Chapter XXXIV: Wings Gallant Charge

“Spare man nor steed, use utmost speed,
Before the sun goes down,
You, sir, must ride,” the colonel cried,
“As far as Pendletown.”
“Colonel,” the brave young man saith,
“To hear is to obey!
Comrades! the path is fringed with death!
Who rides with me to-day?”—EDMUNDUS SCOTUS.

Every one knows how hopefully the campaign of the Spring of 1864 opened. In almost every engagement the Union arms triumphed.

Colonel Rosenthal’s regiment performed their parts of duty, suffered their share of casualties and received their meed of glory.

But the glory of war is inseparable from the gloom of death. The regiment was decimated. And it had to be filled up with raw recruits. And Adjutant Wing, for “gallant and meritorious conduct,” was promoted to the rank of Captain and placed at the head of Company K. in a position rendered vacant by the casualties of war.

At this time the regiment was stationed at the town of C.

On the afternoon of the day when Wing received his captain’s commission, he entered the quarters of his colonel, and saluting him respectfully, said in a tone rather of reproach than of gratitude, for he was by no means elated at the change:

“I presume that I have to thank you for this promotion, sir?”

“Not so, adjutant. I confess that I am selfish enough to desire always to retain you at headquarters. No—I had nothing to do with the affair beyond speaking of you as you deserved in my report. With a soldier, to hear is to obey, Wing. And whether I like to lose my adjutant or not, and whether you like to leave the office or not, you must assume command of your company before the dress-parade at sunset,” said Colonel Rosenthal.

Wing bowed and left his colonel’s presence.

And at the dress-parade he appeared with his captain’s straps at the head of his company.

But if Wing was not satisfied with his promotion, neither was his company satisfied with their captain. Apparently there was no love lost between them.

When the dress-parade was over and the men at liberty to rove over the camp and gather in groups to smoke or gossip, the members of company K were heard to indulge in mutterings of discontent, not loud but deep. Before the appointment of Wing as their captain, company K had been commanded by a tall, stalwart, athletic first lieutenant, who was very popular among the men. And this circumstance made the “baby adjutant,” as they called him, still less acceptable as their captain.

“To put _that_ little fellow over us! a mere lad!” indignantly growled Sergeant Copley.

“Looks like a girl in boy’s clothes!” grumbled Corporal Bang.

“‘Boy,’ ‘girl?’ Why he is a mere infant!” exclaimed Corporal West.

“A mere threadpaper! a mere cobweb! I wonder how he’ll stand fire!” laughed Sergeant Jones.

“I wonder what the devil the Secretary of War could have been thinking of!” muttered Corporal Quartz.

“I should like to see him in an engagement once!” said Copley.

“And so should I!”

“And I!”—muttered each malcontent in his turn.

For even so freely would the best disciplined soldiers canvass the characters of their superior officers, in their absence.

“I’ll tell you what, boys,” said Sergeant Hay, “you are talking of one you know nothing about. Captain Wing has been in the service less than a year and has already distinguished himself on several notable occasions.”

“Oh yes! we dare say he made a very good spy to creep into guerrilla camps. We heard all about that. And no doubt he was a very fair accountant and kept the regimental books in good order. But we want to see him under fire before we throw up our caps and hurrah for him as our captain,” laughed West.

“He has been under fire a score of times and never blenched. And I can tell you this, my comrades: When you _do_ see him under fire, you will see one who will not _drive_ you like sheep, but _lead_ you like men. You will see one who will not get behind a tree during the engagement and cry—‘_Go_ on, boys!’ as some of our gallant officers have done; but who will dash on in advance and shout to you—‘_Come_ on, boys!’ And if he does not inspire your whole company with valor, I know nothing of him.”

“We shall see,” said Sergeant Jones, incredulously.

“We shall see,” echoed the others.

Very soon they had an opportunity of seeing.

The next morning the third battalion of the regiment under Major Kerr, the same battalion to which Company K belonged, was ordered to march to P. to destroy certain saltpetre works belonging to the enemy. P. was a well fortified town, distant about forty miles from C., and the intervening country was infested with guerrillas.

The orders were issued at seven o’clock in the morning. By half-past seven the battalion was under arms, with two days’ rations. And at eight o’clock they marched.

Their road lay for some miles through the mountainous and heavily wooded country east of C. Then through open fields and meadows, and lastly into the depths of the valley forest.

At noon they halted for an hour’s rest and refreshment, that men and horses might be in good fighting order when they should arrive at their destination.

Then they continued their march until they emerged from the forest and entered upon the more open country, diversified with hills and valleys, groves and meadows, brooks and rivers.

Winding between the hills, striking across the meadows and fording the rivers, they at length came in sight of the entrenched saltpetre works.

Then a momentary halt was called; an order was given; the bugle sounded the charge, and the whole cavalry force advanced at a gallop.

A fierce fire was immediately opened upon them from behind the breastworks.

In the hail of bullets a man fell here and there, and a riderless horse bounded out of the line of march and rushed madly over the plain. And these gallant men dashed onward under that storm of death to take the works by assault.

But presently a more serious danger menaced them. The one section of a battery possessed by the rebels of this post consisted of two guns. These guns were now brought into position and trained so as to bear directly upon the right flank of the approaching column; and the first shot fired, at so short a distance, took fatal effect, tearing its way through, and leaving a track of death filled up with riders and horses overthrown, struggling, wounded, mutilated, dying, or dead.

“CAPTAIN WING! advance with your company and take that battery!” shouted the major commanding the expedition.

For one instant Wing looked up astonished; for the order was a desperate one, and the duty well nigh a forlorn hope.

Only for that instant did Wing betray his amazement. Then he fully verified the prediction of Hay. Waving his sabre above his head he shouted:

“Come on, boys!” put spurs to his horse and dashed forward, leading the charge.

What man among them would not have followed that “light, inspired form,” to seek glory even “in the cannon’s mouth?”

Like an angel of destruction he rushed onward, followed by all his men.

The enemy, seeing this new movement, turned their guns as quickly as possible upon the charging party.

The first shot in this direction, as on the former occasion, tore its way through the centre of the advancing body, strewing mutilated and dying men and horses in its track, and leaving even those who were unhurt half disabled by their restive horses.

They were now approaching the battery by a very broad road, bordered on each side by high wooded banks.

An instant’s hesitation now on the part of Wing must have been fatal to the success of the expedition. But there was no such hesitation.

“CLOSE ON THE CENTRE—FORWARD!” came the deep, sweet, solemn tones of the young leader.

And the men closed in close columns, filling up the gap torn by the cannon ball, and, over the dead and dying, galloped onward.

Again came the shot booming from the battery, and ripping its way through the middle of the advancing column, scattering men and horses dead and dying upon the ground.

“CLOSE ON THE CENTRE—FORWARD!” again sounded the voice of the young leader.

And again the men filled up the gap and galloped onward.

Once more a shot came splitting its way through the middle of the column, strewing its path with the dead and the dying. Once more came the solemn voice of the leader.

“CLOSE ON THE CENTRE—FORWARD!”

And as before the men closed up the column and continued the march.

A fourth, a fifth, and a sixth shot was fired, each with tremendous effect.

And after each was still to be heard, like the voice of an inexorable fate, the solemn tones of the young leader, issuing his immutable order:

“CLOSE ON THE CENTRE—FORWARD!”

And although their number was reduced by the loss of at least one third of their men, they grimly closed column over the dead and the dying, and pushed onward.

And in three minutes after the sixth shot had been fired, they were upon the works, engaged in a stern hand to hand conflict with the enemy.

After a short, sharp struggle of less than half an hour they took the battery, captured two guns, and fifty rounds of ammunition, and thirty prisoners.

The way into the town from this quarter was now clear. And Wing marched in at the head of his company. And soon over the rebel works the Union flag waved in triumph. About twenty minutes later Major Kerr, at the head of the other three companies, marched into the town. His men had suffered much under the galling fire of musketry that had opposed their entrance previous to Wing’s taking possession of the town.

One captain, two lieutenants and about twenty privates were killed. And two lieutenants and about forty privates were severely wounded.

Major Kerr came up just in time to relieve Captain Wing of a certain responsibility that he always detested—namely the burning of the town.

Wing’s taste was more for fighting than for destruction, and naturally he had taken the town, but hesitated to burn it.

Major Kerr’s taste was more for destruction than for fighting, therefore he had let Wing capture the town, and had followed him in to destroy it.

Wing pleaded hard for the salvation of private dwelling houses, but, in fact, it was impossible to effectually destroy the saltpetre works without sacrificing the whole town.

The women and children were sent out to a place of safety. The prisoners were dispatched to the rear; and then the work of destruction commenced.

And that night witnessed an awful conflagration, that lighted up a vast amphitheatre of country, and carried consternation as far as its flames were seen.

And the next morning the sun arose upon a blackened and smoking mass of ruins, where once the thriving village had stood.

The forenoon was employed by our troops in burying the dead and in attending to the wounded. These last mentioned were placed in ambulances to be transported back to C.

And at midday the battalion was under arms and prepared to march.

They reached C. about nightfall, carrying with them the news of the complete success of the expedition.

Major Kerr made a true report of the action, giving Captain Wing his just dues of praise.

And the next morning Colonel Rosenthal sent for Wing, and expressed his high approbation of that young officer’s heroism.

“There is not a man in my company, Colonel, who does not merit as much praise as you have kindly bestowed upon me,” answered Wing respectfully.

“And they shall receive it. But the wonder to me is, Wing, that you were not hurt, leading the men as you did to that terrible charge. You were not even slightly wounded, were you?”

“Not even scratched, Colonel.”

“Pray do you wear a magic armor under your uniform, Wing?”

“Not that I know of, Colonel,” laughed the young officer.

“You have been in at least half a dozen battles, and never once been wounded.”

“Never yet, Colonel. But I have a presentiment that if I ever am struck, I shall not be wounded but killed,” said the boy officer gravely.

“Nonsense, Wing, I don’t believe in presentiments. I never had a presentiment fulfilled in my life,” laughed the colonel.

At that moment an orderly entered the quarters, saluted, and handed a small sealed packet to his colonel.

Colonel Rosenthal broke it open and read it hastily, changed color as he never had done on the most fiercely fought battle-field, and then he passed the paper to Wing, saying:

“You see it is a telegram summoning me immediately to Washington, and it must be acted upon without delay.”

Wing also grew very pale as he read the dispatch. He returned it without a word.

Colonel Rosenthal immediately put himself in communication with the general commanding his division, and the next day, having obtained a short furlough, left for Washington.

A very few hours after the departure of Colonel Rosenthal, Captain Wing applied for ten days’ leave of absence for the purpose of visiting a dear friend supposed to be at the point of death.

As this was the first occasion upon which the brave young officer had made an application of the sort, and as he had so recently rendered a distinguished service, it was promptly granted him.

And the next morning Wing also left for Washington.