Something for the weekend. Shiloh’s Hill. This moving song on the battle of Shiloh is based on a poem written by M. G. Smith who fought in the battle with Company C, 2nd Texas Volunteer Infantry. The song is performed by the 97th New York regimental string band.
Come all ye valiant soldiers — a story I will tell
About the bloody battle that was fought on Shiloh Hill.
It was an awful struggle and will cause your blood to chill;
It was the famous battle that was fought on Shiloh Hill.
‘Twas on the sixth of April, just at the break of day;
The drums and fifes were playing for us to march away.
The feeling of that hour I do remember still,
When first my feet were tromping on the top of Shiloh Hill.
About the hour of sunrise the battle it began;
Before the day was ended, we fought ’em hand to hand.
The horrors of that field did my heart with anguish fill
For the wounded and the dying that lay on Shiloh Hill.
There were men from every nation laid on those bloody plains,
Fathers, sons, and brothers were numbered with the slain,
That has caused so many homes with deep mourning to be filled,
All from the bloody battle that was fought on Shiloh Hill.
The wounded men were crying for help from everywhere,
While others who were dying were offering God their prayer,
“Protect my wife and children if it is Thy holy will!”
Such were the prayers I heard that night on Shiloh Hill.
And early the next morning we were called to arms again,
Unmindful of the wounded and unuseful to the slain;
The struggle was renewed again, and ten thousand men were killed;
This was the second conflict of the famous Shiloh Hill.
The battle it raged on, though dead and dying men
Lay thick all o’er the ground, on the hill and on the glen;
And from their deadly wounds, the blood ran like a rill;
Such were the mournful sights that I saw on Shiloh Hill.
Before the day was ended, the battle ceased to roar,
And thousands of brave soldiers had fell to rise no more;
They left their vacant ranks for some other ones to fill,
And now their mouldering bodies all lie on Shiloh Hill.
And now my song is ended about those bloody plains;
I hope the sight by mortal man may ne’er be seen again!
But I pray to God, the Saviour, “If consistent with Thy will,
To save the souls of all who fell on bloody Shiloh Hill.”