The Bivouac and the Battlefield, Or, Campaign Sketches in Virginia and Maryland (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1864 edition. Excerpt: ...greatly attracted me. As I stood and looked down earnestly, as if, perhaps, I might read in that countenance some fragments of his history, I felt that this was a man who probably illustrated some of the best features of the Southern character--a warm-hearted, generous fellow, whom while living I could have loved. There's a sad gap somewhere caused by this death; perhaps the plain gold ring on his finger might give us the key to his whole life-story. How all feeling of enmity disappears in presence of these white faces, these eyes gazing upward so fixedly in the gray of the morning hour The ground was of course strewn with muskets, swords, and military trappings of every description; but I needed no such mementoes to aid my recollections of this battle. Some of our men were, however, picking up these spoils of war, and on returning from the left I saw two or three kneeling and stooping around my lieutenant; hastening up, I was horrified by seeing one wretch trying to force off with his knife the plain gold ring. I have rarely been more indignant, and drove the harpy off from his prey. Shortly afterward a detail was sent out to bring in the body of Colonel Strange, and all other soldiers were ordered back inside the fence. More than thirty of the rebel dead were lying within fifty feet of the fence; I did not visit the cornfield, but learned that here also the dead were very numerous. On our side the loss was much less, but here, also, our men were busily engaged in collecting the fallen, and ranging them side by side, each regiment or brigade by itself, that their own immediate comrades might lay them to rest with the scant ceremonial of a soldier's burial on the battle-field. No'little firing-squad poured forth a farewell volley; no minister...