William W. Day was an American author and soldier known for his vivid recounting of his experiences during the American Civil War. His notable work, 'Fifteen Months in Dixie; Or, My Personal Experience in Rebel Prisons,' offers a firsthand account of his time as a prisoner of war in the Confederate South. Through Day's narrative, readers gain insight into the harsh realities faced by Union soldiers captured by Confederate forces, as well as the broader context of the war itself. His detailed descriptions and personal reflections provide a unique perspective on the struggles and resilience of those who endured the conflict. Day's writings are significant not only for their historical value but also for their emotional depth, capturing the psychological toll of war and the human spirit's capacity to endure. His work contributes to the rich tapestry of Civil War literature, serving as both a memoir and a testament to the experiences of countless soldiers. Though not as widely known as some of his contemporaries, Day's contributions to war literature remain an important part of understanding the complexities of the Civil War era.
“I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,And live alone in the bee-loud glade.And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,And evening full of the linnet’s wings.I will arise and go now, for always night and dayI hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,I hear it in the deep heart’s core.””
“Why should I blame her that she filled my daysWith misery, or that she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,Or hurled the little streets upon the great, Had they but courage equal to desire?What could have made her peaceful with a mindThat nobleness made simple as a fire,With beauty like a tightened bow, a kindThat is not natural in an age like thisBeing high and solitary and most stern?Why, what could she have done, being what she is?Was there another Troy for her to burn?””
“You cannot qualify war in harsher terms than I will. War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war into our country deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more sacrifices to-day than any of you to secure peace.””
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