Cleveland morning leader. [volume] (Cleveland [Ohio]) 1854-1865, 1862-02-04
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Camp Life on SundaY---Scenes In Cairo.
A correspondent of the Boston Journal,
writing from the Federal camp at Cairo, Ill,
thus describes Sunday scene:
"Pieking our way along the sidewalk We
meet crowd Of citizens and soldiers The
shops are open. Here is man returning
from market with fresh beef, pork, potatoes,
aad turnips in bis basket At agingei bread
stall half dozen soldiers are taking lunch.
The tobacco shops and oyster saloons are
thronged. The men who keep stationery
and yellOw-coVered novels tor sale-the 'Pi.
rate olzlhe Gulf the Legend Of the Rocky
Mountains Maggie Merton or the Disown-
ed-hRve a crowd at their counters. The
artists have their saloons open. Through an
open door I zee q soldier in position before
the camera, sitting for his daguerreotype.-
The train is just in from Chicago, bringing
the papers, and the boys are crying the latest
intelligence. The clothing stores, the groceA
ries the variety stores are all open the
wholesale dry and heavy stores only are shut.
A gentleman passed Just now bearing q big
boek under his arm. tAh, said he, with a
sigh, to me, tthere is no rest for the weary
War is inexorabIe in its demands. Truly it
las Dt6u 5hAu bucEo - no Ouudhy III MhEs
"VArious sre the lights and shades. There
are laughable and solemn scenes. Yonder
is the hospital. A file of soldiers Is at the
door, and a wagon. Two soldiers enter the
building and return, bringing plain coffin.
They lay it in the wagon. The fife begins
its mournful notes, the drum its mufled
beat. With reversed arms they move away,
bearing to his last home their comrade.-
There is something in su3h q scene to touch
the heart of the hardest man. A few months
ago, and he, the dead, was citizen, with
no thought Of being a soldier. But in the
hour of his couRtTy's danger he became q
patriot, ready to die in her defence. he is
dead he has yielded to disease, not to the
enemy. If he had not become a soldier, he
might for aught we know, have been alive
and well to. day. The greatest losses of Az
mics are not on the battle field, but in hos
pitals Far from home and friends, with
none but strangers to attend him, to minister
to his wants, to comfort him, to talk to him
of better world than this, be gave up his
life for his country. A week hence, in
some farmhouse or village, fond father
or mother will break the seal Of a
letter. They viii read the sad news, writ
ten by strangers hand, that their son Is no
more. In many cottage among the New
England hills such letters have been receiV-
ed. But win not dwell upon tais scene
lest awaken sad thoughts in the mind of
many q mOurner.
81 should like to have an artist in front of
the Presbyterian church to sketch the scene.
Here we are cleaning our boots bs'Ore en-
tering the house. Our pants are tucked in
side the boot legs, and here we stand, if
teen or twenty Of rs, minister included,
cleaning up, each with a stick scraping of
the mud. Some of us stand upon the steps
leading TO the church some have one foot
upon the fence, but we are all bowed down.
Without any approach to irreverence, we
may say that our feet stood in miry places.
do not see how it is possible for men to be
very gOdly in this place, for among the
virtues cleanliness Is next to godliness. Here
It is q natural inability for g man to be
clean. Memory VIII retain as one Of the
most ludicrous scenes Of life, this dsy's
scraPe before the church at Cairo.n