The "Tribune"
was equally cogent and inspiriting--and the "Times," "Evening Post,"
and other principal papers, were not a whit behind. They came in good
time, for they were needed. For in the humiliation of Bull Run, the
popular feeling north, from its extreme of superciliousness, recoil'd
to the depth of gloom and apprehension.
(Of all the days of the war, there are two especially I can never
forget. Those were the day following the news, in New York and
Brooklyn, of that first Bull Run defeat, and the day of Abraham
Lincoln's death. I was home in Brooklyn on both occasions. The day
of the murder we heard the news very early in the morning. Mother
prepared breakfast--and other meals afterward--as usual; but not a
mouthful was eaten all day by either of us. We each drank half a cup
of coffee; that was all. Little was said. We got every newspaper
morning and evening, and the frequent extras of that period, and
pass'd them silently to each other.)
DOWN AT THE FRONT
FALMOUTH, VA., _opposite Fredericksburgh, December 21, 1862_.--Begin my
visits among the camp hospitals in the army of the Potomac. Spend a good
part of the day in a large brick mansion on the banks of the Rappahannock,
used as a hospital since the battle--seems to have receiv'd only the
worst cases. Out doors, at the foot of a tree, within ten yards of the
front of the house, I notice a heap of amputated feet, legs, arms, hands,
&c., a full load for a one-horse cart. Several dead bodies lie near, each
cover'd with its brown woolen blanket.
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