Archives for the ‘Photography.Local’ Category

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:34:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
...Bounced Through Our Ranks Like Rubber Balls.
Slaughter Pen Farm, Fredericksburg--
"cannon balls were flying over and among us all the time, killing men and horses and tearing up the ground all around us." The adjutant of the Second Reserves, Evan M. Woodward, recalled that many of the missiles, "plowed up the earth in deep furrows, or went howling and bursting over our heads, filling the air with iron hail and sulphur." Some of the shots landed among the Pennsylvania Reserves and kicked up spigots of mud "higher than the tallest tree," while others bounced through the ranks like grotesque rubber balls."

No rumour of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
No troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind.
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn, nor screaming fife,
At dawn shall call to arms.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:34:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
...Bounced Through Our Ranks Like Rubber Balls.
Slaughter Pen Farm, Fredericksburg--
"cannon balls were flying over and among us all the time, killing men and horses and tearing up the ground all around us." The adjutant of the Second Reserves, Evan M. Woodward, recalled that many of the missiles, "plowed up the earth in deep furrows, or went howling and bursting over our heads, filling the air with iron hail and sulphur." Some of the shots landed among the Pennsylvania Reserves and kicked up spigots of mud "higher than the tallest tree," while others bounced through the ranks like grotesque rubber balls."

No rumour of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
No troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind.
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn, nor screaming fife,
At dawn shall call to arms.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:30:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
...Knew it is Surley as Though I Culd Read His Thoughts.
Tapp Farm, Wilderness Battlefield, Spotsylvania--
"I saw many wounded soldiers in the Wilderness who hung on to their rifles, and whose intention was clearly stamped on their pallid faces. I saw one man, both of whose legs were broken, lying on the ground with his cocked rifle by his side and his ramrod in his hand, and his eyes set on the front. I knew he meant to kill himself in case of fire—knew it is surely as though I could read his thoughts."

Their shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed;
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow;
And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
Are free from anguish now.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:30:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
...Knew it is Surley as Though I Culd Read His Thoughts.
Tapp Farm, Wilderness Battlefield, Spotsylvania--
"I saw many wounded soldiers in the Wilderness who hung on to their rifles, and whose intention was clearly stamped on their pallid faces. I saw one man, both of whose legs were broken, lying on the ground with his cocked rifle by his side and his ramrod in his hand, and his eyes set on the front. I knew he meant to kill himself in case of fire—knew it is surely as though I could read his thoughts."

Their shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed;
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow;
And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
Are free from anguish now.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:27:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
I Continued in the Tallest Running Match of My Life.
Motts Run, Chancellorsville, Spotsylvania--
"At about the same time I felt that some part of my accouterment on the left side had given way; instinctively grasping for whatever it might be, I caught the straps of a leather pouch and of a haversack in my left hand, they had both been severed by a bullet, without halting, I continued in the tallest running match of my life, seemingly swinging my booty, i.e. my own provisions, in triumph, while the sword, in my right in its gyrations seemed thirsting for blood and the metal scabbard on my left was indented and bent by another bullet."

The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shouts are past;
Nor war's wild note, nor glory's peal,
Shall thrill with fierce delight;
Those breasts that never more may feel
The rapture of the fight.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:27:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
I Continued in the Tallest Running Match of My Life.
Motts Run, Chancellorsville, Spotsylvania--
"At about the same time I felt that some part of my accouterment on the left side had given way; instinctively grasping for whatever it might be, I caught the straps of a leather pouch and of a haversack in my left hand, they had both been severed by a bullet, without halting, I continued in the tallest running match of my life, seemingly swinging my booty, i.e. my own provisions, in triumph, while the sword, in my right in its gyrations seemed thirsting for blood and the metal scabbard on my left was indented and bent by another bullet."

The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shouts are past;
Nor war's wild note, nor glory's peal,
Shall thrill with fierce delight;
Those breasts that never more may feel
The rapture of the fight.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:23:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
....When Others Would Take Their Places.
Bloody Angle, Spotsylvania--
"Nothing but the piled up logs of breastworks separated the combatants. Our men would reach over the logs and fire into the faces of the enemy, would stab over with their bayonets; many were shot and stabbed through crevices and holes between logs; men mounted the works and with muskets rapidly handed them kept up a continuous fire until they were shot down, when others would take their places."

Like the fierce Northern hurricane
That sweeps the great plateau,
Flushed with triumph, yet to gain,
Come down the serried foe;
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew the watchword of the day
Was "Victory or death!"

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:23:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
....When Others Would Take Their Places.
Bloody Angle, Spotsylvania--
"Nothing but the piled up logs of breastworks separated the combatants. Our men would reach over the logs and fire into the faces of the enemy, would stab over with their bayonets; many were shot and stabbed through crevices and holes between logs; men mounted the works and with muskets rapidly handed them kept up a continuous fire until they were shot down, when others would take their places."

Like the fierce Northern hurricane
That sweeps the great plateau,
Flushed with triumph, yet to gain,
Come down the serried foe;
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew the watchword of the day
Was "Victory or death!"

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:19:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
Late in the Afternoon of This Day.....
Railroad cut, Wilderness Battlefield, Spotsylvania--
"Late in the afternoon of this day I went among the wounded of the Third Regiment South Carolina Volunteers and of the Yankees who had fallen into our hands. As usual on such occasions groans and cries met me from every side. I found Col. James Nance, my old school mate, and Col. Gaillard of Fairfield lying side by side in death. Near them lay Warren Peterson, with a shattered thighbone, and still others who were my friends."

Long had the doubtful conflict raged
O'er all that stricken plain,
For never fiercer fight had waged
The vengeful blood of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the glory tide;
Not long, our stout old Chieftain knew,
Such odds his strength could bide.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 2010-11-07 16:19:00

Author: From http://roadsdivergedwood.blogspot.com/ • Nov 7th, 2010
   Category: Blog Entries.Local, Photography.Local
Late in the Afternoon of This Day.....
Railroad cut, Wilderness Battlefield, Spotsylvania--
"Late in the afternoon of this day I went among the wounded of the Third Regiment South Carolina Volunteers and of the Yankees who had fallen into our hands. As usual on such occasions groans and cries met me from every side. I found Col. James Nance, my old school mate, and Col. Gaillard of Fairfield lying side by side in death. Near them lay Warren Peterson, with a shattered thighbone, and still others who were my friends."

Long had the doubtful conflict raged
O'er all that stricken plain,
For never fiercer fight had waged
The vengeful blood of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the glory tide;
Not long, our stout old Chieftain knew,
Such odds his strength could bide.

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