Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[297] pilferers borrowed him the day of the surrender. If the mules had a hard time to make a living, it was worse for the men. The animals got little, but it was natural food; the men got little, and it was of a kind disgusting to the sharp-set hunger, that insufficiency both in quality and quantity made chronic. With the fertile valley of the Mississippi and Yazoo to draw from, millions of bushels of corn could have been stored in Vicksburg— abundant rations for the army and its animal equipment, and of a wholesome kind. Two days after we were closed in, Federal prisoners and our surplus mules were driven out because corn was scarce, and as time wore on, the bread of the period, issued to the men, was a cold glutinous paste, a compound of pea meal and flour. Was—finish the query with reference to General Pemberton or his Commissary General, to suit your own fancy. A personal loss was felt by every Missourian the day that General Green was killed. He had been cautioned not to expose himself several times, and, a few minutes before he was hit, had remarked that the bullet was not moulded that would kill him. His death put another name upon the tablet of eternity that was already emblazoned with the names of thousands who had died for love of country.

When the Yankees blew up the mine in which so many Missouri troops lost their lives, the severed lines of others of their comrades kept back the surging numbers that mounted the parapet of the works. Like the knights of St. John, led by the grand master at Rhodes, they were in every gap and point of danger, making successful resistance the master of danger.