I Had A Stove In My Tent; But The
Heat Of That, When Lighted, Was More Terrible Than The Severity Of
The Frost.
The tents of the brigade with which I was staying had been pitched
not without an eye to appearances.
They were placed in streets as
it were, each street having its name, and between them screens had
been erected of fir poles and fir branches, so as to keep off the
wind. The outside boundaries of the nearest regiment were
ornamented with arches, crosses, and columns, constructed in the
same way; so that the quarters of the men were reached, as it were,
through gateways. The whole thing was pretty enough; and while the
ground was hard the camp was picturesque, and a visit to it was not
unpleasant. But unfortunately the ground was in its nature soft and
deep, composed of red clay; and as the frost went and the wet
weather came, mud became omnipotent and destroyed all prettiness.
And I found that the cold weather, let it be ever so cold, was not
severe upon the men. It was wet which they feared and had cause to
fear, both for themselves and for their horses. As to the horses,
but few of them were protected by any shelter or covering
whatsoever. Through both frost and wet they remained out, tied to
the wheel of a wagon or to some temporary rack at which they were
fed. In England we should imagine that any horse so treated must
perish; but here the animal seemed to stand it.
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