War was no longer an affair of the border and outpost. Federal
cavalry scoured the woods, tearing the last mouthful from the poor
people. Federal cannon were thundering in front of the ramparts of the
cities. In the country, the faint-hearted gathered at the court-houses
and cross-roads to comment on the times, and groan. In the cities,
cowards croaked in the market-places. In the country, men were hiding
their meat in garrets and cellars--concealing their corn in pens, lost
in the depths of the woods. In the towns, the forestallers hoarded
flour, and sugar, and salt in their warehouses, to await famine prices.
The vultures of troubled times flapped their wings and croaked
joyfully. Extortioners rolled in their chariots. Hucksters laughed as
they counted their gains. Blockade-runners drank their champagne,
jingled their coin, and dodged the conscript officers.
The rich were very rich and insolent. The poor were want-stricken and
despairing. Fathers gazed at their children's pale faces, and knew not
where to find food for them. Mothers hugged their frail infants to
bosoms drained by famine. Want gnawed at the vitals. Despair had come,
like a black and poisonous mist, to strangle the heart.
The soldiers were agonized by maddening letters from their families.
Their fainting loved ones called for help.
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