That group, with wild beards and long unkempt hair, clad in rough
garments of every shade, from "butternut" to hodden gray, come evidently
from the far uplands of Virginia. Looking at those rough-hewn faces and
fierce eyes, you can easily believe that such men are not careful to
dissemble their sympathies, and would not lightly forget an injury; the
chastisement of this paternal Government will change sullen disaffection
into savage animosity; they will all be sent South in time, and "it's a
free fight there." I fancy one or two of those yeomen will see the color
of Yankee blood, before they see the old homestead again.
That pale Judas face, with scanty, hircine beard, and an expression
changing often from spiteful to cunning, could belong only to a Yankee
paymaster or commissary, detected in his frauds before he had made up a
pile high enough to defy justice; for swindler is not _quite_ safe till
he is nearly a "milliner." (So, was my comrade wont to pronounce
millionaire.) Such cases occur daily, and the unity of shabbiness here
is always diversified by some trim criminals in dark blue. Putting
apparel aside, these accessions do not seem greatly to improve the
respectability of the life below-stairs.
There is a very tall man, who generally manages to take his exercise at
a different hour from the common herd: when he does mix with them, his
well-cut clothes and spotless linen make a strange contrast with the
squalor round him.
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