At the beginning of the battle in the morning all the teams had been harnessed, to be ready to move the wagons whenever wanted. The mules had not been fed for forty-eight hours, nor had they received a drop of water for half that time. The voice of a mule at its best is not melodious, and when to the ordinary sound of his bray is added a plaintive wail of suffering it falls distressingly on the ear. Lower and lower grew the note till it fell to a moan that was well calculated to banish sleep from any one not entirely worn out with exertion. So thought Harry, and after several vain endeavors he rose to his feet and joined one of the groups of soldiers and drivers who were discussing the situation.
During the evening the lines of the army were drawn in on the left and preparations were made to bring the forces of Sigel and Davis, who had suffered but slightly during the day, to the relief of the worn out division of General Carr. The concentration was completed by midnight: General Davis's division was placed on the left, General Carr's in the center, and the two divisions of General Sigel held the right of our line. Thus arranged, the brunt of the fighting would be concentrated on Sigel's command in case the rebels remained in the positions where they were at nightfall. In case they had changed during the night, it would enable General Carr to be quickly re-enforced if the odds against him should be as heavy as they were on the day before.
Harry rode out to the front again a little before daylight, and as he passed along the road he heard the sound of vocal music rolling up from the German regiments that composed the greater part of General Sigel's command. He was unacquainted with German, and so the words of the song were unknown to him, but the music under the circumstances sounded strangely. “And yet,” he remarked to himself, “it seems to me that I've read of something of the kind somewhere else.
“Now I remember,” said he, suddenly, as he straightened in his saddle; “it was in the Crimean war, the night before the storming of the Malakofï and Redan and the capture of Sebastopol. I recall it all now; the whole British army in the trenches sang the words of a Scottish air, with which all were familiar, and the story has been told in verse by Bayard Taylor. Here are some of his lines:
“'They sang of love, and not of fame,
Forgot was Britain's glory.
Each heart recalled a different name
But all sang Annie Laurie.
“'Voice after voice caught up the song,
Until its tender passion
Rose like an anthem rich and strong,
Their battle eve's confession.
“'Dear girl, the name he dared not speak
Yet as the song grew louder,
Something upon the soldier's cheek
Washed off the stain of powder.
“'And Irish Nora's eyes are dim
For a singer dumb and gory;
And English Mary mourns for him
Who sang of Annie Laurie.
“'Sleep, soldiers, in your honored rest,
Your truth and valor bearing;
The bravest are the tenderest,
The loving are the daring.'
“Perhaps that's a love song the Germans are singing,” thought Harry, as he paused in repeating the lines of the verses given above, “and they are acting over again the scene of the attack on Sebastopol. I hope the battle will turn out as well for us as did that one for the allied army of the English and French.”
Daybreak came and then sunrise. Harry had hoped for a clear morning, but his hopes were doomed to disappointment. During the previous day the smoke had frequently hung thickly over the field, at times rendering the combatants invisible to each other and greatly hindering the movements on both sides. All through that cool and almost frosty night the smoke hung low over the ground, and as the sun rose on the morning of the eighth of March it pierced through a cloud that seemed more like fog than any thing else, and was first visible as a dull ball of copper, on which the youth could easily fix his eyes without blinking. The sun showed itself only a short time and then the sky became overcast, and for a while it looked as though the day might be rainy.
We will now listen to Harry's account of the last day's fighting.
“I thought they would begin at daylight, and so did everybody else; or at any rate, everybody was ready on our side for the opening of the battle. But though we could see the rebels in strong force right in front of us, and evidently as ready as we were, there was hardly a shot fired, except by the skirmishers, until after eight o'clock. They left the opening of the day's work to us, and we did n't go about it till we were 'good and ready.'
“General Curtis intended the heaviest of the fighting for General Sigel's two divisions, as they had suffered least on the day before. The rebels had been busy during the night, and planted some of their batteries on a hill perhaps a hundred feet high, which sloped away to the north, but was quite steep on the face toward us. It was very much such a position as we had at Sugar Creek, where the enemy wisely chose not to attack. Now we had no choice but to attack them, and they were prepared for a vigorous defense, as they had large masses of supporting infantry at the base of the hill on both sides, and also several pieces of artillery scattered among the infantry.