Produced by Avinash Kothare, Tom Allen, Eric Eldred, Charles
Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
By
The fog made the clothes of the men of the column in the roadway seemof a luminous quality. It imparted to the heavy infantry overcoats anew colour, a kind of blue which was so pale that a regiment might havebeen merely a long, low shadow in the mist. However, a muttering, onepart grumble, three parts joke, hovered in the air above the thickranks, and blended in an undertoned roar, which was the voice of thecolumn.
The town on the southern shore of the little river loomed spectrally, afaint etching upon the grey cloud-masses which were shifting with oilylanguor. A long row of guns upon the northern bank had been pitiless intheir hatred, but a little battered belfry could be dimly seen stillpointing with invincible resolution toward the heavens.
The enclouded air vibrated with noises made by hidden colossal things.The infantry tramplings, the heavy rumbling of the artillery, made theearth speak of gigantic preparation. Guns on distant heights thunderedfrom time to time with sudden, nervous roar, as if unable to endure insilence a knowledge of hostile troops massing, other guns going toposition. These sounds, near and remote, defined an immensebattle-ground, described the tremendous width of the stage of theprospective drama. The voices of the guns, slightly casual, unexcitedin their challenges and warnings, could not destroy the unutterableeloquence of the word in the air, a meaning of impending struggle whichmade the breath halt at the lips.
The column in the roadway was ankle-deep in mud. The men swore piouslyat the rain which drizzled upon them, compelling them to stand alwaysvery erect in fear of the drops that would sweep in under theircoat-collars. The fog was as cold as wet cloths. The men stuffed theirhands deep in their pockets, and huddled their muskets in their arms.The machinery of orders had rooted these soldiers deeply into the mud,precisely as almighty nature roots mullein stalks.
They listened and speculated when a tumult of fighting came from thedim town across the river. When the noise lulled for a time theyresumed their descriptions of the mud and graphically exaggerated thenumber of hours they had been kept waiting. The general commandingtheir division rode along the ranks, and they cheered admiringly,affectionately, crying out to him gleeful prophecies of the comingbattle. Each man scanned him with a peculiarly keen personal interest,and afterward spoke of him with unquestioning devotion and confidence,narrating anecdotes which were mainly untrue.
When the jokers lifted the shrill voices which invariably belonged tothem, flinging witticisms at their comrades, a loud laugh would sweepfrom rank to rank, and soldiers who had not heard would lean forwardand demand repetition. When were borne past them some wounded men withgrey and blood-smeared faces, and eyes that rolled in that helplessbeseeching for assistance from the sky which comes with s