The Death of Romance
In “The Gettysburg Gospel”, Gabor Boritt offers a grim after-battle description which abruptly dispenses with any lingering romantic visions of war. Opting to avoid the more sterile strategic or tactical discussions, he instead bluntly notes the sights and smells which accosted the towns people as they merged with the wreckage of the colossal three-day battle.
“Gettysburg, July 4, 1863. Stench fills the air. Excrement from perhaps 180,000 men and more than 70,000 horses has been left behind in the area. There are thousands of flies, millions. Dead men barely covered in shallow graves. Seven thousand dead men? More likely close to 10,000. How many dead horses and mules? Three thousand, five? None buried. A nurse writes of carcasses “steaming in the sun.” The smell of putrid animal flesh mingles with the odor of human decay. It extends into the spirit of the people. War had come to them. Then it had gone and left the horror behind.”
Respectfully,
Randy