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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 13. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 34 (search)
nes: And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass; Weeping, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning braves. Scarcely two months before most of them had been transported southward, in box-cars or on flats in the cruelest weather, to reinforce Johnston, and keep back the advancing enemy—a puny dyke against a rushing, overwhelming flood. Now they plodded wearily back, the foe following, to lay down their well-used arms at Hillsboro. Faithful, devoted souls! Who shall tell the story of your high emprise—of your sufferings and your glory? Nothing was possible now but for us to show our sympathy and appreciation of their heroism. Day after day we stood at the gates pouring out quarts of cool buttermilk for the exhausted men, which with cheering words was all we had now to offer. Frequently officers spent the night, while their commands encamped just beyond. Once, a body of Federal prisoners passed (taken at
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 13. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Return of a refugee. (search)
one thought, the only one which sustained me at this time of trial, was to go home. Nothing would be so hard if I were but there. But time went on and there seemed no prospect of the fulfilment of this hope. Transportation was impossible. Railroads were destroyed; horses and mules of any worth had been seized by friends or foes; vehicles of all sorts were appropriated or in a state of utter dilapidation. More than all, we were forty miles away from everywhere! Raleigh, Greensboro, Hillsboro, all lay at that distance, more or less. So the slow, sad days dragged on, and hope deferred made the heart sick indeed. The spring fled away and a blazing summer came down, sapping one's very life-blood. In vain I tried to take an interest in the feeble gayeties of the young people of those primitive parts. The soldiers were all at home. One saw at church or at picnics (which was the rural standard of happiness) all sorts of worn gray clothes, alternating with resuscitated black or