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Colonel Theodore Lyman, With Grant and Meade from the Wilderness to Appomattox (ed. George R. Agassiz), chapter 9 (search)
nd had a mild look of amusement, as he read out: Captain Brady's grey mare. --Captain Brady bows. Captain--, Hey? What is that name? I can't read the writing. Murphy, suggests General Miles. Oh, dear me, of course, yes; Captain Murphy's bay gelding. No! red, suggests Miles. Ah, yes, to be sure — red. Here, says the long-expCaptain Murphy's bay gelding. No! red, suggests Miles. Ah, yes, to be sure — red. Here, says the long-expectant Murphy. Then a bugler blows at a great rate and the horses are brought to the line; the bugler blows at a great rate some more, and away they go. There were a good many different races, some of which were rather tiresome, by reason of the long waiting and the fact that none of the horses were really racers, but only swift Murphy. Then a bugler blows at a great rate and the horses are brought to the line; the bugler blows at a great rate some more, and away they go. There were a good many different races, some of which were rather tiresome, by reason of the long waiting and the fact that none of the horses were really racers, but only swift officers' steeds, which were not enough trained to go round regularly, but often would balk at the hurdles and refuse to go round at all. Wherefrom we had tragic consequences: for one, scared by the crowd and by the brush hurdle, bolted violently and knocked down a soldier; and Colonel von Schack, in another race, had his horse, w