Sparks from the Camp Fire: Or, Tales of the Old Veterans. Thrilling Stories of Heroic Deeds ... as Re-told Today Around the Modern Camp FireJoseph W. Morton |
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2d Brigade advance Aggregate membership Antietam creek arms artillery attack badge battery battle boys brave Brevet bridge brigade Brigadier-General bullets Burnside camp Captain captured cavalry Cemetery Hill charge Chattanooga Colonel column commander-in-chief comrades confederate cross Culp's Hill dead death desperate division enemy enemy's eyes face fell field fight fire flag flank followed force Fort Delaware front gallant Grand Army ground guard guns hand heart hill Hooker horse hour hundred infantry killed Libby Prison Lieutenant Little Round Top looked Lookout Mountain MAJOR-GENERAL membership in 1889 Merrimac miles Missionary Ridge morning moved National Encampment never night Number of Posts o'clock officers Ohio organization passed patriotic pickets position Potomac prisoners railroad reached rear rebel regiment Relief Corps Republic river road scout shell Sheridan Sherman shot shouted side soldiers soon town troops Union Union army veterans victory woods wounded Zagonyi
Popular passages
Page 304 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Page 550 - Till the war drum throbs no longer and the battle flags are furled In the Parliament of man, the federation of the world.
Page 459 - When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.
Page 550 - And trims his helmet's plume ; When the goodwife's shuttle merrily Goes flashing through the loom ; With weeping and with laughter Still is the story told, How well Horatius kept the bridge In the brave days of old.
Page 452 - I fell in a revery, sad and sweet, And then to a fitful slumber. When, lo ! in a vision I seemed to stand In the lonely Capitol. On each hand Far stretched the portico ; dim and grand Its columns ranged, like a martial band Of sheeted spectres whom some command Had called to a last reviewing. And the streets of the city were white and bare ; No footfall echoed across the square ; But out of the misty midnight air I heard in the distance a trumpet blare, And the wandering night-winds seemed to bear...
Page 475 - The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sounds of preparation — the music of boisterous drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see thousands of assemblages, and hear the appeals of orators. We see the pale cheeks of women, and the flushed faces of men ; and in those assemblages we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers.
Page 476 - Four million bodies in chains — four million souls in fetters ! All the sacred relations of wife, mother, father, and child trampled beneath the brutal feet of might. And all this was done under our own beautiful banner of the free.
Page 453 - That showed no flicker, nor waning lamp, Nor wasted bivouac fires. And I saw a phantom army come, With never a sound of fife or drum, But keeping time to a throbbing hum Of wailing and lamentation: The martyred heroes of Malvern Hill, Of Gettysburg and Chancellorsville, The men whose wasted figures fill The patriot graves of the nation.
Page 459 - Should earth against my soul engage, And hellish darts be hurled, Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. 3. ' Let cares, like a wild deluge, come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all ; — 4.
Page 475 - ... the last time in quiet, woody places with the maidens they adore. We hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of eternal love as they lingeringly part forever. Others are bending over cradles kissing babes that are asleep.