Harper's Round Table, June 4, 1895 Part 1

Harper's Round Table, June 4, 1895.

by Various.

HEROES OF AMERICA.

THE FLAG-BEARER.

BY THE HONORABLE THEODORE ROOSEVELT.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative I]

n no war since the close of the great Napoleonic struggles has the fighting been so obstinate and b.l.o.o.d.y as in the civil war. Much has been said in song and story of the obstinate courage of the Guards at Inkerman, of the charge of the Light Brigade, and of the terrible fighting and loss of the German at Mars la Tour and Gravelotte. The praise bestowed upon the British and Germans for their valor, and for the loss that proved their valor, was well deserved. But there were over one hundred and twenty regiments, Union and Confederate, each of which in some one battle of the civil war suffered a greater loss than any English regiment at Inkerman or at any other battle in the Crimea; greater loss than was suffered by any German regiment at Gravelotte, or at any other battle of the Franco-Prussian war. No European regiment in any recent struggle has suffered such losses as at Gettysburg befell the 1st Minnesota, when 82 per cent. of the officers and men were killed and wounded; or the 141st Pennsylvania, which lost 76 per cent., or the 26th North Carolina, which lost 72 per cent.; such as at the second battle of Mana.s.sas befell the 101st New York, which lost 74 per cent.; and the 21st Georgia, which lost 76 per cent. At Cold Harbor the 25th Ma.s.sachusetts lost 70 per cent., and the 10th Tennessee at Chickamauga 68 per cent.; while at s.h.i.+loh the 9th Illinois lost 63 per cent., and the 6th Mississippi 70 per cent.; and at Antietam the 1st Texas lost 82 per cent. The loss of the Light Brigade in killed and wounded in its famous charge at Balaklava was but 37 per cent.

These figures show the terrible punishment endured by these regiments--chosen at random from the head of the list--which shows the slaughter roll of the civil war. Yet the shattered remnant of each regiment preserved its organization, and many of the severest losses were suffered by regiments in the hour of triumph, and not of disaster.

Thus, the 1st Minnesota at Gettysburg suffered its appalling loss while charging a greatly superior force, which it drove before it; and the little huddle of wounded and unwounded men who survived their victorious charge actually kept both the flag they had captured and the ground from which they had driven their foes.

A number of the Continental regiments under Was.h.i.+ngton, Greene, and Wayne did valiant fighting, and suffered severe loss. Several of the regiments raised on the Northern frontier in 1814 showed, under Brown and Scott, that they were able to meet the best troops of England on equal terms in the open, and even to overmatch them in fair fight with the bayonet. The regiments which in the Mexican war, under the lead of Taylor, captured Monterey, and beat back Santa Anna at Buena Vista, or which, with Scott as commander, stormed Molino Del Rey and Chapultepec, proved their ability to bear terrible loss, to wrest victory from overwhelming numbers, and to carry by open a.s.sault positions of formidable strength held by a veteran army. But in none of these three wars was the fighting so resolute and b.l.o.o.d.y as in the civil war.

Countless deeds of heroism were performed by Northerner and by Southerner, by officer and by private, in every year of the great snuggle. The immense majority of these deeds went unrecorded, and were known to few beyond the immediate partic.i.p.ants. Of those that were noticed it would be impossible even to make a dry catalogue in ten such volumes as this. All that can be done is to choose out two or three acts of heroism not as exceptions, but as examples of hundreds of others. The times of war are iron times, and bring out all that is best as well as all that is basest, in the human heart. In a full recital of the civil war, as of every other great conflict, there would stand out in naked relief feats of wonderful daring and self-devotion, and, mixed among them, deeds of cowardice, of treachery, of barbarous brutality. Sadder still, such a recital would show strange contrasts in the careers of individual men--men who at one time act well and n.o.bly, and at another time ill and basely. But though the ugly truths must not be blinked, and though the lessons they teach should be set forth by every historian, and learned by every statesman and soldier, yet these are not the truths on which it is best worth while to dwell. For our good-fortune the lessons best worth learning in the nation's past are lessons of heroism.

From time immemorial the armies of every warlike people have set the highest value upon the standards they bore to battle. To guard one's own flag against capture is the pride, to capture the flag of one's enemy the ambition, of every valiant soldier. In consequence, in every war between peoples of good military record, feats of daring performed by color-bearers are honorably common. The civil war was full of such incidents. Out of very many, two or three stand as especially noteworthy.

One occurred at Fredericksburg on the day when half the brigades of Meagher and Caldwell lay on the b.l.o.o.d.y slope leading up to the Confederate entrenchments. Among the a.s.saulting regiments was the 5th New Hamps.h.i.+re, and it lost 186 out of 300 men who made the charge. The survivors fell back sullenly behind a fence, within easy range of the Confederate rifle pits. Just before reaching it the last of the color-guard was shot, and the flag fell in the open. A Captain, Perry, instantly ran out to rescue it, and, as he reached it, was shot through the heart; another Captain, Murray, made the same attempt, and was also killed; and so was a third, Moore. Several private soldiers met a like fate. They were all killed close to the flag, and their dead bodies fell across one another. Taking advantage of this breastwork Lieutenant Nettleton crawled from behind the fence to the colors, and bore back the blood-won trophy.

Another took place at Gaines Mill, where Gregg's 1st South Carolina formed part of the attacking force. The resistance was desperate, and the fury of the a.s.sault unsurpa.s.sed. At one point it fell to the lot of this regiment to bear the brunt of carrying a certain strong position.

Moving forward at a run, the South-Carolinians were swept by a fierce and searching fire. Young James Taylor, a lad of sixteen, was carrying the flag, and was killed after being shot down three times, twice rising and struggling onward with the colors. The third time he fell the flag was seized by George Cotchet, and when he in turn fell, by Shubrick Hayne. Hayne was also struck down almost immediately, and the fourth lad, for none of them were over twenty years old, grasped the colors, and fell mortally wounded across the body of his friend. The fifth, Gadsden Holmes, was pierced with no less than seven b.a.l.l.s. The sixth man, Dominick Spellman, more fortunate, but not less brave, bore the flag throughout the rest of the battle.

Yet another occurred at Antietam. The 7th Maine, then under the command of Major T. W. Hyde, was one of the hundreds of regiments that on many hard-fought fields established a reputation for dash and unyielding endurance. Toward the early part of the day at Antietam it merely took its share in the charging and long-range firing with the New York and Vermont regiments, which were its immediate neighbors in the line. The fighting was very heavy. In one of the charges the Maine men pa.s.sed over what had been a Confederate regiment. The gray clad soldiers were lying, both ranks, soldiers and officers, as they fell, for so many had been killed or disabled that it seemed as if the whole regiment was p.r.o.ne in death.

Much of the time the Maine men lay on the battle-field hugging the ground under a heavy artillery fire, but beyond the reach of ordinary musketry. One of the privates, named Knox, was a wonderful shot, and had received permission to use his own special rifle, a weapon accurately sighted for very long range. While the regiment thus lay under the storm of shot and sh.e.l.l he asked leave to go to the front, and for an hour afterwards his companions heard his rifle crack every few minutes. Major Hyde finally, from curiosity, crept forward to see what he was doing, and found that he had driven every man away from one section of a Confederate battery, tumbling over gunner after gunner as they came forward to fire. One of his victims was a general officer, whose horse he killed. At the end of an hour or so a piece of sh.e.l.l took off the breech of his pet rifle, and he returned disconsolate: but after a few minutes he gathered three rifles left by wounded men, and went back again to his work.

At five o'clock in the afternoon the regiment was suddenly called upon to undertake a hopeless charge, owing to the blunder of a brigade commander, who was a gallant veteran of the Mexican war, but who was also given to drink. Opposite the Union lines at this point were some hay-stacks near a group of farm buildings. They were right in the centre of the Confederate position, and sharpshooters stationed among them were picking off the Union gunners. The brigadier, thinking that they were held by but a few skirmishers, rode up to where the 7th Maine was lying on the ground, and said, "Major Hyde, take your regiment and drive the enemy from those trees and buildings." Hyde saluted, and said that he had seen a large force of rebels go in among the buildings, probably two brigades in all. The brigadier answered, "Are you afraid to go, sir?"

and repeated the order emphatically. "Give the order so the regiment can hear it, and we are ready, sir," said Hyde. This was done, and "Attention!" brought every man to his feet. With the regiment were two young boys, who carried the marking guidons, and Hyde ordered these to the rear. They pretended to go, but as soon as the regiment charged came along with it. One of them lost his arm, and the other was killed on the field. The colors were carried by the color corporal, Harry Campbell.

Hyde gave the orders to left face and forward, and the Maine men marched out in front of a Vermont regiment which lay beside them. Then, facing to the front, they crossed a sunken road, which was so filled with dead and wounded Confederates that Hyde's horse had to step on them to get over. Once across, they stopped for a moment in the trampled corn to straighten the line, and then charged toward the right of the barns. On they went, at the double-quick, fifteen skirmishers ahead, under Lieutenant Butler, Major Hyde on the light, on his Virginia thoroughbred, and Adjutant Haskell to the left, on a big white horse.

The latter was shot down at once, as was his horse, and Hyde rode round in front of the regiment just in time to see a long line of men in gray rise from behind the stone wall of the Hagerstown pike, which was to their right, and pour in a volley: but it mostly went over their heads.

He then ordered his men to left oblique. Just as they were abreast a hill to the right of the barns, Hyde, being some twenty feet ahead, looked over its top and saw several regiments of Confederates, jammed close together, and waiting at the ready; so he gave the order left flank, and, still at the double-quick, took his column past the barns and buildings towards an orchard on the hither side, hoping that he could get his men back before they were cut off, for they were faced by ten times their number. By going through the orchard he expected to be able to take advantage of a hollow, and partially escape the destructive flank fire on his return.

To hope to keep the barns from which they had driven the sharpshooters was vain, for the single Maine regiment found itself opposed to portions of no less than four Confederate brigades, at least a dozen regiments all told. When the men got to the orchard fence, Sergeant Benson wrenched apart the tall pickets to let through Hyde's horse. While he was doing this a shot struck his haversack, and the men all laughed at the sight of the flying hardtack. Going into the orchard there was a rise of ground, and the Confederates fired several volleys at the Maine men, and then charged them. Hyde's horse was twice wounded, but was still able to go on. No sooner were the men in blue beyond the fence than they got into line, and met the Confederates, as they came crowding behind, with a slaughtering fire, and then charged, driving them back.

The color corporal was still carrying the colors, though one of his arms had been broken; but when half-way through the orchard Hyde heard him call out as he fell, and turned back to save the colors, if possible.

The apple-trees were short and thick, and he could not see much, and the Confederates speedily got between him and his men. Immediately, with the cry of "Rally, boys, to save the Major," back surged the regiment, and a volley, at arm's-length, destroyed all the foremost of their pursuers: so they rescued both their commander and the flag, which was carried off by Corporal Ring. Hyde then formed the regiment on the colors, sixty-eight men all told out of two hundred and forty who had begun the charge, and they slowly marched back toward their place in the Union line, while the New-Yorkers and Vermonters rose from the ground cheering and waving their hats. Next day, when the Confederates had retired a little from the field, the color corporal, Campbell, was found in the orchard dead, propped up against a tree, with his pipe beside him.

A CHINESE CREW.

Over the mantel in Grandfather Sterling's dining-room hung the picture of a great Newfoundland dog, painted so true to life that it seemed possible to run one's hand through the ma.s.ses of rough curly hair as the big honest brown eyes looked down wistfully at the table just below the heavy oak frame.

One winter day when Ralph Pell and his grandfather met at breakfast-time, a northeast wind was whistling around the corner of the old mansion, and hurling the snow with a musical tapping against the window-panes.

The white-haired sailor looked up at the picture of the n.o.ble animal, saying, with a touch of affection in his voice: "Well, Nero, good old fellow, this is one of the kind of days you used to love. How you enjoyed plunging and rolling into a big snow drift, and making the white flakes fly!"

"Grandpop," said Ralph, "you have never told me about Nero. Did he ever go to sea with you?"

"Go to sea with me, boy? Why, Nero was first mate with me once, and a good one, too, when I had a Chinese crew on my vessel."

"Oh, do tell me the story, please, grandpop," exclaimed Ralph, "for it must be a funny one."

"Um! Not so funny as you think, perhaps; but I'll spin you the yarn, and let you judge. Well, when I was a strapping young fellow, 'way back in the forties, I sailed out of the port of Boston as mate of the bark _Eagle_, bound to Hong-Kong, which place, as your geography tells you, is in China. We had a quick pa.s.sage out, but found nothing in the way of a good freight just then offering for home, so we remained for several weeks with our mud-hook--as sailors call the anchor--dropped in the same place. It was the unhealthy season, and, one by one, our crew sickened, and were sent on sh.o.r.e to the hospital. Next the Captain was taken down, and I found myself, with the second mate, the only man left on board the vessel.

"Just at this time the Captain was offered a good paying charter to carry a cargo up the coast, so he ordered me to s.h.i.+p a new crew for the trip, and to take his place as Captain, saying that he would be himself again when I returned. There was not a white sailor to be engaged in the port, so I s.h.i.+pped a crew of coolies, as the lower cla.s.s of natives are called, stowed my cargo, and set sail; but as this cla.s.s of Chinamen are very dirty in the way of their clothes and habits, I took care to lock the door of the forecastle-house, in which the sailors sleep, and to make the natives take up sleeping quarters on a lot of mats thrown on top of the cargo in the hold.

"As ill luck would have it, the poor second mate, who had made several voyages to the pig-tail country, and could talk pigeon-English so as to be understood by the moon-eyed sailors, went out of his head with the fever, and jumped overboard in his delirium the second night after leaving port. This left me to deal with a crowd of men who could not comprehend a single order I gave them. However, as the place to which we were bound was only about two days' sail away, and as the wind was favorable, I kept the s.h.i.+p on her course.

"Of all the exasperating times I have ever had, that was the worst. When I wanted the crew to man a certain rope, I was obliged to cast it off the pin, put it in their hands, and make signs to them what they were to do with it; but half the time they would slack away when I wanted them to haul, so that between my anxiety and ill-humor and their surliness we speedily got on very bad terms, and I soon noticed an ugly disposition on their part toward me. I believe that the men would have turned on me if it had not been for the Captain's big dog Nero, who followed me wherever I moved, and who growled wickedly at the evil-looking crew whenever he saw them look threateningly at me.

"In addition to the navigating of the s.h.i.+p, I was obliged to constantly superintend the setting and taking in of the sails, the steering of the s.h.i.+p, and many other matters, so that I dared not go below even for my meals. The afternoon of the day before I expected to reach port I was completely worn out with my labors, and almost sick from lack of sleep.

At last I could stand guard no longer, so I went through a regular pantomime with the man at the wheel, signifying that he was to keep the s.h.i.+p going just as she was. Then I threw myself down on top of the cabin-house, and immediately fell asleep.

"It was quite dark when I was awaked by Nero shaking me roughly and uttering loud and angry yelps. In one jump I made the wheel, jammed it hard over, brought the vessel to her course again, then called Nero, who stood on top of the cabin whining in an ugly way at the Chinamen who were grouped about the door of the carpenter's shop alongside the galley.

"I saw through the trick at once. The wheelsman had calculated that by deserting his post, the s.h.i.+p would fly up into the wind and be wrecked in the strong breeze then blowing. In this way the vengeful spirit of the men was to be satisfied. When they saw that their plan had failed they sullenly entered the hold through the b.o.o.by-hatch, and that was the last I ever saw of my Chinese crew.

"I waited a little while, then lashed the wheel, pulled off my shoes, and sneaking forward noiselessly closed the door of the hatch and slipped the bolt into its socket. That accomplished, I went back to the wheel much easier in mind, for I knew that the crew could not gain the deck in any other way.

"During the night the wind died completely away, leaving the vessel becalmed, and the sea subsided into long, easy swells. I dozed at intervals, trusting to Nero to warn me of any new danger, and so obtained some little rest. Just before daybreak, upon awakening from one of these cat-naps, I became sensible that the s.h.i.+p was lifting in a very sluggish way to the seas, and that her motion was new and strange.

Casting my eyes over the side, I was almost petrified to see that the vessel had settled in the water almost to her deck-line, and was rapidly sinking under my feet. At the same instant there came a violent pounding forward from the inside of the b.o.o.by-hatch and a chorus of wild and agonizing yells.

"In a flash the heathenish trick was revealed to me. The Chinamen had determined not to be cheated out of their revenge, so had bored holes in the s.h.i.+p with an auger taken from the carpenter's chest. They had expected to rush out on deck in time and escape in one of the boats, probably leaving me to go down in my vessel, but found their way blocked by the locked door of the hatch.

"However devilish their action had been, I could not let them drown like rats in a trap, so I started forward to their release, and had just laid my hand on the bolt when the deck blew up, owing to the confined air, with a report like that of a cannon, and I was hurled into the sea.

"I quickly gained the surface, but was immediately drawn down again in the suction of the sinking vessel, and when at last I once more found myself on top of the water I was so far spent, strong swimmer though I was, that I would have sunk helplessly, but Nero caught my collar and held my head up until I recovered my breath and strength.

"Shortly after this some floating object b.u.mped up against us, which to my joy I discovered to be the large wooden chicken-coop that had rested on the deck. I climbed on top of it, and pulled Nero up beside me, and we drifted about on it until late that afternoon, when we were picked up by a Chinese junk, and carried into port.

"And now, my boy," said Grandfather Sterling, in conclusion, "you have the story of the time that I went to sea with a Chinese crew, and had Nero for my first mate."

THORNTON'S USELESS STUDY.

BY W. J. HENDERSON.