Shoulder-Straps: A Novel of New York and the Army, 1862Morford, Henry
History
Shoulder-Straps: A Novel of New York and the Army, 1862
Morford, Henry
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
Nearer came the soldiers, their long line of sloped bayonets glancing
off the sunbeams with a peculiarly threatening aspect, and their
equipments showing the perfection which has been accorded by the Old Bay
State to all her troops, in contradistinction to the men of some of the
other States, that have been allowed to go down to the conflict looking
more like a mob of scarecrows than a body of trained soldiers. The
Colonel, who rode first, lolled easily on his saddle, like one who had
not mounted a horse for the first time when he first put on his
sword-belts; the Captains of the various companies stepped out boldly
and clearly in front of their men, turning occasionally to see that the
line was properly kept; and the rank and file tramped on, their step
almost steady enough for the march of veteran troops, and the dull
thunder of the fall of each thousand of feet on the solid pavement,
making the most impressive sound in the world except that supplied by
the multitudinous clink of the iron hoofs of a cavalry squadron passing
over the same stony road.
It was an impressive spectacle, like all of the same kind that have
preceded and followed it--a glorious spectacle, when the faces of most
of the men were observed, and nothing of the despairing dullness of the
conscript's eye seen there, but the vigorous pride and determination of
men who were going forth at the call of their country to battle for that
country to the death. And yet a sad spectacle, as all the others have
been, when waste of life and mismanagement of power were taken into the
account, and when the thinned ranks that should return, of the full
ranks that went so proudly away, came to be remembered. Something of
this latter feeling, and the peculiarities of the time, made the waving
of handkerchiefs and the clapping of hands less frequent and cordial
than the fine-looking fellows and their excellent appointments really
deserved.
"The d--l take the politics and policy of Massachusetts!" broke out Tom
Leslie, when the array had half passed. "I do not like her, and never
did. But she _does_ send out troops as the old Trojan horse poured out
heroes; she _does_ know how to equip and take care of them, as _we_ do
not; and they _fight_--oh, Harding, don't they?"
"Not any better than most of our New York troops, I fancy!" replied
Harding, an incarnate New Yorker, to the last observation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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