Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, POETIC HISTORY OF THE 7TH IOWA REGIMENT: SECOND DAY'S BATTLE, by GEORGE S. RUTHERFORD



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

POETIC HISTORY OF THE 7TH IOWA REGIMENT: SECOND DAY'S BATTLE, by                    
First Line: The army of buell came forth with the light
Last Line: A little good water while they might remain.
Subject(s): American Civil War; Shiloh, Battle Of (1862); U.s. - History


The Army of Buell came forth with the light,
And soon put a different face on this fight,
For those who had pushed us so hard the first day,
Before these fresh veterans fled off in dismay.

From seven till three, with steady advance,
Our cannons and muskets both play on their ranks --
This field being sprinkled with hundreds of dead
General Beauregard's army ingloriously fled.

Victory perched on our banners on this bloody field,
Yet by Patriot's blood was this victory sealed;
And mothers and maidens are weeping in pain
O'er their husbands and lovers so ruthlessly slain.

The Seventh Iowa, when the battle was o'er,
Returned to their quarters sadly jaded and sore
On Tuesday evening, and quickly they found
Their tents filled with wounded from the late battle ground.

No other alternative being at hand,
Our lodging was made on this rain spattered land
For nearly a week, with no shelter at all
But the forest above us to break the rain's fall.

A week of such treatment was bitter at best;
But the boats bore the wounded to some place of rest,
And leaving our tents to the owners once more,
The lords of these quarters moved in as before.

The rains at this season set in with a rush,
Making causeways and bottoms a vortex of slush,
Keeping back for a season our engines of war,
Till the sun dried the mud and the roads were repaired.

Brave Halleck came to us in Shiloh at last,
Making noise and confusion events of the past;
While his plain, honest face with intelligence shines,
As the makes observations along our whole line.

From the dawn of the morn to the shadows of night,
All men are kept busy preparing to strike
Another good blow for our country and flag

When order attended our army once more,
All firm and majesticthey marched from the shore,
Over hills and on causeways, by them lately built,
And through tangled thickets for the enemy felt.
Against the arch traitors at Corinth, with Bragg.

It was thus by building our roads as we went,
Many days on this journey by our army was spent
Before we arrived within reach of the foe,
Who, before us, fell back to Corinth below.

Whe the distance to Corinth was just seven miles,
We threw up entrenchments and rested awhile;
Our General displaying good caution and care
In the lunch he intended should fall to their share.

But they slowly retired from our pioneers,
Who were backed by an army of brave volunteers,
Sent there for protection from the enemy's fire,
And these molesters of labor were compelled to retire.

A few days pass by and the way is made clear,
And our mighty army through the wilderness steer;
Yet this little journey, like others, must end
Where spades and good axes are made to defend.

More roads are made passable ere we advance
To a point of attack -- a good one perchance --
Building long lines ofbreastworks for soldier's defense,
Where blood might be spilt ere we should go hence.

Now we listen to skirmishes made on their wings,
Where musket shots rattle and grim cannons ring;
'Tis the death knell of many, who by these missiles fall,
Pure victims to Liberty's loud trumpet call.

Again preparations are made to advance
To the last line of breastworks, whose moments enhance
The hour of battle, which the rebels avoid,
While moving their baggage they had not destroyed.

The axes rang sharply along the whole line,
While Parrot guns thundered and muskets did shine;
And spades in the trenches were handled with speed,
As danger did thicken men felt their whole need.

They worked like true veterans, reeking with sweat,
First with spades, then with guns, as they never worked yet
Since the day they enlisted for country and flag --
There was no time for shirking or for any to lag.

Before we could finish this desirable job,
To strengthen the pickets our Company plods,
While the rest of the Regiment handle their steel,
And finish the pits with commendable zeal.

The night was disturbed by the scattering fire
From both lines of pickets, which was not required
To make the night pleasant to our Company's men,
Who heard the balls whistle above now and then.

But morning brought with it, as usual, relief,
With coffee and crackers to soften our grief,
And what was still better for soldiers oppressed,
By a want of their slumber, a season of rest.

Now for several nights we had frequent alarms;
When we ran to the breast works and seizing our arms
Prepared for the worst which a battle could bring
To an army at night possessing their things.

By miniature battles on the right and left wings,
With the center on picket these days were put in.
Till at last one fine morning an explosion was heard,
Whose tones plainly told of the flight of these birds.

When battle no longer could crown our just hopes,
Our brigade was transferred to the Army of Pope;
When our boys hurried off to Booneville away,
Which we used up in moving for five or six days.

This camp, like a desert, is choking with thirst,
Where creeks are dead water, and it some of the worst
Of any we tasted in our marches thus far,
Through the Land of Rebellion, now blasted with war [.]

A part of our drink was obtained from mud wells
In the beds of dry creeks in these Southern dells,
Where soldiers had dug in the hopes to obtain
A little good water while they might remain.





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