FRESH TROOPS FROM WARRENTON FOR THE INTRENCHMENTS--"WE'LL PROTECT
YOU"--FEARS.
At dark the fresh troops from Warrenton marched by, going out to the
intrenchments in the rear of the city about two miles; many of the
officers were fearful that the fortifications, being so incomplete, would
be taken, if the Federal troops pushed immediately on, following their
advantage.
As the troops from Warrenton passed by, the ladies waved their
handkerchiefs, cheering them, and crying:
"These are the troops that have not run. You'll stand by us, and protect
us, won't you? You won't _retreat_ and bring the Federals behind you."
And the men, who were fresh and lively, swung their hats, and promised to
die for the ladies--never to run--never to retreat; while the poor fellows
on the pavement, sitting on their blankets--lying on the ground--leaning
against trees, or anything to rest their wearied bodies, looked on silent
and dejected. They were not to blame, these poor, weary fellows. If they
were unsuccessful, it is what many a man has been before them; and then,
endurance of the long fasts in the rifle pits, and coolness amid the
showers of ball and shell thrown at devoted Vicksburg afterward, show us
that men, though unfortunate, can retrieve their character.
"There has been many a life lost to-day," said a soldier to me--"many an
officer and man."
"Ah! truly, yes," I said; for the ambulances had been passing with wounded
and dead; and one came slowly by with officers riding near it, bearing the
dead body of General Tilghman, the blood dripping slowly from it. We were
told, also, of a friend who had been mortally wounded.
What a sad evening we spent--continually hearing of friends and
acquaintances left dead on the field, or mortally wounded, and being
brought in ambulances to the hospital! We almost feared to retire that
night; no one seemed to know whether the Federal army was advancing or
not; some told us that they were many miles away, and others that they
were quite near. How did we know but in the night we might be awakened by
the tumult of their arrival!
The streets were becoming quiet; the noise and bustle had died out with
the excitement of the day, and, save now and then the rapid passing of
some officer, or army wagon, they were almost deserted. And what will the
morrow bring forth? I thought, as I leaned from the balcony of my room;
will these streets echo to the tread of the victorious army? I shrank from
the thought. Without protectors, what might be our fate?--to be turned
from our homes, perhaps, widows and orphans. But the heavens above so
calm--so smooth and soothing--the quiet glide of the silent river--and the
wind swaying the trees with a monotonous wave--quelled and laid these
thoughts of evil; and the blessed trust and faith in Him who is all
powerful came with renewed balm to my anxious heart.