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The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 8: Soldier Life and Secret Service. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller), Military information and supply (search)
success, is an impossibility . . . Can you feel astonished that I should grow angry at the toleration of such suicidal weakness, that we strong, intelligent men must bend to a silly proclivity for early news that should advise our enemy days in advance? The newspaper correspondents pitched their tents in the wake of the army, but they themselves were more than likely to be found with the advance-guard. Not a few of the plucky newspaper men fell on the field of battle, while others, like Richardson of the Tribune, endured imprisonment. at Amelia Court House. The courier had to ride southward across a dozen miles of dubious country. It was nip and tuck whether Yank or Reb first laid hands on him, and when he finally reached the wearied leader, and, rousing to the occasion, Grant decided to ride at once through the darkness to Sheridan's side, and set forth with only a little escort and the scout as guide, two staff-officers, thoroughly suspicious, strapped the latter to his saddle,
The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 8: Soldier Life and Secret Service. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller), With the veteran armies (search)
while Lee and his legions were permitted to saunter easily back to the old lines along the Rapidan. They had served in succession five different masters. They had seen the stars of McDowell, McClellan, Pope, Burnside, and Hooker, one after another, effaced. They had seen such corps commanders as Sumner, Heintzelman, Keyes, Fitz John Porter, Sigel, Franklin, and Stoneman relieved and sent elsewhere. They had lost, killed in battle, such valiant generals as Philip Kearny, Stevens, Reno, Richardson, Mansfield, Whipple, Bayard, Berry, Weed, Zook, Vincent, and the great right arm of their latest and last Commander—John F. Reynolds, head of the First Corps, since he would not be head of the army. They had inflicted nothing like such loss upon the Army of Northern Virginia, for Stonewall Jackson had fallen, seriously wounded, before the rifles of his own men, bewildered in the thickets and darkness of Chancellorsville. They had been hard hit time and again—misled, misdirected, mishan