The Northern Volunteers.
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��seasons render comparisons of forced marches very uncertain. Jackson's corps marched about sixty miles in forty hours in turning Pope's flank, but many broken down soldiers lined the road. The second army corps, under Hancock, made thirty-two miles in twenty-two hours on the way to Get- tysburg on a Southern summer day. Here, too, many men gave out and lay down by the roadside.
The pedestrian, striding over our smooth roads, with little or no load, may think these marches slow, but our infantry soldier carries nearly forty pounds of arms, ammunition, rations, blankets, etc. ; he fords streams in his shoes and socks, and then tramps on in wet foot gear, and perhaps with blistered feet as a re- sult, and instead of doing his work in a steady stride, he is vexed and wea- ried by many little halts, followed by rushes to close up the column.
The patient and unflagging industry of the volunteers in building earth- works was wonderful. The construc- tion and use of these earthworks con- tributed a new chapter to the science of war. Our regular troops carried the art out to the plains, and even the Indian has borrowed it there. Our soldiers have grown used to see- ing these wild horsemen crouching behind rifle pits of the most approved kind.
In our war, the labor in the trenches sometimes made the men pretty rusty. A soldier at Hilton Head, in 1862, had somewhat neglected the care of his arms by reason of toiling in the earthworks. His colonel reproved him for his dirty rifle at inspection one day. He excused himself in this wise : " Yes, I know my gun is dirty,
��colonel, but I've got the brightest shovel you ever saw ! "
TEMPERAMENT.
M. Roussillon, a French officer, writes of the temperament of the op- posing armies in our war as follows : "They adopted in the two armies sombre uniforms — blue in the North, gray or brown in the South, — which gave the troops a sad aspect, in sym- pathy with the cast of mind of the men of the North. In their camps there never were, as in ours, high spirits, gaiety, and songs. The bands were bad, and played rueful airs."
This shadowy atmosphere existed only in the imagination of one who was unduly impressed with the Amer- ican gravity, which does not extend below the surface. There was noth- ino; theatrical in the mould or manner of the American volunteer. He did not need to keep up the light and reckless air of a Charles O'Malley for the sake of professional reputa- tion. War was only a temporary business with him, and nothing but his manhood was on trial. But no soldier ever threw off care more readily when the time came. A thou- sand memories of song and story and jest mingle in the recollection of cam- paign and camp. The march was often the time of banter and repartee, and the swinging measure of the army song. The men, too, were quick to apply soubriquets. A three months regiment I knew was called the " Ragged Zouaves," from the condi- tion of its shoddy clothing. A rosy youth in the ranks got the name of " Blossom," and a man of giant stat- ure was entitled " Baby."
[To be concluded.]
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