He gave furloughs to one-third of his army at a time, until
the whole had been furloughed. A new era had dawned; a new epoch had
been dated. He passed through the ranks of the common soldiers, shaking
hands with every one he met. He restored the soldier's pride; he
brought the manhood back to the private's bosom; he changed the order
of roll-call, standing guard, drill, and such nonsense as that. The
revolution was complete. He was loved, respected, admired; yea, almost
worshipped by his troops. I do not believe there was a soldier in his
army but would gladly have died for him. With him everything was his
soldiers, and the newspapers, criticising him at the time, said, "He
would feed his soldiers if the country starved."
We soon got proud; the blood of the old Cavaliers tingled in our veins.
We did not feel that we were serfs and vagabonds. We felt that we had a
home and a country worth fighting for, and, if need be, worth dying for.
One regiment could whip an army, and did do it, in every instance,
before the command was taken from him at Atlanta. But of this another
time.
Chaplains were brought back to their regiments. Dr. C. T. Quintard and
Rev. C. D. Elliott, and other chaplains, held divine services every
Sabbath, prayer was offered every evening at retreat, and the morale of
the army was better in every respect.
Pages:
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176