. Field, fort and fleet ... s on that day. To-night there is the low-ing of kine, the far-away voices of men, the soft rustle of the windover fields of corn and wheat and clover. On that night more thanfifteen thousand corpses lay on those fields before me, with whitefaces and bloody hands uplifted in pitiful appeal to the youngharvest moon. Meadow and corn field and thicket shivered underthe stains of blood, and the swift-moving waters of the creekceased their flow as they found the channel filled with damsmade of human corpses. All this here, and yet it was notenough. In the dark woods beyon
. Field, fort and fleet ... s on that day. To-night there is the low-ing of kine, the far-away voices of men, the soft rustle of the windover fields of corn and wheat and clover. On that night more thanfifteen thousand corpses lay on those fields before me, with whitefaces and bloody hands uplifted in pitiful appeal to the youngharvest moon. Meadow and corn field and thicket shivered underthe stains of blood, and the swift-moving waters of the creekceased their flow as they found the channel filled with damsmade of human corpses. All this here, and yet it was notenough. In the dark woods beyond the shot-riven church, inwhich each Sabbath day was raised a prayer to God for peace,were limb and trunk and corpse until wounded horses turnedback and sought another way. It is dark as I ride slowly over the hill wet with blood thatday, and now and then I look back and almost believe that I amfollowed by a troop of spectres, who wave their skeleton arms inthe faint moonlight, as if driving me from that direful field. ess. urkr in <SKar+
Size: 2047px × 1221px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorquadm184, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1885
