His adversaries knew
him, and dreaded the certain death that awaited them. His troops were
brave; they laughed in the face of battle. He had no rear guard to
shoot down any one who ran. They couldn't run; the army was solid. The
veriest coward that was ever born became a brave man and a hero under his
manipulation. His troops had the utmost confidence in him, and feared no
evil. They became an army of veterans, whose lines could not be broken
by the armies of the world. Battle became a pastime and a pleasure,
and the rattle of musketry and roar of cannon were but the music of
victory and success.
COMMISSARIES
Before General Joseph E. Johnston took command of the Army of Tennessee,
the soldiers were very poorly fed, it is true, but the blame was not
entirely attributable to General Bragg. He issued enough and more than
enough to have bountifully fed his army, but there was a lot of men in
the army, generally denominated commissaries, and their "gizzards,"
as well as fingers, had to be greased. There was commissary-general,
then corps commissary, then division commissary, then brigade commissary,
then regimental commissary, then company commissary. Now, you know were
you to start a nice hindquarter of beef, which had to pass through all
these hands, and every commissary take a choice steak and roast off it,
there would be but little ever reach the company, and the poor man among
the Johnnies had to feast like bears in winter--they had to suck their
paws--but the rich Johnnies who had money could go to almost any of
the gentlemen denominated commissaries (they ought to have been called
cormorants) and buy of them much nice fat beef and meal and flour and
sugar and coffee and nice canvassed hams, etc.
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