which greatly entertained Newton
and me, the two great soldiers, as if by some mysterious impulse,—for they did not speak a word,—simultaneously and slowly strode to the rear, where their horses were held.
I cheerfully give the ‘Johnny Rebs’ credit for the courtesy of not firing another shot after they saw the effect of the first, which I doubt not was intended only as a gentle hint that such impudence in Yankees was not to be tolerated.
Yet a single shell from the same direction,—probably from the same battery,--when we were moving into action that morning, exploded near my head, and killed the aide who was riding behind me.1
My too numerous staff and escort had attracted attention.
I had at Dalton
a few days before forbade the staff and escort to follow me into action, unless specially ordered to do so; but they had not so soon learned the lesson which the sad casualty at Resaca
It was then early in the campaign.
Later, both generals and orderlies had learned to restrain somewhat their curiosity and their too thoughtless bravery.
The perfect old soldier has learned to economize the life and strength of men, including his own, with somewhat the same care that he does those of artillery horses and transportation mules.
It is only the young soldier who does not know the difference between husbanding the national resources and showing cowardice in face of the enemy.
At Wilson's Creek
, where the brave Lyon
was killed in August. 1861, and where the gallant volunteers on both sides had fought with almost unexampled courage, standing up to their work all the time, until one third of their numbers were killed or wounded, and their forty rounds