One, with a loud, defiant laugh,
Left his comrades and neared the staff.
"Down!" came the fearless patriot's cry,
"Dare to lower that flag and die!
One must bleed for it—you or I."
But caring not for the stern command,
He drew the halliards with daring hand;
Ping! went the rifle ball—down he came,
Under the flag he had tried to shame—
Old Ishmael Day took careful aim!
Seventy winters and three had shed
Their snowy glories on Ishmael's head.
Though cheeks may wither and locks grow gray,
His fame shall be fresh and young alway—
Honor be to old Ishmael Day!
Hooker, meanwhile, was almost wholly in the dark concerning the position of Lee's army, until it was partially revealed to him on June 17, 1863, when Kilpatrick's cavalry charged and drove back the Confederate cavalry as it emerged from Ashby's Gap. Still he hesitated, and the whole of western Pennsylvania appeared to be at the mercy of the invaders.
RIDING WITH KILPATRICK
[June 17, 1863]
Dawn peered through the pines as we dashed at the ford;
Afar the grim guns of the infantry roared;
There were miles yet of dangerous pathway to pass,
And Mosby might menace, and Stuart might mass;
But we mocked every doubt, laughing danger to scorn,
As we quaffed with a shout from the wine of the morn.
Those who rode with Kilpatrick to valor were born!
How we chafed at delay! How we itched to be on!
How we yearned for the fray where the battle-reek shone!
It was forward, not halt, stirred the fire in our veins,
When our horses' feet beat to the click of the reins;
It was charge, not retreat, we were wonted to hear;
It was charge, not retreat, that was sweet to the ear;
Those who rode with Kilpatrick had never felt fear!
At last the word came, and troop tossed it to troop;
Two squadrons deployed with a falcon-like swoop;
While swiftly the others in echelons formed,
For there, just ahead, was the line to be stormed.
The trumpets rang out; there were guidons a-blow;
The white summer sun set our sabres a-glow;
Those who rode with Kilpatrick charged straight at the foe!