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Lula (search for this): chapter 2.8
od rolicking songs in order to give all a chance. And so, with hearty chorus, Three times around went she, Virginia, Virginia, the land of the free, No surrender, Lula, Lula, Lula is gone, John Brown's body, with many variations, Dixie, The Bonnie blue flag, Farewell to the star Spangled Banner, Hail Columbia, with immense variatLula, Lula is gone, John Brown's body, with many variations, Dixie, The Bonnie blue flag, Farewell to the star Spangled Banner, Hail Columbia, with immense variations, and Maryland, my Maryland, till about the third year of the war, when we began to think Maryland had breathed and burned long enough and ought to come. What part of her did come was first class. How the woods did ring with song. There were patriotic songs, romantic and love songs, sarcastic, comic and war songs, pirates' gLula is gone, John Brown's body, with many variations, Dixie, The Bonnie blue flag, Farewell to the star Spangled Banner, Hail Columbia, with immense variations, and Maryland, my Maryland, till about the third year of the war, when we began to think Maryland had breathed and burned long enough and ought to come. What part of her did come was first class. How the woods did ring with song. There were patriotic songs, romantic and love songs, sarcastic, comic and war songs, pirates' glees, plantation melodies, lullabies, good old hymn tunes, anthems, Sunday-school songs, and everything but vulgar and obscene songs — these were scarcely ever heard, and were nowhere in the army well received or encouraged. The recruit — our latest acquisition — was so interesting. His nice, clean clothes, new hat, new shoes,<
Auger (search for this): chapter 2.8
aboriously through the Patriarchal age, on through the Mosaic dispensation to the Christian era, takes in Grecian and Roman history, by the way, then Spain and Germany and England and colonial times, and the early history of our grand Republic; the causes of and necessity for our war, and a complete history up to date. And then slowly unfolds the little matter. We always loved to hear this man, and prided ourselves on being the only mess in the army having such treasure all our own. The Auger having been detailed for guard-duty walks off, and his voice grows fainter and fainter in the distance, and we call forth our Poet. One eye is bandaged with a dirty cotton rag. He is bareheaded and his hair resembles a dismantled straw-stack. His elbows and knees are out, and his pants, from the knee down, have a brown-toasted tinge imparted by the genial heat of many a fire. His toes protrude themselves prominently from his shoes. You would say, What a dirty, ignorant fellow. But liste
Cleopatra (search for this): chapter 2.8
f kings. As for thee, dark-eyed Egyptian, Glorious Sorceress of the Nile, Light the path to Stygian horrors With the glories of thy smiles. Give to Caesar Crowns and Arches, Let his brow the Laurel twine-- I could scorn the Senate's triumph, Triumphing in love like thine. I am dying, Egypt, dying I Hard I the insulting foeman's cry, They are coming! quick! my falchion!! Let me front them ere I die. Ah! no more amid the battle, Shall my heart exulting swell-- Iris and Osiris guard thee-- Cleopatra! Rome! Farewell! Good Bully! Go ahead, Jack! Give us some more, old fellow! And he generally did, much to everybody's satisfaction. We all loved Jack, the Poet of our mess. He sleeps, his battles o'er, in Hollywood. The Singing man generally put in towards the last and sung us to bed. He was generally a diminutive man, with a sweet voice and a sweetheart at home. His songs had in them rosy lips, blue eyes, golden hair, pearly teeth, and all that sort of thing. Of course he w
T. M. Jack (search for this): chapter 2.8
ard I the insulting foeman's cry, They are coming! quick! my falchion!! Let me front them ere I die. Ah! no more amid the battle, Shall my heart exulting swell-- Iris and Osiris guard thee-- Cleopatra! Rome! Farewell! Good Bully! Go ahead, Jack! Give us some more, old fellow! And he generally did, much to everybody's satisfaction. We all loved Jack, the Poet of our mess. He sleeps, his battles o'er, in Hollywood. The Singing man generally put in towards the last and sung us to bedJack, the Poet of our mess. He sleeps, his battles o'er, in Hollywood. The Singing man generally put in towards the last and sung us to bed. He was generally a diminutive man, with a sweet voice and a sweetheart at home. His songs had in them rosy lips, blue eyes, golden hair, pearly teeth, and all that sort of thing. Of course he would sing some good rolicking songs in order to give all a chance. And so, with hearty chorus, Three times around went she, Virginia, Virginia, the land of the free, No surrender, Lula, Lula, Lula is gone, John Brown's body, with many variations, Dixie, The Bonnie blue flag, Farewell to the star Spang
Carlton McCarthy (search for this): chapter 2.8
Camp fires of the boys in Gray. By Private Carlton McCarthy, of the Richmond Howitzers. [Note.--The substance of this paper was delivered in response to a toast at the banquet and reunion of the Richmond Howitzers, November 9th, 1875, and there has been a very general desire for its publication. It is a vivid picture of camp life, which will be readily recognized by the old soldier,. and contains matter well worthy of a place in these papers.] The soldier may forget the long, weary march, with its dust, heat and thirst, and he may forget the horrors and blood of the battle-field, or he may recall them sadly, as one thinks of the loved dead; but the cheerful, happy scenes of the camp fire he will never forget! How willingly he closes his eyes to the present to dream of those happy, careless days and nights. Around the fire crystallize the memories of the soldier's life. It was his home — his place of rest, where he met with good companionship. Who kindled the fire? Nobody
P. W. Gray (search for this): chapter 2.8
Camp fires of the boys in Gray. By Private Carlton McCarthy, of the Richmond Howitzers. [Note.--The substance of this paper was delivered in response to a toast at the banquet and reunion of the Richmond Howitzers, November 9th, 1875, and there has been a very general desire for its publication. It is a vivid picture of camp life, which will be readily recognized by the old soldier,. and contains matter well worthy of a place in these papers.] The soldier may forget the long, weary maralrous protection and shelter in the lines of the Army of Northern Virginia; while children played in the camps, delighted to nestle in the arms of the roughly clad but tender-hearted soldiers. Such was the behavior of the troops on the campaign in Pennsylvania, that the the citizens of Gettysburg have in my presence expressed wonder and surprise at their perfect immunity from insult, violence, or even intrusion, when their city was occupied by and in complete possession of the Boys in Gray.
John Brown (search for this): chapter 2.8
o'er, in Hollywood. The Singing man generally put in towards the last and sung us to bed. He was generally a diminutive man, with a sweet voice and a sweetheart at home. His songs had in them rosy lips, blue eyes, golden hair, pearly teeth, and all that sort of thing. Of course he would sing some good rolicking songs in order to give all a chance. And so, with hearty chorus, Three times around went she, Virginia, Virginia, the land of the free, No surrender, Lula, Lula, Lula is gone, John Brown's body, with many variations, Dixie, The Bonnie blue flag, Farewell to the star Spangled Banner, Hail Columbia, with immense variations, and Maryland, my Maryland, till about the third year of the war, when we began to think Maryland had breathed and burned long enough and ought to come. What part of her did come was first class. How the woods did ring with song. There were patriotic songs, romantic and love songs, sarcastic, comic and war songs, pirates' glees, plantation melodies, lull
Caesar (search for this): chapter 2.8
e-tide fast, And the dark Plutonian shadows Gather on the evening blast. Let thine arms, Oh! Queen, support me, Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear; Listen to the great heart secrets-- Thou, and thou alone, must hear. Though my proud and veteran legions Bear their Eagles high no more, And my wrecked and shattered galleys Strew dark Actium's fatal shore-- Though no glittering guards surround me, Prompt to do their master's will, I must perish like a Roman; Die — the great triumvir still. Let not Caesar's servile minions Mock the lion thus laid low; 'Twas no foeman's hand that slew him, 'Twas his own that struck the blow. Here, then, pillow on thy bosom Ere his star fade quite away, Him, who drunk with thy caresses, Madly flung a world away. Should the base plebeian rabble Dare assail my fame at Rome, Where the noble spouse Octavia Weeps within her widowed home-- Seek her! say the Gods have told me, Altars, Augurs — circling wings, That her blood, with mine commingled, Yet shall mount the
Robert E. Lee (search for this): chapter 2.8
members of it as to when, how and why, and where the campaign will open, and what will be the result. He arranges for every possible and impossible contingency, and brings the war to a favorable and early termination. The greatest mistake General Lee ever made, was that he failed to consult this man. Who can tell what might have been if he had. Now, to the consternation of all hands, our old friend, the Bore, familiarly known as the old Auger, opens his mouth to tell us of a little incige to have lived in time of war. The emotions are never so stirred as then. Imagination takes her highest flights, poetry blazes, song stirs the soul, and every noble attribute is brought into full play. It does seem that the production of one Lee and one Jackson is worth much blood and treasure, and the building of a noble character all the toil and sacrifice of war. The camp fires of the Army of Northern Virginia were not places of revelry and debauchery. They often exhibited gentle scen
Osiris (search for this): chapter 2.8
all mount the throne of kings. As for thee, dark-eyed Egyptian, Glorious Sorceress of the Nile, Light the path to Stygian horrors With the glories of thy smiles. Give to Caesar Crowns and Arches, Let his brow the Laurel twine-- I could scorn the Senate's triumph, Triumphing in love like thine. I am dying, Egypt, dying I Hard I the insulting foeman's cry, They are coming! quick! my falchion!! Let me front them ere I die. Ah! no more amid the battle, Shall my heart exulting swell-- Iris and Osiris guard thee-- Cleopatra! Rome! Farewell! Good Bully! Go ahead, Jack! Give us some more, old fellow! And he generally did, much to everybody's satisfaction. We all loved Jack, the Poet of our mess. He sleeps, his battles o'er, in Hollywood. The Singing man generally put in towards the last and sung us to bed. He was generally a diminutive man, with a sweet voice and a sweetheart at home. His songs had in them rosy lips, blue eyes, golden hair, pearly teeth, and all that sort of t
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