"At that stern battle on Antietam's banks,
Where gallant Hooker led the fierce attack,
Paul bore a glorious part. Our starry flag,
Before a whirlwind of terrific fire,
Advancing proudly on the foe, went down.
Grim death and pale-faced panic seized the ranks.
Paul caught the flag and waving it aloft
Rallied our regiment. He came out unscathed.
"At Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville he fought:
Grim in disaster—bravest in defeat,
He leaped not into danger without cause,
Nor shrunk he from it though a gulf of fire,
When duty bade him face it. All his aim—
To win the victory; applause and praise
He almost hated; grimly he endured
The fulsome flattery of his comrades nerved
By his calm courage up to manlier deeds.
"I saw him angered once—if one might call
His sullen silence anger—as by night
Across the Rappahannock, from the field
Where brave and gallant 'Stonewall' Jackson fell,
With hopeless hearts and heavy steps we marched.
Such sullen wrath on other human face
I never saw in all those bloody years.
One evening after, as he read to me
The fulsome General Order of our Chief—
Congratulating officers and men
On their achievements in the late defeat—
His handsome face grew rigid as he read,
And as he closed, down like a thunder-clap
Upon the mess-chest fell his clinchèd fist:
'Fit pap for fools!' he said—'an Iron Duke
Had ground the Southern legions into dust,
Or, by the gods!—the field of Chancellorsville
Had furnished graves for ninety thousand men!'[[B]]
"That dark disaster sickened many a soul;
Stout hearts were sad and cowards cried for peace.
The vulture, perched hard by the eagle's crag,
Loud cawed his fellows from afar to feast.
Ill-omened bird—his carrion-cries were vain!
Again our veteran eagles plumed their wings,
And forth he fled from Montezuma's shores—
A dastard flight—betraying unto death
Him whom he dazzled with a bauble crown.
Just retribution followed swift and sure—
Germania's eagles plucked him at Sedan.
A gloomy month wore off, and then the news
That Lee, emboldened by his late success,
Had poured his legions upon Northern soil,
Rung through the camps, and thrilled the mighty heart
Of the Grand Army. Louder than the roar
Of brazen cannon on the battle-field.
Then rose and rolled our thunder-rounds of cheers.
We saw the dawn of victory—we should meet
Our wary foe upon familiar soil.
We cheered the news, we cheered the marching-orders,
We cheered our brave commander till the tears
Ran down his cheeks. Up from its sullen gloom
Leaped the Grand Army, as if God had writ
With fiery finger 'thwart the vault of heaven
A solemn promise of swift victory.
"We marched. As rolls the deep, resistless flood
Of Mississippi, when the rains of June
Have swelled his thousand northern fountain-lakes
Above their barriers—rolls with restless roar,
Anon through rock-built gorges, and anon
Down through the prairied valley to the sea,
Gleaming and glittering in the summer sun,
By field and forest on his winding way,
So stretched and rolled the mighty column forth,
Winding among the hills and pouring out
Along the vernal valleys; so the sheen
Of moving bayonets glittered in the sun.
And as we marched there rolled upon the air,
Up from the vanguard-corps, a choral chant,
Feeble at first and far and far away,
But gathering volume as it rolled along
And regiment after regiment joined the choir,
Until an hundred thousand voices swelled
The surging chorus, and the solid hills
Shook to the thunder of the mighty song.
And ere it died away along the line,
The hill-tops caught the chorus—rolled away
From peak to peak the pealing thunder-chant,
Clear as the chime of bells on Sabbath morn:
"'John Brown's body lies moldering in the grave;
John Brown's body lies moldering in the grave;
John Brown's body lies moldering in the grave;
But his soul is marching on.
Glory, Glory, Halleluia!
Glory, Glory, Halleluia!
Glory, Glory, Halleluia!
His soul is marching on!'
"And far away
The mountains echoed and re-echoed still—
"'Glory, Glory, Halleluia!
Glory, Glory, Halleluia!
Glory, Glory, Halleluia!
His soul is marching on!'
"Until the winds
Bore the retreating echoes southward far,
And the dull distance murmured in our ears.
"Fast by the field where gallant Baker fell,
We crossed the famous river and advanced
To Frederick. There a transitory cloud
Gloomed the Grand Army—Hooker was relieved:
Fell from command at victory's open gate
The dashing, daring, soul-inspiring chief,
The idol of his soldiers, and they mourned.
He had his faults—they were not faults of heart—
His gravest—fiery valor. Since that day,
The self-same fault—or virtue—crowned a chief
With laurel plucked on rugged Kenesaw.
Envy it was that wrought the hero's fall,
Envy, with hydra-heads and serpent-tongues,
Hissed on the wolfish clamors of the Press.
O fickle Fortune, how thy favors fall—
Like rain upon the just and the unjust!
Throughout the army, as the soldiers read
The farewell-order, gloomy murmurs ran;
But our new chieftain cheered our drooping hearts.