I see an emblem on his brass buttons, but can't tell what it is. It was common for buttons to bear the logo of the state from which the soldier's regiment came.
Other standard issue buttons merely had an A, I or C on each. A for artillery, I for Infantry, C for cavalry. Still other buttons merely had CSA imprinted thereon. Some buttons were made of pewter instead of brass.
Most of the soldiers in these pics look decidedly humorless and serious. This was mostly due to the fact that they had to sit or stand perfectly still for about a minute while the camera took their picture. Wet plate photography was not instantaneous. The photographer took a cap off the camera lens, and replaced it a minute or so later. Any movement would produce a blurry picture.
6 comments:
Little Giffen
Francis Orray Ticknor (1822 - 1874)
Out of the focal and foremost fire,
Out of the hospital walls as dire,
Smitten of grape-shot and grangrene,
(Eighteenth battle, and he sixteen!)
Spectre! Such as you seldom see,
Little Giffen, of Tennessee.
"Take him - and welcome!" the surgeons said;
"Little the doctor can help the dead!"
So we took him and brought him where
The balm was sweet in the summer air;
And we laid him down on a wholesome bed-
Utter Lazarus, heel to head!
And we watched the war with abated breath-
Skeleton boy against skeleton death.
Months of torture, how many such!
Weary weeks of the stick and crutch;
And still a glint of the steel-blue eye
Told of a spirit that wouldn't die.
And didn't. Nay, more! In death's despite
The crippled skeleton learned to write.
"Dear Mother," at first, of course; and then
"Dear Captain," inquiring about the men.
Captain's answer: "Of eighty-and-five,
Giffen and I are left alive."
Word of gloom from the war, one day;
"Johnston pressed at the front, they say."
Little Giffen was up and away;
A tear-his first-as he bade good-by,
Dimmed the glint of his steel-blue eye.
"I'll write, if spared!" There was news of the fight;
But none of Giffen. He did not write.
I sometimes fancy that, were I king
Of the princely knights of the Golden Ring,
With the song of the minstrel in mine ear,
And the tender legend that trembles here,
I'd give the best on his bended knee,
The whitest soul of my chivalry,
For Little Giffen, of Tennessee.
Of course, just as much pity for the poor damn Union men and boys.
Haven't been here in quite sometime Stogie, glad to see you picked up the cause of what I would only call the most disgraceful moment in current American history with the progressive lynch mob at the gates attempting to hang the truth and replace it with a revisionist progressive history. I could go on and on, but I'm sure you understand the meaning of what I comprehend!
I never thought of this particularly from the Southerners' point of view - though of course I think highly of Southerners and the South. I always thought in terms of ALL the states retaining sovereignty and the power of secession. But having come to see how the South and Southerners have been mistreated and maligned, yes, I see the injustice. A damned outrage.
Absolutely, Ron. Good to hear from you again.
Thanks Roger. Glad you feel that way.
What's fair is fair.
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