Citizens never tire of viewing the beautiful
uniform and the martial step of the Continental Guards. And who can
look upon Captain Pierce, bearing his trusty sword, keeping step
equally well, whether he wears a finely-formed cork leg or stumps
along on his favorite wooden one,--his bearing as proud as the
proudest, his heroic soul looking gloriously forth from its undimmed
windows,--and fail to remember proudly the young lieutenant who fell
under the enemy's gun at Chickamauga? Or who can listen unmoved to the
music of the cannon which so often woke the morning echoes upon the
bloodiest battle-field of the war? A parade of the Washington
Artillery is, indeed, a glorious and inspiriting sight. Here they
come, gayly caparisoned, perfect in every detail of military
equipment, led by elegant officers who may well ride proudly, for each
is a true soldier and a hero. Scarcely less distinguished, save for
the plainer uniform, are the rank and file that follow. Can these be
the same men whom history delights to honor,--the heroes of a hundred
battlefields,--both in the army of Virginia and Tennessee, who,
stripped to the waist, blackened with powder and smoke, bloody with
streaming wounds, still stood to their guns, and, in answer to the
enemy, thundered forth their defiant motto, "_Come and take us!_" And
now--who more peaceful, who more public-spirited, who more kind in
word and deed? Of the Virginia detachment I knew little except their
splendid record.
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