Sketches of the War: A Series of Letters to the North Moore Street School of New YorkNott, Charles C.
History
Sketches of the War: A Series of Letters to the North Moore Street School of New York
Nott, Charles C.
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives; United States. Army. Iowa Cavalry Regiment, 5th (1861-1865)
Later I came upon fields and farms, and round these I had to make long
circuits. One chain of farms, I thought I never should get through.
Again and again I was forced to go back and try again. The temptation
to break through my resolution, and cross just this one, or that one,
was very strong; and I found that making one's escape, like any other
success, depends on his resolution and perseverance.
Toward noon, as I was approaching a road, I heard children's voices. I
looked, and saw, or thought I saw, a man on horseback. He sat still as
though on guard, and I supposed he was one of the enemy's picket. The
woods were thin, so I lay down and drew the bushes over me. I watched
him, but he did not move, and I soon decided I must stay there as long
as he did. Notwithstanding my anxiety, I fell into a doze, probably
not for a minute, yet when I opened my eyes, the man was gone, and a
tree stood in his place. It was an optical illusion. My eyes had been
over-worked for three nights, and for the last twenty hours, constantly
strained in examining objects far and near. The moment's rest had
dispelled the apparition. I remembered that as the sun was rising that
morning, I had long doubted whether a clump of bushes was not a group
of my own men--that trees and stumps had several times been changed to
sentinels and guards; and I remembered, also, the tents in the morning,
and the camp-fires during the night.
I now began to suffer from thirst, for I could only drink by dipping up
water with one hand. The sun, too, beat down through the half-leaved
trees, and became painful. I twisted some leaves into a sort of cap,
but it was often brushed off, and at best made but a poor shelter. I
had been disappointed also in not meeting a contraband. Some I had seen
in fields, but always with white men, and them I must shun; and as I
did so, I asked myself whether this was the United States, and these
Americans, that I should be time skulking like a hunted criminal.
Feeling now and then a little faint, I decided on going to a house
for something to eat, and again plunging into the woods. Yet here
great caution was necessary. I wanted a small house, because it would
probably contain but one man, and I must have it out of sight of
neighbors and near woods. I passed several, but none of them complied
with my conditions--one was too large, another too far back in an open
field, and a third was overlooked by a fourth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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