ended so that fifteen is dead—two died after—ten prisoners, who was released, and of the wounded, not one will lose a finger. In all seventeen lost.
"The bugler (Frenchman) I ordered him two three time to put his sword away and take the bugle in his hand, that I shall be able to use him. Hardly I took my eyes down, next minute I seen him, sword in the hand, all bloody; and this he done two or three times. Finally, the mouth of the bugle being shot away, the bugler had excuse for gratifying himself in use of the sword. One had a beautiful wound through the nose. 'My boy,' I told him, 'I would give any thing for that wound.' After twenty-four hours it was beautiful—just the mark enough to show a bullet has passed through; but, poor fellow, he cannot even show it. It healed up so as to leave no mark at all. He had also five on his leg and shoulder, and the fifth wound he only found after six days; he could not move easy, for that reason he was late to find there was two wounds in the legs."
Early in November, General Grant was ordered to make demonstrations on both sides of the Mississippi near Columbus, to prevent the Confederates from sending reinforcements to General Price, in Southern Missouri, and also to prevent them from interfering with the movements of certain detachments of National troops. On the 6th he left Cairo with three thousand men, on five steamers, convoyed by two gunboats, and passed down the river to the vicinity of Columbus. To attack that place would have been hopeless, as it was well fortified and strongly garrisoned. He landed his troops on the Missouri side on the 7th, and put them in motion toward Belmont, opposite Columbus, deploying skirmishers and looking for the enemy. They had not gone far before the enemy was encountered, and then it became a fight through the woods from tree to tree. After two or three miles of this, they arrived at a fortified camp surrounded with abatis. Grant's men charged at once, succeeded in making their way through the obstructions, and soon captured the camp with the artillery and some prisoners. But most of the Confederates escaped and crossed the river in their own boats, or took shelter under the bank. The usual result of capturing a camp was soon seen. The victors laid down their arms and devoted themselves to plundering, while some amused themselves with the captured guns, firing at empty steamers. Meanwhile the defeated men under the bank regained confidence and rallied, and two steamers filled with Confederate soldiers were sent over from Columbus; while the guns there, commanding the western bank, were trained and fired upon the camp. To stop the plundering and bring his men to order, Grant had the camp set on fire and then ordered a retreat. The men formed rapidly, with deployed skirmishers, and retired slowly to the boats, Grant himself being the last one to go on board. Some of the wounded were taken on the transports, others were left on the field. The National loss was 485; the Confederate loss was 642, including 175 carried off as prisoners. The Unionists also spiked four guns and brought off two. Both sides claimed this action as a victory—Grant, because he had accomplished the object for which he set out, preventing reinforcements from being sent to Price; the Confederates, because they were left in possession of the field. But it was generally discussed as a disaster to the National arms. There were many interesting incidents. One man who had both legs shot off was found in the woods singing "The Star Spangled Banner." Another, who was mortally wounded, had propped himself up against a tree and thought to take a smoke. He was found dead with his pipe in one hand, his knife in the other, and the tobacco on his breast. A Confederate correspondent told this story: "When the two columns came face to face, Colonel Walker's regiment was immediately opposed to the Seventh Iowa, and David Vollmer, drawing the attention of a comrade to the stars and stripes that floated over the enemy, avowed his intention of capturing the colors or dying in the attempt. The charge was made, and as the two columns came within a few yards of each other, Vollmer and a young man named Lynch both made a rush for the colors; but Vollmer's bayonet first pierced the breast of the color-bearer, and, grasping the flag, he waved it over his head in triumph. At this moment he and Lynch were both shot dead. Captain Armstrong stepped forth to capture the colors, when he also fell, grasping the flagstaff." Another correspondent wrote: "The Seventh Iowa suffered more severely than any other regiment. It fought continually against fearful odds. Ever pushing onward through the timber, on their hands and knees, they crawled with their standard waving over them until they reached the cornfield on the left of the enemy's encampment, where their cannon was planted, and drove them from their guns, leaving them still unmanned, knowing that other forces were following them up. Their course was still onward until they entered on the camp-ground of the foe and tore down the flag."
Besides those here described, there were many smaller engagements in Missouri—at Piketon, Lancaster, Salem, Black Walnut Creek, Milford, Hudson, and other places. There were also encounters in Florida, in New Mexico, and in Texas; none of them being important, but all together showing that the struggle begun this year had spread over a vast territory and that a long and bloody war was before the people of our country.
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| ABATIS. |
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| "THE PICKET'S OFF DUTY FOREVER." |
WAR SONGS.
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t is probable that war songs are the oldest human compositions. In every nation they have sprung into existence at the very dawning of national life. The first Grecian poems of which we have any record are war songs, chanted to inspire or maintain warlike enthusiasm. Not only did they sing martial melodies as they attacked their enemies, but when the conflict was over, and the victory won, they also sang triumphal odes as they returned to camp. Martial odes that were sung in Gaul by the conquering legions of Julius Cæsar have been handed down to the present time. The student of the history and the literature of Spain finds many traces of the war songs that the all-conquering Romans sang as they marched over the mountains or across the valleys of that then dependent nationality. And long before the time of Cæsar, Servius Tullius ordered that two whole centuriæ should consist of trumpeters, horn-blowers, etc., to sound the charge. In these and subsequent ages, war songs were sung in chorus by a whole army in advancing to the attack. If further proof of the antiquity of military music were needed, a conclusive one is to be found in 2 Chronicles, xx. 21, where it is said that when Jehoshaphat went to battle against the hosts of Ammon "he placed a choir of singers in front of his army."
Wonderful indeed is the war song when studied as to its influence in early times on history. By the power of arms, by the spirit of conquest, did nations arise and continue to exist. The warrior made the nation, and the poet sang and immortalized the warrior's fame; and thus it came to pass that great honor was bestowed upon the poets. Among old Arab tribes, fires were lighted and great rejoicings made by their warriors when a poet had manifested himself among them, for in his songs they anticipated their own glory. In many ancient countries, the bards that sang of battles were regarded as really inspired, and their poetic productions were considered as the language of the gods. Centuries passed before that admiration bestowed upon the singer of war songs was impaired. The ancient literature of many European countries presents numerous indications that the warrior-poets were treated with great consideration; were forgiven by their sovereigns for serious offences on condition that they write a new war song, and were paid what would seem at this day enormous prices for their compositions. It is related that on one occasion King Athelstane, of the Anglo-Saxons, paid a poet sixteen ounces of pure gold for a laudatory song. When the greater value of gold in that distant age is considered, it is probable that no living poet is better paid for his productions than was this old singer whose ballads breathed of bloodshed and slaughter.
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