EVENT crowded upon event as the first two long years of the war glided1 by-years that seemed to calendar twenty-four, instead of twelve months each. The strife2 hadn't yet reached its climax3, but blood was flowing fearfully. From Maine to the Gulf4 was one vast beleaguered5 sea-coast, for at every sea-port city, grim monsters of war stood guarding the entrance to the harbor. Already the central, though despised Queen City, was feeling the fire of a fierce and cruel bombardment. Refugees were flitting hither and thither6 about the country, seeking peace and security, but finding none. Want and privation were even now beginning to menace a once luxurious7 people, and gloom and despair to enshroud the hopes of those who had fondly dreamed of a successful dismemberment of the Union. Such was the record of the years preceding the memorable8 seven days' fighting at "Merry Oaks."
These battles form the half-way stone in the long period of our civil war. It was the day after the dreadful conflict. The forces had retired10 to re-gather their strength, and the wounded, dying, and dead, were left upon the field. Early in the morning, as the heat of the summer sun was streaming down, a horseman rode slowly and carefully about this field of death. Here and there, lying thickly, as they fell, were the dead of both forces, easily distinguished11 by the different colors they wore, while gathered in groups, under the grateful shade-trees, could be seen the wounded whose strength was sufficient to drag them thither. This field was a shocking spectacle. And as the horseman rode slowly along the desolate12 track, peering curiously13 and sadly into the upturned faces of the dead, a casual observer might have detected the melancholy14 expression on his face, and marked the glittering tear that bedewed his eyes. For brave, true, noble George Marshall, was never ashamed to weep over the woes15 of humanity! Imperative16 business had called him from his post of duty to the seat of war, just in time to be within ear-shot of that memorable seven days' carnage. And as he rode, on that quiet summer morning, strange, painful emotions filled his heart. Around and about him, before and behind, lay grim and ghastly faces cold in death-faces of soldiers who were brothers in country, and many of them brothers in name-brothers in actual consanguinity17, brothers in destiny, brothers in everything, save love. There they were, peaceful now, side by side, the last conflict ended, the last spark of animosity extinguished; there, side by side-dead. No wonder George Marshall wept. The wonder is that there ever throbbed18 a human heart that could refrain from weeping over such a scene.
At length, George Marshall suddenly drew his rein19, and lifting his hand to his forehead so as to shade his eyes, gazed curiously forward for a moment toward an object lying not very far distant. Then, quickly alighting, he stepped cautiously toward the object of his scrutiny20. It was the dead body of a soldier. The dark blue uniform told to which army he belonged. The stocking, turned back from a slender ankle, fell carelessly over the heavy army shoe. The head was half-averted, and the open eyes, though sightless, were still bright with God's own azure21.
"Creeping gently through his slender hand, as though it loved the cold caress22 of death, was a wild vine whose tiny blossoms would have shrunk at the touch of a wild bee's foot." By the side of his face was the worn cap that had fallen from his head as he fell.
Fearfully, timidly, with an air of dread9, Colonel Marshall approached the silent figure and bent23 over the recumbent form.
"Great God! it is Franco! I thought I knew the poor fellow from afar! Poor, poor boy! Poor fair-haired Franco!" he exclaimed in a breath. Then gently turning the soiled cap, he read "Third Regiment24 United States Regulars." "My old command, my old command," he murmured. "Alas25! poor Franco! I thank God we did not meet in deadly conflict. Your true, kind heart wished no one ill, yet an unkind fate has brought you to a mournful end, and I, for one, shall mourn your hapless lot. Alas! poor boy, you'll never see your vine-clad France again, and your kind mother's peasant home will ever be darkened by your absence."
Then kneeling for a little time beside the dead boy, the kind-hearted colonel dropped a tear and bowed his head in deep reflection. Then, arising and looking eagerly about him, he said at length, "There, in the end of that entrenchment26, by the side of that shattered tree, I can lay his body, in lieu of a better grave. There it will at least be safe from the vultures and the horrible fate that awaits the unburied dead of a defeated army."
Then tenderly and sadly he laid the young soldier away in his peaceful grave, covering his face with his smoke-stained cap, and folding his pulseless hands upon his bosom27. At last, covering the mound28 upon which his tears had fallen, with some evergreen29 boughs30, he patiently carved upon a rude board, that he set up to mark the grave, the words:


1
glided
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v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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strife
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n.争吵,冲突,倾轧,竞争 | |
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climax
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n.顶点;高潮;v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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gulf
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n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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beleaguered
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adj.受到围困[围攻]的;包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词);困扰;骚扰 | |
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thither
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adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
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luxurious
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adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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memorable
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adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
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dread
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vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
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retired
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adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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distinguished
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adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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desolate
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adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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curiously
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adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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melancholy
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n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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woes
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困境( woe的名词复数 ); 悲伤; 我好苦哇; 某人就要倒霉 | |
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imperative
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n.命令,需要;规则;祈使语气;adj.强制的;紧急的 | |
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consanguinity
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n.血缘;亲族 | |
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throbbed
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抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
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rein
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n.疆绳,统治,支配;vt.以僵绳控制,统治 | |
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scrutiny
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n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
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azure
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adj.天蓝色的,蔚蓝色的 | |
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caress
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vt./n.爱抚,抚摸 | |
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bent
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n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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regiment
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n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
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alas
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int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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entrenchment
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n.壕沟,防御设施 | |
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bosom
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n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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mound
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n.土墩,堤,小山;v.筑堤,用土堆防卫 | |
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evergreen
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n.常青树;adj.四季常青的 | |
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boughs
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大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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aged
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adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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