Monday, November 06, 2006


The spring of 1862, in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia:
by Frank Crawford

"Many years ago, I had heard, or rather, read a little about Mosby's Partisan Rangers and I must confess that, not to far in the recent past, the heroic feats that this Gray Ghost of the Confederacy pulled off during the Civil War were, at best, of little interest to me. I had even read a little about McNeill's Rangers, but, likewise, McNeill's Rangers also seemed a little more than the Confederacy's answer to today's 'Hell's Angels' of the motorcycle gangs or perhaps the equivalent to today's 'good ol' boys' or 'red necks' out for some fun. It seemed that they really wanted nothing but fun and adventure and if, by chance, they could do some small amount of damage to their country's adversaries, all the better. I really could not understand how so many people could get so excited and even create for themselves heroes out of the likes of such.
After all, if they truly were supporters of 'The Cause' - the 'Confederate Ideals' - why didn't they join the Confederate Army or, at least, the cavalry and do their duty to God and their country like a man rather than on their 'Saturday Night Larks'?" . . . from and continued on Bits of Blue and Gray


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