THE NORFOLK RAILROAD.
What wonder if the mouth is grim,
That said so many swift “Goodbyes?”
Life’s common words are idle breath,
Beside those earnest battle cries.
What wonder if the gaze is dim,
And yonder strangely lingers yet?
The eye that has looked straight at death,
His image may not soon forget!
_Unknown._
On the 12th of June, General Grant changed his plan of operations, and
started us off for the James river. Our corps crossed the Chickahominy
river at Long Bridge, marched southward to the James river, and on the
16th of June, the Army of the Potomac was on the right bank of the
James, preparing for a fresh start in another direction. As we went
up in front of Petersburg on the 18th of June, we were double quicked
across an open field, and made a dash on the Norfolk railroad, where we
made a stand.
It was in this charge that our beloved colonel, George L. Prescott,
fell mortally wounded, while leading his men. He died the next day, and
the whole brigade mourned his loss; he was a brave soldier, and a good
man; always kind to his men, he treated them like brothers.
Many a time have I known him to let a sick man have his blanket, and
then bunk in with a private who was lucky enough to have such an
article. More than once has he slept with me, rolled up in the same
blanket, and I always felt that in him I had a true friend. By his
kind and generous words and deeds he had endeared himself to the whole
brigade, and today many an old veteran reveres his memory, even as I do.
His body was brought home, and buried with his kindred in Sleepy Hollow
cemetery, at Concord, Mass. I have visited his grave since the war, and
as I stood in the pleasant spot where he sleeps so peacefully, I could
but recall the memories of that terrible scene, when he laid his life
on the altar of his country.
We had hot work all that day; again we charged the enemy, and drove
them into their last line of works. This enabled us to establish our
line on the crest of the hill. Near this place the mine was made that
was exploded on the 30th of July, a little over a month later.
It was in this charge that a minie ball grazed my check, which soon
swelled so that my comrades hardly recognized me. For a week or more,
my jaw was rather stiff and sore, so that I could not eat hard bread;
this made it rather inconvenient, as I was blessed with a good appetite
and could not get much else but the old reliable “Hard tack” to eat,
but I was not disabled, and did my duty as usual.
It was about noon, during a lull in the fight, that we saw a large
turkey strut proudly into the centre of a deep ravine, that lay between
us and the enemy’s lines. Instantly every musket in our company was
aimed at that poor turkey gobbler. When the smoke cleared away, we saw
him still undisturbed in his foraging; we stood astonished until one
of us happened to remember that our guns were sighted for 200 yards
distance. He hastily lowered the sight, and spang went the deadly
messenger into the heart of that devoted bird. When the fight was over,
we picked up the fowl, and cooked him for our supper.
That night we spent in throwing up earthworks with our bayonets and tin
plates, and by morning we had some works from which the enemy could
not drive us, though they made several attempts. Our works were never
advanced beyond this line until Petersburg was taken.
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