Away, away,"
and that we should never again see anything of him but his back. Alas! for the presumption. And alas! for the presumption of the innumerable company and fellowship of cooks, camp-followers, and mule-drivers, who, emboldened by the quietude of the last few days, had ventured to come up from the rear, and had joined each his respective regiment, and were marching along bravely enough, as on the evening of this same May 23d we approached North Anna River, which we were to cross at a place called Jericho Ford. As we came near to the river, we found the supply and ammunition-trains "parked" to the rear of a wood a short distance from Jericho, so that as we halted for a while in the edge of the woods nearest to the stream, everything wore so quiet and unsuspicious a look, that no one dreamed of the enemy being anywhere near at hand. Under the impression that we should probably halt there for the night, I gathered up a number of the boys' canteens and started out in search of water, taking my course toward an open meadow which lay to the right and close to the river's edge. There was a cornfield off to the left, across which I could see the troops leisurely marching in the direction of the bridge. As I stooped down to fill my canteens, another man came up on the same errand as had brought me there. From where I was, I could see the bridge full of troops and the general rabble of camp followers carelessly crossing. But scarcely had I more than half filled my first canteen, when the enemy, lying concealed in the woods on the other side of the river, opened fire.
Boom! Bang! Whir-r-r! Chu-ck!
"Hello!" said I to my companion, "the ball is going to open!"
"Yes," answered he with a drawl and a certain supercilious look, as if to intimate that few besides himself had ever heard a shell crack before—"Yes; but when you have heard as many shells busting about your head as I have"—
Whir-r-r! Chu-ck! I could hear the terrific shriek of the shell overhead, and the sharp thud of the pieces as they tore up the meadow sod to the right and left of us; whereupon my brave and boastful friend, leaving his sentence to be completed and his canteens to be filled some other day, cut for the rear at full speed, ducking his head as he went. Finding an old gateway near by, with high stone posts on either side, I took refuge there; and feeling tolerably safe behind my tall defence, turned about and looked toward the river. It is said that there is but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous; and surely laughable indeed was the scene which greeted my eyes. Everything was in confusion, and all was helter-skelter, skurry, and skedaddle. There was the bridge in open view, full of a struggling mass of men, horses, and mules,—the troops trying to force their way over to the other side, and the yelling crowd of camp-followers equally bent on forcing their way back; some jumping or being tumbled off the bridge, while others were swept, nolens volens, over to the other side, and there began to plunge into the dirty ooze of the stream, with the evident intention of getting on the safe side of things as speedily as possible, while all the time the shells flew shrieking and screaming through the air as though the demons had been let loose. Between me and the river was a last year's cornfield, over which the rabble now came swift and full, fear furnishing wings to flight,—and happy indeed was he who had no mule to take care of! One poor fellow who had had his mule heavily laden with camp equipage when he crossed over, was now making for the rear with his mule at a full trot, but in sad plight himself; for he was hatless, covered with mud, and quite out of breath, had lost saddle, bag, and baggage, and had nothing left but himself, the mule, and the halter. Another immediately in front of me had come on well enough until he arrived in the middle of the open field, where the shells were falling rather thick, when his mule took it into his head that flight was disgraceful, and that he would retreat no farther,—no, not an inch. There he stood like a rock, the poor driver pulling at his halter and frantically kicking the beast in the ribs, but all to no avail; while all around him, and past him, swept the crowd of his fellow cooks and coffee-coolers in full flight for the rear.
As soon as the firing began to cease a little, I started off for the regiment, which had meanwhile changed position. In searching for it, I passed the forage and ammunition-trains, which were parked to the rear of the woods, and within easy range of the enemy's guns,—which latter fact the enemy, fortunately, did not know. One who has not actually seen them can scarcely form any adequate idea of the vast numbers of white-covered wagons which followed our armies, carrying food, forage, and ammunition; nor can any one who has not actually witnessed a panic among the drivers of these wagons, form any conception of the terror into which they were sometimes thrown. The drivers of the ammunition-wagons were especially anxious to keep well out of range of shells,—and no wonder! For if a shot from the enemy's guns were to fall amongst a lot of wagons laden with percussion shells, the result may perhaps be imagined. It was no wonder, therefore, that the driver of an ammunition-wagon, with six mules in front of him and several tons of death and destruction behind him, felt somewhat nervous when he heard the whirr of the shells over the tops of the pines.
In searching for the regiment I passed one of these trains. A commissary sergeant was dealing out forage to his men, who were standing around him in a circle, each holding open a bag for his oats, which the commissary was alternately dealing out to them with a bucket,—a bucketful to this man, then to the next, and so on around the circle. It was plain, however, to any observer that he was more concerned about the shells than interested in the oats, for he dodged his head every time a shell cracked, which happened just about the time he was in the act of pouring a bucketful of oats into a bag.
While I was looking at them, Page, a Michigan boy who was well known to me, came up on his horse in search of our division forage train, for he was orderly to our brigadier-general, and wanted oats for his horses. Stopping a moment to contemplate the scene I was admiring, he said,—
"You just keep an eye on my horse a minute, will you, and I'll show you how I get oats for my horses when forage is scarce."