen which come almost in contact with him, singing in his ears, or grazing his clothing. Some interesting facts on this topic are given in Prof. Mahan's work on fortifications. We quote the following:

"Beyond two hundred and twenty yards, the effect of the fire (small-arms) is very uncertain. Beyond four hundred and fifty yards, the ball seldom gives a dangerous wound, although the musket fired under an elevation of 4° or 5° will carry from six to seven hundred yards, and under greater elevations over one thousand yards.

"The nature of the surface of the ground has considerable influence upon the efficacy of the fire. In broken or ploughed ground, fire is less effective than on an even, firm surface, since in the former the balls are embedded, whereas in the latter they ricochet, and thus attain their mark. It is estimated that under favorable circumstances, about one-seventh of the balls take effect in this way."

[ocr errors]

TABLE OF THE EFFECTS OF FIRE ON A TARGET FIVE FEET NINE INCHES HIGH, AND NINETY-FIVE FEET IN LENGTH.

[blocks in formation]

In rifle practice with the ordinary rifle, owing to the greater length of time requisite to load this arm, there is some compensation for the more uncertain aim of the musket in short ranges and large targets. When the distance is under one hundred and seventy yards, and the mark large, the effects of the two arms are nearly equal; but for distances of two hundred and twenty yards and beyond, the balance is greatly in favor of the rifle. This superiority of the rifle is more particularly observable in the latest improvements of this arm, by Hall, in loading at the breech.

Decker, a German author of reputation, lays down the following as the probable number of balls out of one hundred which will attain their aim when fired by well-instructed troops, making full allowance for the over-estimation of distances in firing on an enemy:

Troops firing in line at 300 paces, out of 100 balls, 1 will touch.

[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small]

"200 66 100

[ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM MOSBY.

BELLE, my favorite mare, neighed impatiently in front of my tent, just as the bright sunrise of early autumn was gilding the hills. The morning was cold and brilliant, and the first crisp frost had just sufficiently stiffened the sod to make a brisk gallop agreeable to both rider and horse.

The bold Shenandoah shook the icy wrinkles from its morning face, and rolled smoothly away before me into the gorgeous forest of crimson and gold below Front Royal.

It is the day of the regular train, and a thousand army wagons are already rolling away from Sheridan's head-quarters down the famous Valley Pike, to bring food and raiment to a shivering and hungry army. I spring into the saddle, and Belle, in excellent spirits, evidently thinks she can throw dust in the eyes of Mosby or any other guerrilla who dares follow her track. It is nine miles to where the train is parked, and before I arrive there, the last wagon has passed out of sight, and the picket-gate of the army has been closed for an hour behind it. My orders are imperative to accompany this train, and military law allows of no discretion. With a single orderly and my colored servant, George Washington, a contraband, commonly called Wash, to constantly remind him of the Christian virtue of cleanliness, I pass out into the guerrilla-infested country.

It is but an hour's work to overtake the train, and mounted as I am I feel great contempt for guerrillas, and inwardly defy any of them to catch me, as I give Belle the rein and dash on at a sweeping gallop till I come in sight of the train, a mile ahead, winding its way through the little village of Newtown,

nine miles south of Winchester.

"Mosby be hanged!" I said to myself, as I slacken speed and pass leisurely through the town, noticing the pretty women, who, for some reason, appear in unusual force at the doors and windows, and one or two of whom wave their handkerchiefs in a significant manner, which, however, I fail to understand, and ride heedlessly forward. Who would suppose a pretty woman waving a handkerchief to be a sign of danger?

Evidently no one but a cynic or a crusty old bachelor, and, as I am neither, I failed to interpret the well-meant warning.

As I had nearly passed the town, I overtook a small party, apparently of the rear-guard of the train, who were lighting their pipes and buying cakes and apples at a small grocery on the right of the pike, and who seemed to be in charge of a noncommissioned officer.

"Good-morning, sergeant," I said, in answer to his salute. "You had better close up at once. The train is getting well ahead, and this is the favorite beat of Mosby."

"All right, sir,” he replied, with a smile of peculiar intelligence, and nodding to his men they mounted at once and closed in behind me, while, quite to my surprise, I noticed three more of the party, whom I had not before seen, in front of me.

An instinct of danger at once possessed me. I saw nothing to justify it, but I felt a presence of evil which I could not shake off. The men were in Union blue complete, and wore in

« PreviousContinue »