Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 August 1877 — Dirtiness of War. [ARTICLE]

Dirtiness of War.

A Danube correspondent says that one of his hopes that all war will soon end is that as people become more civilized the dirtiness of it will become unendurable: What characterizes an army in the field above everything else Is dirt. One is clothed in it, one eats it, drinks it, smells it. Officers who once were doubtless brilliant as butterflies in uniform, spot’ess as the lily of the field, become draggled, stained and rusty. Theircoate have holes, their boots are patched. As for the soldiers, they are simply filthy. You will meet them more ragged than the poorest Irish laborer, and those who were white of vesture have fallen to the lowest depth of darkness. As for some further details of the sort which I must not dwell on, a hint should suffice—everybody cuts his hair as short as scissors will do it before entering on a campaign. A moment arrives, after no long time, when soldier servants give up washing in despair, and accept all the dirt that comes to them. Then they cease to observe whether their master's things are clean or no. despise the humble duty of washing cups and plates and forks, ignore the use of soap, and all; that civilization has laboriously impressed upon the menial instinct. They return to the customs of primeval man, and we follow of necessity. Thus forks and spoons are ignored at an early stage, plates and dishes somewhat later. At this very moment a grimy wretch, upon whosefhand one might plant mustard seed with reasonable hope, is employed beside me in cutting up sugar. He has brought forth a snowy lump and a butcher’s knife, and upon the bare earth he is hacking off chips. These he collects and ranges in a greasy tin box, popping each alternate lump into the black cavern of his mouth. Aliflisdone with thaibul fingers, upon the native soil, between whiffs of tobacco; and no one protests; the greater number do not even observe such things now. We are all so conscious of dirt, so resigned and hopelees about if, that a little more or less is not worth disputing. I shall not linger upon this theme. Let your readers turn up the passage oi “ London Labor and London Poor," in which the dens of St. Giles are described.

and the way of life In that quarter. The manners and customs pictured there are not so filthy as those we necessarily adopt This army is but little worse than others. War itself is loul. There are more wounded die of dirt than of lead or iron< Tb» foreign arrivals of steamers at Boston this year, so far, are eighty-eight, against sixty-seven last year, and the imports are nearly <25,000,000, against <lB, 750,000 last year, an increase of one-third.