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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore), Letter from three good little boys. (search)
Letter from three good little boys. the Richmond Whig of the twenty-ninth of January, published the following Letter from three good little boys, in which, under cover of a facetious style, the desperation of the rebel army was disclosed, and the government condemned for its inefficiency and retention of incompetent agents: out in the field, January 26, 1864. dear Pa: We take our Pen in Hand to write You a letter. We have Got something to say to You. It is Bad News, and we are sorry to say it. But it is the Fact. And we Hope You won't get Very Madd with us for telling it, for It is the Real Truth, and we don't mean to Hert your Feelings by telling it. Because, if we could help telling It, we wouldn't Tell It. Dear Pa, the truth is this. Us Boys that You sent into the Field to Fight the Yankees are getting Mighty Hungry, and the Reason of it All is that we don't get Enough to Eat. Now You Know that Boys that don't get a Plenty to Eat can't Fight. They can Fight some
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 167 (search)
84. battle-worn banners. （January 26, 1864.) by Park Benjamin. I saw the soldiers come to-day From battle fields afar; No conqueror rode before their way On his triumphal car; But captains, like themselves, on foot, And banners sadly torn, All grandly eloquent though mute, In pride and glory borne. Those banners soiled with dust and smoke, And rent by shot and shell, That through the serried phalanx broke, What terrors could they tell! What tales of sudden pain and death In every cannon's boom, When even the bravest held his breath And waited for his doom. By hands of steel those flags were waved Above the carnage dire, Almost destroyed yet always saved, 'Mid battle-clouds and fire. Though down at times, still up they rose And kissed the breeze again, Dread tokens to the rebel foes Of true and loyal men. And here the true and loyal still Those famous banners bear; The bugles wind, the fifes blow shrill, And clash the cymbals where, With decimated ranks, they come, And through the