Summary

Frank M. Mixson Reminiscences of a Private

This old fellow, like the balance of us, was no more whipped, penned up here in the Bull Pen, overpowered by at least ten to one, starved, naked, broken down, than he was at the Wilderness, [121] Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor or the nine months in the trenches and below Richmond. We were not whipped, and we never felt whipped; but felt like men who had done their duty in every emergency, and now, while we were forced to give up the struggle, it was only to overwhelming odds and resources. But we were yet men and men, too, who were entitled to and would get the admiration of the entire world.
Source: Gutenberg

Frank M. Mixson Reminiscences of a Private

In that depressing time, when the old civilization of the South had been prostrated by the cyclone of war, when every hope seemed forever gone from the sky of the darkened future, he was full of the steady, unflinching courage of the Confederate Veteran, looking with unwavering faith to the resurrection that loyalty to principle, trust in the right and confidence in the destiny of the Anglo-Saxon would assure in the peace of the patient coming years.
Source: Gutenberg

Frank M. Mixson Reminiscences of a Private

On reaching Sharpsburg we were stopped in an apple orchard (our regiment) and we fared well. We remained in this orchard that night, all next day and night. The second morning about sunrise the Yankees opened their artillery from the heights on us, and it seemed as if they had placed all the cannon in the world up there; it was certainly the heaviest and most terrific artillery firing during the entire war, and has gone down in history as such. Fortunately for us we were in a bottom and the worst of the shells went over us, but not all.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature