Cofachiqui, and Other Poems/The battle of Nashville

THE BATTLE OF NASHVILLE.

THE blue-coats of Sherman had marched to the sea
And the rebels with Hood thought their pathway free
To the land where the wealth of the Northmen lay,
For their leader had sworn that ere New Year's day
Their flag should float and their camp-fires glow
Mirrored bright on the breast of Ohio's flow.
O'er the Tennessee all their horsemen swarmed,
On its hither bank fast their footmen formed,
And on toward the gleam of the polar star
Their columns pressed and their files stretched far.
O'er Pulaski's hills and through Linwood's vale
Wound the blackened path of their broad war trail,
And the blue-clad columns were backward pressed
Till at last they stood on the lofty crest
Of the hills which loom 'round Columbia town
And with trenches, bastions and guns did frown.
But in vain the trenches their lightning flashed,
And in vain the bastions thundered and crashed
To stay the march of the rebel horde,
And over the river the gray-coats poured.
'Gainst the shallow trenches and walls of clay
Where the Union army in waiting lay,
At Franklin, the foemen dashed and broke
Like the stormy waves 'gainst the walls of oak,
And the uniforms which the clay mire strewed
Were of homespun gray or butternut-hued,
And they scattered lay like the harvest sheaves,
While gold-starred collars and gilt-trimmed sleeves,
The sergeant's chevrons and captain's bars
And many a colonel's silver stars
Lay in mire beside the jackets coarse
Of the conscript men of the rebel force.

But at last the city our lines enfold
And they stand at bay in a stern stronghold.
The smoke of camp-fires was mingled high
In the murky air of the wintry sky
With the wreaths that curled from the house-tops brown
Which lined the streets of the 'leaguered town.
And the rebel lines in a crescent grand
Swept 'round on the south to the Cumberland,
And their flanks came down to the river's flow
Far above the city and far below.

The days of December were gliding past;
Came the fourteenth night of the night at last.
'Neath the wintry sweep of the northern gale
The earth had been locked in an icy mail,
But a milder breeze from the far gulf shore
Had unlocked the fetters of frost once more,
And again the hill-tops were bare and brown,
While a dense fog hung over river and town.
Then the scattered camps came the order through:
"Fill each cartridge-box, fill it up anew,
And ready—be ready ere morning light,
For the fight must come ere another night."
As along the camp streets the warning went,
The lights gleamed forth from each lowly tent.
Then, when all prepared, sank the men to sleep
And the camp was hushed in a silence deep,
And in darkness lay save the watch-fire's light
As it struggled up through the misty night
Ere the old church clock tolled the hour of three,
On the morning air rang the reveillé,
And the camp-fires glowed thro' the mist-cloud gray
Like a presage red of that bloody day.

Ere the gray cloud rolled from the city's breast,
Out at Negley fortress the blue-coats pressed.
In a living torrent the troops poured by:
There were massive columns of infantry
With their slanting guns, then the troopers rode.
With a clanking saber and jingling goad
At each one's side and on each one's heel-
On the sloping hillside their squadrons wheel.
Then the heavy wheels of the bright brass guns,
And the ordnance trains, and the dark caissons,
And the limbers roll; and each iron tire
Grates harshly down in the gravelly mire.

Then the battle came. First the quick, sharp crack
From each skirmisher in the front came back,
While at intervals came a heavy bang!
And its deep bass notes in the concert rang.
Then a rattling roll from the infantry,
And the clanging sweep of the cavalry,
And the fierce deep throbs of artillery;
With their mingled echoes the ridges rang,
And the iron cones and the minies sang,
As with rallying cheers 'mid the deepening crash
The long blue lines of the Northmen dash
'Gainst the motley ranks of the clay-hued host,
Like the ocean waves on the sandy coast.

Dim and low o'er the hills shone the sinking sun
When the fiercest charge of the fight was done.
With a swarming shout came the fearful shock,
As when breakers swell on the fast-bound rock,
And the high stone walls that the broad road hem
Were but feeble barriers the tide to stem;
For the rebels quailed and their fire grew tame
As the fierce, wild rush of the Northmen came.

With no foe in front, then our boys looked 'round
To see if their comrades were gaining ground.
To the left the ranks of the foemen gray
Were all broken and fast were drifting away,
Like the flying clouds by the west breeze riven
When the blue sky gleams through their rifts at even.
But away to the right where the grand hills rose
There the foe fell back 'neath the heavy blows;
But their ranks were stubborn and broken not,
Although beaten and torn by the howling shot.
There the bullets hissed and the shells shrieked nigh
Like a demon troop on a revel high.
As the rifles cracked sharp, the white wreaths curled,
'Round each cannon's mouth fast the war-cloud swirl'd,
And the wreathing clouds from the bursting shells
Scattered lightning out from their misty cells,
And their jagged missiles were downward hurled
As their fleecy folds in the blue air curled.

Then the twilight came, and the cannon's glare,
Seeming angry and red through the dusky air,
For a time lit up the dark ridge's crest;
Then the wintry darkness hushed all to rest.