Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1909-07-07
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Northern Virginia laughed at their
miseries and dubbed themselves
grimly Lees Miserables." Truly
they we're "The Wretchsd"-those
soldiers of the Army of Northern
Virginia-in the fall and winter of
1864. They had a quarter of
pound of rancid Nassau bacon"
h from New England, for the daily ra-
tion of meat. The handful of flour
or corn meal which they received
was musty; coffee and sugar were
doled out as luxury, now and then
only; little grease" and corn
bread-the grease rancid and the
bread musty-these were the food of
the army. Their clothes, blankets
and shoes were no better-even
worse. Only at long intervals could
the government issue new ones to
them.
Thus the army was in tatters. The
old clothes hung on the men like
scarecrows. Their gray jackets were
in rags, and did not keep out the
chilly wind sweeping over the frozen
fields. Their old blankets were in
shreds and gave them little warmth
when they wrapped themselves up
in them, shivering in the long, cold
nights. The old shoes, patched and
yawning, had served in many
march and battle, and now allowed
the naked sole to touch the hard and
frosty ground. Happy the man with
new blanket; proud the possessor
of a whole roundabout. What mil
lionaire or favorite child of fortune
passes yonder?-the owner Of an
unpatched pair of shoes.
Such were the rations and clothes
of the army at that epoch--rancid
grease, musty meal, tattered Jackets
and worn-out shoes. And these were
the fortunate ones. Whole divisions
often went without bread even for
two days at time. Thousands had
no jackets and no shoes. Gaunt
forms, in ragged old shirts and torn
pantaloons only, clutched the mus
ket. At night they huddled toge-
ther for warmth by the fire in the
trenches. When they charged, their
naked feet left blood-marks on the
abatis through which they went at
the enemy.
That is not an eXaggeration, my
reader These facts are of record
1NU .naD WAS u pat only. 1t was
Got unIy ramm" nnd hardships which
u"y endured, bur the incessant COM
hs'e uu1 mortal ledium of the
trenches. All, the trenches, Those
words summed up whole volume
of suffering. No longer fighting in
the open field; no longer winter
quarters, with power and range; no
longer freedom, fresh air, healthful
movement. The trenches Here,
cooped up and hampered at every
turn, they fought through all those
long months of the dark autumn and
winter of 1864. They were no
longer men, but machines, loading
and firing the musket and the can
non. Burrowing in their holes and
subterranean cover ways, they
crouched in the darkness, rose at the
sound of coming battle, manned the
Abreastworks or trained the cannon.
Day after day, week after week, and
month after month they were there
in the trenches at their grim work;
and some fate of destiny seemed to
have chained them there to battle
forever. At midnight, as at noon,
they were at their post. In the dark
ness dusky figures could be seen
swinging the sponge-staff, swabbing
the cannon, driving home the charge.
In the starlight, the moonlight, or
\ the gloom lit by the red glare, those
I4fgures, resembling phantoms, were
seen marshalled behind the breast.
works to repel the coming assault.
Silence had fed from the trenches.
The crash of musketry and the bel
low of artillery had replaced It, That
seemed never to cease. The men
were rocked to sleep by it; they
slept in the dark trenches, though
the mortar shells rose, described
their flaming courses, and, bursting,
rained Jagged fragments of iron
upon them. And to many that was
their last sleep. The iron tore them
in their tattered blankets; they
arose gasping and streaming with
blood; then they staggered and fell.