"^m 
 
 UBRARY OF CONGRESS t 
 
 ODOnSbSOBa^.^ 
 
i 
 
I 
 
c6 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS 
 
 OP THE ^/^y^'^'^iO 
 
 Civil V\^ar; 
 
 BEING THE INCIDENT, ADVENTURE AND WAYSIDE EXPLOIT OP THE 
 
 BIVOUAC AND BATTLE FIELD, 
 
 AS RELATED BY 
 
 VETERAN SOLDIERS THEMSELVES. 
 
 EMBRACING THE TRAGEDY, ROMANCE, COMEDY, HUMOR 
 
 AND PATHOS IN THE VARIED EXPERIENCES 
 
 OF ARMY LIFE. 
 
 BY WASHI]N[GTO]Sr DAVIS. 
 
 ALSO A HISTORY OF THE 
 
 GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC 
 
 FROM ITS BEGINNING TO THE PRESENT DATE, INCLUDING THE 20tH 
 
 NATIONAL ENCAMPMENT AT SAN FRANCISCO, CAL., AUGUST, 
 
 1886, AND OTHER VALUABLE INFORMATION, 
 
 By a DOMRADE. 
 
 DETROIT: 
 W. IL BOOTIIROYD & CO. 
 
 1887. 
 
COFYRIGHTBI' 
 
 WAStirNGTON DAVIS, 
 
 COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 i^B. GEHMAN&CO., 
 
 ISeb. 
 
 
G^AND pI^MY OP THE I^EPUBLI^ 
 
 THE VETERANS AND THE VOLUNTEERS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CIVIL WAR. 
 
 UPON WHOSE LOYALTY AROSE THE STANDARD OF PERPE^ SA^ LNIO*f 
 AND TO THEIR WIVES, SISTERS AND MOTHER ., 
 
 THI^ VOLUJVIE 
 
 Is ^BSPBGIiPULiIiY DEDIGAJUBD, 
 
 IN THE HOPE THAT IT MAY REMAIN 
 
 A TSSTTAMENT TO THEIR HEROIC ENDURANCE, AND A TRIBUT' TO THXIR 
 
 HALLOWED MEMORY. 
 
Sbniping on THE Old @amp Gi^oukd.* 
 
 We're tenting to-night on the old camp ground, — _ 
 
 Give us a song to cheer 
 Our weary hearts, a song of home 
 
 And the friends we love so dear. 
 
 CHORUS : 
 
 Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, 
 
 Wishing for the war to cease ; 
 Many are the hearts looking for the right 
 
 To see the dawn of peace. 
 
 REFRAIN : 
 
 Tenting to-night, tenting to-night, 
 Tenting on the old camp ground. 
 
 We've been tenting to-night on the old camp ground 
 
 Thinking of days gone by ; 
 Of the loved ones at home who gave us the hand. 
 
 And the tear that said " Good-bye! " 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 We are tired of war on the old camp ground, — 
 
 Many are dead and gone, 
 Of the loved and true who've left their homes ; 
 
 Others been wounded long. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 We've been fighting to-day on the old camp ground,- 
 
 Many are lying near; 
 Some are dead, and some dying: 
 
 Many are in tears. 
 
 CHORUS AND REFRAIN: 
 
 Dying to-night, dying to-night. 
 Dying on the old camp ground. 
 
 * Copyright. Used by permission of O. Ditson & Ca 
 
 vi 
 
)tc 
 
 
 rjJT is hoped that no "crying need" or "long-felt want" has 
 III been satisfied by the publication of Camp-Fire Chats. 
 ^ Nor has the manuscript been prepared for the private perusal 
 of a few of the author's friends; but this volume has been pub- 
 lished for the same purpose as are other books in these latter 
 days (save the reports issued by good old honest Uncle Sam)^ 
 with the additional intent of preserving a few points of his- 
 tory, and some features of army life not before delineated. 
 To this end the subject matter has been selected, with suffi- 
 cient humorous incident, it is thought, to relieve the work of 
 dryness. 
 
 Only one claim is made : the stories are fresh and hereto^ 
 fore unpublished; and in gathering the material from the field 
 the publishers and the author have spared neither labor not 
 expense. It was realized that much wholesome romance, to. 
 gether with many details in the history of the Civil War, re- 
 mained treasured only in the memories of the veterans, or at 
 least had not found their way into print, and must necessarily 
 perish with the soldiers, unless the many interesting stories 
 told at the various camp-fires of the Grand Army of the Re- 
 public, were preserved. The preservation of these also 
 achieves a very praiseworthy result: It furnishes to youthful 
 minds a far better class of readinsf than the mass of exciting: 
 and pernicious literature thrust upon them from all sides. 
 
 Yi 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 Each speaker has been given due credit, and is therefore 
 responsible for the tale he has told. No character sketches 
 have been attempted, for, since the characters are all living, it 
 has been deemed unsafe for the author's physical well-being ; 
 and then such sketches, either pen portrait or caricature, have 
 been odious to the writer ever since his school-boy days, 
 when he was cartooned on the old school-yard fence by a 
 youthful genius with a stolen piece of chalk. 
 
 Thanks to the many who have furnished the anecdotes 
 herein contained, and for their kind assistance so freely tend- 
 ered the author while collecting the data; and especially to 
 Symmes M. Jelley, A. M. If the book is v/elcomed by the 
 public as heartily as the author has been received by the 
 members of the Grand Army, no anxiety will be felt by 
 
 W. D. 
 . January, 1884. ^ 
 
 The Grand Army of the Republic has grown rapidly 
 since 1884. Mighty in numbers ; leader in patriotism ; 
 crowned with the admiration and love of the Nation : its 
 success is both a pride and a joy to everyone. No other 
 nation has such a body of men. Their plans, their acts, 
 their words are eagerly read by Columbians happy millions. 
 The camp-fire chats of to-day have a precious value ; not 
 alone when modestly recounting incidents of that American 
 valor and voluntary sacrifice that the world pronounces un- 
 equaled, but also when teaching genuine patriotism — an 
 unselfish love of country. 
 
 The publishers add fifty pages, skillfully gathered by a 
 Comrade from the G. A. R. riches of the past three years. 
 January, 1887. 
 
CAMP-FIRE I. 
 
 The S. P. U. H— The First Camp-Fire— The Camp of Insti-uction— 
 The Farmer and the Watermelons—" How Tedious and Tasteless the 
 Hours " — The Closing Scene. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE II. 
 
 How a Balky Horse did not Surrender — ^The Execution of Deserters 
 —A Pension for a Pin-Scratch. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE III, 
 
 The Maddest Man in the Army — A Regimental Foot Race — Effects 
 
 of Excitement — " Bress de Lor'." 
 
 CAMP-FIRE IV. 
 
 Buttermilk Without Money, but not Without Price— Freaks under 
 Fire— "Johnnies " and "Yanks" stop Shooting to Shake hands— Sol 
 diers at the Fort Different from « Home Guards "—Origin of ♦' Hold 
 the Fort." 
 
 CAMP-FIRE V. 
 
 A Surprise for the Johnnies— With Banks up the Red River— Prison 
 Life in Texas— Soldiers yet on Parole — Trouble Between the 13th and 
 19th Army Corps. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE VI. 
 
 " Slap-jacks "—A Trip up the Tennessee— The Horrors of Valley 
 Forge Repeated— Bullets and Etiquette— "Copper- Heads." 
 
 ix 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE VII. 
 
 A Banquet to the S. P. U. H.— " S. B."— A Classical Exposition of 
 th« Term, and some Reminiscences for Illustration. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE VIII. 
 
 Libby Prison — The " Horned Yankee " — Andersonville, whose Sur- 
 name is Death — A Modern Miracle — The Altar of Kleptomania Receives 
 a Sacrifice of Seven. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE IX. 
 
 The Florence Prison — Homeward Bound — Pathetic Incidents. 
 CAMP-FIRE X. 
 
 War on the Water — Daring Deeds— How Many Regiments each Man 
 Captured — Remarkable Escapes — The Biggest Liar in the War. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XL 
 
 Sutlers — Quartermasters — Mules — How Rich a Soldier must be to 
 Buy Anything from a Sutler — The Profits in the Government Appoint- 
 ment of Quartermaster on a Regular Salary — Eulogy on the Sutler and 
 
 the Army Mule. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XIL 
 
 Bushwhacking — What Circumstances do with Cases — A Jest on Gen. 
 A.J. Smith — Foraging. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XIIL 
 
 Battles Unsung by the Muse of History — Origin of the Stars and 
 Stripes — Genealogy of George Washington. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XIV. 
 
 A Rollicking Recruit— Love and War— The S. P. U. H. Sutler— 
 *' When Gabriel Blows his Trumpet in de Morning." 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XV. 
 The Race for Columbia — "To Amputate or not to Amputate?" 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XVI. 
 " Brazen Effrontery " — Corduroy Roads— Long John, the Darkey. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XVII. 
 
 Lazy Jim's Stratagem lo Avoid Walking Back to Camp — " They got 
 Qur Flag "—Anecdote of General Sherman. 
 
CONTENTS. xi 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XVIIL 
 
 Many were Called, but One was Chosen— A Sad Occurrence — " Let 
 the Dead and the Beautiful Rest." 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XIX. 
 
 A Reminiscence of General Nelson — A Sham Battle Demolishes a 
 Sutler's Store. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XX. 
 
 "When this Cruel War is over" — A Continuation of Camp-Fire 
 X VIII. —A " Muley " Yoke of '* Muley " Oxen. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXI. 
 
 The Grand Army of the Republic not a Political Organization — Its 
 Principles: Fraternity, Charity, Loyalty — A Complete, Brief Record of 
 its Organization and Growth to the Present Time. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXII. 
 
 A Romance of the War— A Story Strange but True — What an Insane 
 Fisherman Caught. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXIII. 
 
 The Wrong Ox by the Horns — The Tables Turned on an Officer'^ 
 Strict Discipline — A Decision by Mansfield, General — Rivalry in 
 Religion. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXIV. 
 
 Wrong Kind of a Cat — " More About the Broken Window," or Craw- 
 ford Again. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXV. 
 
 A R«iw Recruit's Anxiety — Another Story about Another Mule — 
 On the St. Francis River — A General Incog. Refused a Cup of Coffee 
 — A Confederate's Idea of what the Gospel is. 
 
 CAMP-FTRE XXVI. 
 
 The Sequel to the Farmer and the Watermelons — The Un-wisdom of 
 a Raw Recruit — A Joke on the General — The Temperance Major — The 
 Captain who didn't Water his Whiskey. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXVII. 
 Home on a Furlough — A Premonition of Death — Hours of Peril. 
 
xii CONTENTS. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXVIII. 
 
 Dinnis M'Ginley as the ' Secretary of War "—Mart McCoy and the 
 Geieral— How the 15th Corps came by its Badge — The Romance that 
 a Spent Ball Brought About — How Wheeler's Cavalry got some Corn 
 Meal — Sensations upon Seeing a Comrade Killed by a Bullet. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXIX. 
 
 The Truth about the Capture of the Guerilla Chieftain, John Morgan 
 — Audacious Audacity — The Last Plank of the Ship of State. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXX. 
 
 A Mule Driver's Peculiarities— Foragers— Major Collins' Negro Boy, 
 Fraction — The Sad Story of an Unknown Michigan Soldier. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXI, 
 
 "Desecrated" Vegetables — What they were and how they Cooked 
 'Em— Shaming the " Biggest Liar." 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXIl. 
 
 Two of Mosby's Men Personate Union Officers — A Successful Mili- 
 tary Manoeuver — Character Maintained Notwithstanding the Demoral- 
 izing Influences of Army Life. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXIIL 
 
 Reminiscences of the Battle of Corinth— A Brave Boy in Gray— The 
 Old Canteen. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXIV. 
 
 The Last Camp-Fire— The End of the Season— The S. P. U. H 
 Valedictory — A Hymn of Peace. 
 
 CAMP FIRE XXXV. 
 
 Rally Again ! — The Veterans Must Meet Together — How the G. A. 
 R. Grows — A Third of a Million Comrades — Over Oue Hundred Thou- 
 sand in Associate Societies — The Battles and Important Events of the 
 War Arranged by Dates. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXVI. 
 
 Events Preliminary to the Firing of Sumter — The Different Calls for 
 Troops— Strength of the Army — Number of Soldiers From Each 
 State. 
 
CONTENTS. xiii 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXVII. . 
 
 Strength of tlie U. S. Army at Various Dates and at the Present Time 
 — The Grand Army of the Republic — The Eighteenth National En- 
 campment at Minneapolis, Minn. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXVIII. 
 
 The Nineteenth National Encampment at Portland, Me, — Mother 
 Bickerdyck — Mrs. Anna Wittenmyer — Fraternity, Charity and Loyalty 
 in the Order. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XXXIX. 
 
 The Battle of Gettysburg— The Trip to Calif ornia — The Wonderful 
 Scenery in Colorado — Reception of the G. A. R. at San Francisco — 
 Business of the Encampment. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XL. 
 
 Sacramento and Other Cities Honor the G. A. R. — The Ladies of the 
 Grand Army of the Republic — The Woman's Relief Corps — The Sons 
 of Veterans — The Daughters of Veterans — The Nation's Grateful Love 
 for the Grand Army. 
 
■^iLLUSiPI^AfPIONS.^^ 
 
 A Camp-fire Chat Frontispiece 
 
 Knapsack 24 
 
 Cartridge Box 31 
 
 The Old Mill 35 
 
 " Bress de Lor' " .' . . 41 
 
 Shell-gun 43 
 
 Skirmish Line 49 
 
 Camp Ford, Texas 65 
 
 Haversack , , 72 
 
 " Fall in for Grub " 85 
 
 Bombs . : , 91 
 
 Libbj Prison 97 
 
 Anderson V ille, , 107 
 
 Pontoon Bridge 137 
 
 Shot out of a Cannon 145 
 
 Redoubt , 149 
 
 Foraging 167 
 
 Shrapnel Shell 169 
 
 Charge of Cavalry 314 
 
 A Halt on the March 187 
 
 Corduroy Road.. 199 
 
 The Latest News 280 
 
 Brittle of Looko' t Monntain 269 
 
 The Morning Reveille , 223 
 
 A Islidnight March 329 
 
 T. A. R. Badge ^ 245 
 
 Gen. Lucius Fairchild 2 
 
 Gen. W. T. Sherman 346 
 
 Gen. John A. Logan 370 
 
 Battle of Gettysburg 381 
 
 The Royal Gorge 383 
 
 Gen. Walter S. Payne 403 
 
 adv 
 
i-^--. 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS, 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ,,g«gEVER was there war or military conflict more prolific 
 3n of incident than the Civil War of America. The 
 explosion of a shell was frequently followed by the 
 crack of a joke, and a bullet or a bayonet produced more fun 
 than fear; yet neither were ever so close that they left no time 
 for a prayer. The raging battle was never so intense that a 
 dying comrade could not be given a drink of water; and no 
 march was ever so long, nor fatigue so great, that a biscuit 
 could not be divided with a messmate. Such was the sym- 
 pathy which held the army with its common cord. 
 
 But this is easily understood; for behind the war of mus- 
 ketry was a war of mind. Each bullet and each bayonet was 
 guided bv a thought and an inspiration, whose constancy 
 placed upon each fort and parapet an emblem of fraternity 
 and liberty which put to shame the ancient banners of spolia- 
 tion and conquest. 
 
 Spartan bravery could not have coped with American 
 courage in such a struggle; nor the ominious crescent of the 
 Saracens have been more awe-inspiring, nor the cross of thc- 
 Crusaders more worshipful, than the flag which quieted the 
 trembling sovereignty of the western world. 
 
 The history of this war has been written, the causes and 
 results have been discussed, and the record made; but the nar- 
 ration of personal adventure and observation can never fail to 
 
 IS 
 
l6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 be of interest, aad the tales, by those who survive, of the true 
 bravery of America's noblest sons, with their daring deeds 
 and marvelous exploits, will ever remain in the hearts of the 
 people, like the traditions of old, and become the fireside his- 
 tory of a modern conflict between the brothers of a nation, in 
 which both believed themselves in the right. 
 
 And, Indeed, it is here that we must look for the real his- 
 tory and the exposition of the true character of a people in 
 time of war. The movements, campaigns and statistics of 
 armies may be chronicled, and in their cumbersome dryness 
 be placed away among the archives of the nation ; but the 
 veritable disposition of those who harbor the passion, the 
 coolness, the love, the hate, the sympathy, the cruelty, the 
 right, the wrong, — must ever be sought from individual 
 sources. 
 
 It is not possible to give every soldier's experience through 
 the entire war, but the incidents in this volume are taken from 
 actual experiences. If the aim has been accomplished, a variety 
 of information has been disclosed which will give to the gen- 
 eral reader a picture of war and army life such as has never 
 been presented to the people. 
 
 Many books give a drawn-out list of battles as the history 
 of our Civil War. The war was not in all a military con- 
 flict; it was a complete revolution, in which the many customs 
 and whole life of one people were changed, and as a result of 
 which new energy thrilled another people. The war was 
 not all battles nor all marches; but a stern struggle of com- 
 bined intellectual and physical forces. Intelligence and 
 reason pervaded rank and file; and while the sword was in its 
 scabbard, between acts, discussion held sway. It was in this 
 way that the revolutionary features were slowly wrought out, 
 and this will be clear only when we have paused by many a 
 camp-fire to witness the manifestations of a change in our 
 national character, as disclosed by the actors themselves. 
 
CAMP-FIRE I. 
 
 THE S. P. U. H. THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE THE CAMP OF 
 
 INSTRUCTION THE FARMER AND THE WATERMELONS 
 
 "HOW TEDIOUS AND TASTELESS THE HOURS " THE 
 
 CLOSING SCENE. 
 
 ^HE Society for the Preservation of Unpublished His- 
 tory, having been duly authorized and organized, with 
 each of its members a living embodiment of all the 
 accomplishments desirable in a minor historian, and each a 
 commissioned and lawful emissary of the great Muse, w^nt 
 forth determined to prove the beneficence of its existence, by 
 first gathering in and giving shelter to such facts and observa- 
 tions in the history of the Civil War in America as had not 
 felt the protecting hand of the "art preservative of all arts." 
 What the society lacked in numbers it made up in spirit, and 
 if its physical shortcoming was marked, its Muse-ical devel- 
 opment was proportionally great. 
 
 One feature, however, was especially noticeable, and this 
 was the unusually large ears of the members, which was 
 only another evidence of their fitness for the work in hand. 
 Aided by this abnormal development they would collect the 
 dying accents of many an unwept hero ; and, moreover, in 
 the modern school of ethics, an attentive ear is more to be 
 admired than an oily tongue; yea, than a tongue doubly oiled. 
 Likewise, they were well equipped in every appointment. But 
 it must not be inferred from this that the members of the 
 S. P. U. H. belong to the long-eared race of zoology, or that 
 
 (2) 17 
 
:8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 all historians have long ears, or that the long-eared race are 
 all historians, for such an inference would be historically in- 
 correct, and far from the purpose of the fraternity. 
 
 Enthusiastic over their worthy intention, the S. P. U. H. 
 arrived at a post of the Grand Army of the Republic, imme- 
 diately sought out the commander, and notified him that their 
 great ears itched for stories of the war, and memoirs of army 
 life. That eminent was astonished. Whether to consider 
 the society a fraud or a humbug he did not know. Certainly 
 it was not real, and yet the age of myths and miracles was 
 past. 
 
 "War!" said he; "I surrender. Your assault has found 
 me unarmed. The attack is a complete surprise." 
 
 Twenty years of active business life had dispelled all mili- 
 tary thoughts. In his efforts to recall his early life the gray- 
 haired veteran was almost tranced. But the balm of assur- 
 ance was administered, his soldierly instincts returned, and the 
 commander invited the S. P. U. H. to be at the rendezvous 
 when the sun's rays should be succeeded by those from the 
 camp-fire. 
 
 They consented, and at the appointed time met the assem- 
 bled veterans, who had been summoned into camp by the 
 commander. After the fire burned well and threw its com- 
 fort into the faces of those present, the historical hard-tack 
 and coffee were served in the style a la i86i-'65. When this 
 was done the chief bade the soldiers be quiet, and thus ex- 
 horted them: 
 
 "Comrades — I have called you into camp this evening for 
 special duty. We have present a representative of the Society 
 for the Preservation of Unpublished History. The ears of 
 this society itch for stories of our old camp-fires, marches, 
 battles and crude experiences, and memories of our ancient 
 valor. Let him among you who has the easiest tongue and 
 best memory now speak. Whoever may give any curious 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I9 
 
 information about the many features of soldier life, or describe 
 the manners and customs of the rank and file, the saddle, the 
 battery or the gunboat, or give a strange adventure, or some 
 point of history heretofore unrecorded, shall have his name 
 and regiment written in the great book of the Muse, which 
 the Society for the Preservation of Unpublished History has 
 now in charge. If any of you have such incidents and obser- 
 vations of unwritten history, let it now be divulged, or forever 
 be cast into oblivion." 
 
 Thereupon the pipe of peace was passed around the camp- 
 fire of plenty. When the "boys" were all settled. Rev. A. 
 R. Thain, a private of the 96th Illinois Infantry, remembered 
 an anecdote, and said: 
 
 " I think of one incident that occurred in our camp of in- 
 struction at Rockford, 111., but, for the benefit of our visitors I 
 will give what comes to my mind of our first experience in 
 war, before I relate it. 
 
 " Our country knew very little about war when the Civil 
 War broke out, and the task of forming an army from raw 
 recruits, many of whom had never seen a soldier, was great 
 indeed. Our only consolation in those days was that our 
 antagonists were in somewhat the same condition of igno- 
 rance. And yet we did possess one advantage over them ; we 
 knew that we were ignorant of the art of war, while many of 
 them thought themselves thoroughly proficient. Each South- 
 erner was ready to meet as many ' Yankees' as he had fin- 
 gers and toes, doubtless imagining himself the eldest son of 
 Maa's. I remember reading the statement of one writer con- 
 cerning the Confederate Army in its first organization; that 
 'every man brought a colored servant with him to stand guard, 
 or relieve his master of fatigue duty;' that 'every amateur 
 officer had his own pet system of tactics, and the effect of the 
 incongruous teachings, when brought out on battalion drill, 
 closely resembled that of the music of Bob Sawyer's party, 
 
20 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 where each guest sang the chorus to the tune he knew best.' 
 " But in the Union camps of instruction, all the boys who 
 were there will remember how strictly the discipline was en- 
 forced. The raw recruit was tied up so tightly with red tape 
 that he could hardly stir without an order from headquarters. 
 Every day he was ground between the upper and nether 
 millstones of company and battalion drill, and between times 
 was, perhaps, sifted and bolted by squad drill. His slow, care- 
 less gait had to be transformed into a prompt marching step. 
 His habit of executing all movements in easy curves must be 
 corrected, his muscles must have a certain jumping-jack jerki- 
 ness, his frame a ramrod uprightness, chest thrown back, eyes 
 to the front, little fingers at the seams of the pants; must learn 
 which was his left foot, and for some this was very diffi- 
 cult, for I know one man who was sent home from the camp 
 of instruction because he could not master the mysteries of 
 ' hay-foot, straw-foot.' 
 
 " But, perhaps, one of the most difficult things for the new 
 soldier to appreciate and do, was the performance of guard 
 duty — camp-guard in the home camp. It might do well 
 enough in the daytime, to keep citizens out and soldiers in, 
 and impress visitors with the pomp and pageantry of war; but 
 at night, when the soldiers were sleeping on the soft side of a 
 pine board and dreaming of the beds they had left behind 
 them, what necessity was there, military or otherwise, for 
 posting men all around the camp at intervals often or fifteen 
 rods ? 
 
 « The camp of instruction at Rockford was bounded on one 
 side by the Rock River, but I suppose if the camp had been on 
 an island it would have been surrounded by guards, if for 
 nothing else than to keep the river from creeping out of its 
 bed, or the frogs from jumping across the guard line. At 
 first, the men who stood camp guard adopted a somewhat 
 novel, but certainly very noisy way of relieving the tedium of 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 21 
 
 the night watches. If Mr. Darwin had been present he 
 might have said that it was a recurrence of ancient practices 
 in the line of man's descent, for each guard adopted the cry 
 of some beast or bird, and made' the night hideous with imi- 
 tations. From Post No. lo would come the crow of a cock; 
 Post No. 12 would answer with the headlong, heels-over- 
 head gobble of a turkey; Post No. 15 seemed to be held by a 
 dog, and from Post No. 20 would come the stridulous hee- 
 haw of a donkey. And this was practiced in many camps 
 throughout the war. Close imitations were greeted with 
 great applause. The most famous man in our line of bar- 
 racks was a private in Company D, 96th Illinois, who could 
 imitate the cry of a turkey so closely that the listener involun- 
 tarily thought of Thanksgiving. The sequel showed, how- 
 ever, that he could gobble better than he could fight. 
 
 " In the camp of instruction we also learned to forage. Ir. 
 was wrong, of course, to practice on friends, but the soldier's 
 stomach sometimes, got the better of his conscience. One 
 ludicrous incident occurred. A farmer came into camp with 
 a load of watermelons, and a crowd of soldiers gathered 
 around his wagon, as if eager to purchase his wet goods. One 
 soldier selected a melon and began to bargain very earnestly 
 for it, gradually drawing the farmer a fev/ steps further away 
 from the wagon. He told the farmer that he and his com- 
 rades had left their ancestral melon-patches to go and fight the 
 battles for the Union; that Uncle Sam did not pay them very 
 liberal wages; that as yet they had received no pay, but that 
 they were fond of melons, and he wanted to know what was 
 the lowest price which he would take for the particular melon 
 which he held in his hands. He argued very pathetically for 
 a low price. Being patriotic, the farmer sold it for a few 
 cents, and after some delay in making change, turned toward 
 the wagon to supply the other customers. But sad to tell, his 
 wagon was empty, and not a melon was in sight. Bringing 
 
32 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 eatables into the locality was like pouring water on a sand 
 heap. With a disgusted look, the farmer tried to get a last 
 glimpse of one of his melons, at least, but it was in vain, and 
 he mounted his wagon, remarking: 'Guess I'd better git 
 my wagon out o' here pretty soon, or you'll eat that.' He 
 left the camp soon after with an empty wagon, a flat pocket- 
 book, and a rather low opinion of camp morals." 
 
 When Mr. Thain had finished, Mr. Wm. Tasker, Chaplain 
 of an Illinois Infantry Regiment, began: 
 
 " That reminds me of one that occurred in Northern Mis- 
 souri, in a swamp called Mud Creek. It was the first guard 
 for many of the boys after leaving the camp of instruction, 
 and it was hard for some of them to accustom themselves to 
 the loneliness of sentinel duty. It was especially hard for 
 one young fellow, I remember, who had never been from 
 home very much, and already began to be homesick. His 
 post was in a thicket of undergrowth from which the large 
 trees had been cut, and it was his first night on guard. It had 
 been raining all the afternoon, and by eight o'clock in the 
 evening the usual camp-life was hushed, and all was quiet. 
 The night was very dark, and the rain still poured down — 
 one of those dreary, drizzly, dismal times so unwelcome to a 
 homesick soldier — in fact, the place and time could only be 
 duplicated by the dreariness of a Missouri thicket on a rainy 
 night. 
 
 "The lad paced his weary beat to and fro, to and fro, all 
 the evening. Nine o'clock came, and the stillness became op- 
 pressive. Ten o'clock came; still nothing could be heard ex- 
 cept the monotonous patter of the rain. Eleven o'clock; 
 twelve o'clock; all was quiet. The sentinel walked up and 
 down again. Then he sat down. Nothing would break the 
 silence. He thought of home. Then a tear trickled down 
 his cheek. To clear it away he began to sing: 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 2Z 
 
 '* ' How tedious and tasteless the hours 
 When Jesus no longer I see ; 
 Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flowers 
 Have all lost their sweetness to me.' 
 
 "Just then the officer of the guard, a gruff, irreverent speci- 
 men, came around, heard the music, and thought to have a 
 little sport. Creeping quietly up, he suddenly raised to his 
 feet within a few steps of the startled soldier. The music 
 ceased. 
 
 " ' Halt!' the sentinel commanded. ' Who goes there?' 
 
 " Placing his hands up to his mouth for a trumpet, the 
 officer loudly whispered, 'Jeff Davis/' 
 
 "'Oh! I thought it was the Second Relief,' said the 
 soldier." 
 
 Then Mr. Svanson John Petersen, of De Grace's Twenty- 
 Pound Paragon Battery, Company H, First 111. Light Artil- 
 lery of the United States of America Volunteers, arose. He 
 began with his favorite tribute to Gen. W. T. Sherman, and 
 was not alone in his admiration of the great chieftain; but the 
 boys had heard his story before, and knew its length. The 
 fire burned low, many of the soldiers had been doing fatigue 
 duty during the day, some of them had mixed their coffee 
 with a stronger beverage during the evening, and the major- 
 ity longed for the bimk. Mr. Petersen continued: 
 
 " It vas de march vrom Savannah to Raleigh. De camp 
 vas lade at night, und dere vas early rizing all de time. De 
 vedder vas bad, und de boys discourage. Ven de boys vas 
 discourage dey vould cuss de offisairs. Ve vas cussin' Sher- 
 man und de offisairs, ven ve vas riding along von day, because 
 de war vas too long. Ve vas vith de third gun, und I vas 
 de lead driver. De second driver he say to me, ' Keep still,' 
 All at once. 
 
 " Preddy zoon Sherman und his shtafF files along up de 
 rear. Sherman says, ' Vat's de matter?' 
 
14. CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 « ' Ve are tired oud,' ve zay. 
 
 " Den Sherman vas very polite. De soldiers are von by 
 his expression. He say : * Boys, it's preddy zoon over. I 
 know it's hard, but a little longer ve'll be home — ve are on 
 our vay home!' If he had been a captain he vould svear at 
 us. It vas very sad." 
 
 "Is that the end?" asked the Society for the Preservation 
 of Unpublished History. 
 
 « Veil, 1 haf anudder von," said Mr. Petersen. 
 
 " We will hear that another time," said the society. On 
 looking around it was discovered that there were a great 
 many dry eyes in the audience after this sad story. In fact, 
 all eyes were dry, and there emanated from the various breath- 
 ing apparatuses sounds indicative of weariness. The god 
 Morpheus had weighed their eyelids down; upon beholding 
 which the society beckoned Mr. Petersen to be seated. In 
 course of half an hour the soldiers began to leave camp, one 
 at a time, each quietly departing after he shook off his drowsi- 
 ness, and feeling too much victimized to arouse his felloW' 
 slumberers. 
 
CAMP-FIRE IL 
 
 HOW A BALKY HORSE DID NOT SURRENDER — THE EXECU- 
 TION OF DESERTERS A PENSION FOR A PIN-SCRATCH. 
 
 •HEN the veterans convened on the followinoj even- 
 ing, some one soberly alluded to the discourtesy of 
 the previous meeting in withdrawing from the 
 camp-fire so unceremoniously. With great humiliation 
 the guilty each made a low bow, and assured the others 
 that nothing but the best intention — which has excused far 
 greater crimes — had possessed them ; that they had quietly 
 withdrawn that they might leave their weary comrades to 
 the full enjoyment of unbroken slumber. This explanation 
 being accepted, Mr. Joseph Dewey, of the 7th Iowa Cavalry, 
 Company C, said : 
 
 " Let me relate the glorious tradition of how a balky horse 
 saved the life of Captain Bartlett. It was just before the capture 
 of Memphis, and our boys were returning from a three-days' 
 raid. We had come in sight of what we thought were two 
 regiments of Federal infantry, and wheeled about to join 
 them. But when we were within a few rods of the supposed 
 Federals, we suddenly discovered that they were about two 
 thousand 'Johnnies' in blue coats. 
 
 " Captain Bartlett had a very remarkable horse. He was a 
 dark bay, bob-tail, straight neck, and short ears. This horse 
 always held his head about twenty-nine degrees higher than 
 the heads of his fellows, probably from his sense of pride. 
 But with all his imperfections he was not blind. I have never 
 known of a blind horse that was balky. Jehu — that was his 
 
 25 
 
36 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 name — had two good I's, one for intelligence, the other for 
 indolence. However, he rarely used both at the same time. 
 He would glance backward with the eye of intelligence to 
 see what was going on in the rear, and then, all of a sudden, 
 he could see nothing more except through the indolence eye. 
 Yet withal, this noble animal was trustworthy — you could al- 
 ways trust him to eat a peck of oats and call for more; and he 
 was equally reliable for standing still when there was too 
 much weight on his back. 
 
 " Upon discovering the true character of the blue-coated 
 infantry, the cavalry wheeled again, and were off. Jehu 
 stopped. He had become tired of horse society. He desired 
 solitude. The captain whipped and spurred, all to no pur- 
 pose. Then the Confederates opened tire, and it began to be 
 uncomfortable for Jehu, though no damage was done. Then 
 another volley came, and Jehu at once concluded to join the 
 enemy. To cafry out this determination, he turned his head 
 to the left, stiffened his neck, and darted off in a 2:40 gait, 
 side-wise, to the right. This brought him into the midst of 
 the enemy, who yelled to the captain: * Surrender! sur- 
 render! You Yankee s — o — b — !' " 
 
 [This military term may need some explanation. It origi- 
 nated with the Confederates early in the war, and was an ap- 
 pellation given to all soldiers of the Union Army, from what- 
 ever point they hailed. In civil life it became shortened to 
 «' Yankee jc>3," but here it is used in its strictest hostile sense.] 
 
 " But no surrender for Jehu. The enemy's ranks parted and 
 let him through, but the firing continued, and still was heard : 
 
 "'Surrender! surrender! you Yankees^ o— b — !' 
 
 *' ' How in thunder can I surrender,' answered the captain, 
 still borne through the ranks on the back of the horse. ' I 
 will if you'll stop my horse.' Several shots were fired, but 
 strange to say, Jehu made good his escape without a scratch 
 to himself or the captain, amidst great applause." 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 27 
 
 Mr. H. p. Thompson, Orderly Sergeant of Company H, 
 49th New York, and later in charge of the provost guard, 
 then asked if the S. P. U. H. would like to hear concerning 
 the execution of two deserters. 
 
 "Yes,'' said their representative; "give us a description of 
 how deserters were executed." 
 
 " Well, I remember what I am going to tell as well as if 
 it happened only yesterday. The prominent part I bore in 
 the sad affair fixed it indelibly on my mind. 
 
 " It was near Brandy Station, Va., on the 3d of December, 
 1863. Desertions were becoming too frequent, and some- 
 thing had to be done to stop the disloyalty. Seventeen desert- 
 ers had been tried and sentenced at this time; but fifteen were 
 pardoned by the general proclamation of President Lincoln, 
 pardoning all deserters who would return and take their 
 places in the ranks. The two who were not pardoned were 
 George Blowers, of Company A, 3d Vermont, and John 
 Tague, Company A, 5th Vermont. There were a great many 
 trials for desertion during the war, but deserters were seldom 
 executed; they usually received a lighter sentence. Tlie 
 most general sentence was that the deserter should return to 
 the army and serve out all of his original time of enlistment 
 which had not been served, without pay or allowance. For 
 instance, if a soldier who had enlisted for four years had 
 deserted at the end of six months, he would be brought back 
 when caught, and be compelled to serve three years and 
 six months more. This was the penalty, except in flagrant 
 cases. 
 
 " Some were sent to Dry Tortugas, which was almost 
 equivalent to banishment. Dry Tortugas is a group of 
 islands belonging to the United States, at the entrance of 
 the Gulf of Mexico, 120 miles west southwest of Cape 
 Sable, the southern extremity of Florida. The islands are 
 very low and swampy, partly covered with mangrove 
 
28 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 bushes, which is a species of tropical fruit resembling the 
 paw paw and banana. It was a dismal place, and deserters 
 were compelled to serve out a term of years with ball and 
 chain, the same as other prisoners. 
 
 "Occasionally there was a man hung; but Tague and 
 Blowers were to be shot. The provost marshal of the county 
 or locality where they were cauo:ht had returned them, as 
 was the custom, to their regiment, and drav/n his bounty, 
 which was a reward of $50 apiece (I beheve), offered by the 
 State in which they were found. 
 
 " The court-martial then tried and sentenced them, and 
 they were placed in tents by themselves in charge of the pro- 
 vost guard, which was chosen pro rata from the different 
 regiments of a division. The guard in this instance was a 
 detail of twenty men chosen from the regular provost guard. 
 When a deserter was put under guard, two or three of these 
 men would stand with loaded muskets around the tent of the 
 deserter, being relieved every two hours. No soldier was 
 ever made to stand guard over a deserter from his own com- 
 pany or regiment, for, of course, it was always painful for 
 one comrade to be compelled to enforce a severe law upon a 
 fellow comrade, and possibly a schoolmate, or even a brother, 
 and then there was danger of a plot to escape if an intimacy 
 of this kind were allowed. So these two boys from Vermont 
 were handed over to our regiment, the 49th New York. 
 
 " It was a beautiful morning. The sky was clear, the sun 
 shone brightly, the air was soft and still, and two ambu- 
 lances, containing rough wooden coffins, were brought up to 
 the tents where the prisoners were under guard. Each 
 soldier was then placed in an ambulance, on his coffin, and 
 the retinue proceeded to the place of execution, about a 
 mile from the headquarters of the guard. The ambulances 
 were drawn this distance by the soldiers who were to do 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 29 
 
 the shooting. When they arrived at the chosen place, the 
 division, composed of about ten thousand soldiers, was formed 
 into a hollow square to witness the sad affair. A hollow 
 square is a double line of soldiers on three sides of a square, 
 fronting the fourth side, which is left open, as the objective 
 point of operations. It was used on this occasion for an im- 
 posing display, and to intimidate and prevent other soldiers 
 present from committing a like crime. 
 
 " It was a scene full of awe, never to be forgotten by those 
 who took part. All who witnessed it seemed to feel the 
 solemn presence of death. When the coffins were placed in 
 the open part of the square, John Tague attempted to be 
 jovial by rapping in the bottom of his coffin and asking some 
 of the boys if they could not put shavings or something 
 in it, as it would be a pretty hard nest; but no applause 
 greeted his remark, and it reacted upon him with solemn 
 force. The adjutant general then stepped out into a position 
 a little forward from the center of the square, and in a clear, 
 but tremulous voice, read the finding of the court-martial to 
 the troops. The guns used by the provost guard on occasions 
 like this were always loaded by a person appointed for the pur- 
 pose. It would not do to let soldiers load their own guns, as 
 they would probably put in blank cartridges. The feeling of 
 responsibility for a death was too intense in such cases. How- 
 ever, one blank cartridge was always put into one of the 
 guns, so that each of the men who did the shooting might 
 suppose that he had the blank, and that his shot did not kill 
 the prisoner. 
 
 "When the adjutant finished reading, the guard was 
 ordered forward, divided into two platoons of ten each, and 
 the guns were handed to them. As I have said, I shall 
 never forget this particular moment. I had charge of one of 
 the platoons, and the orders were that the man having such 
 charge should step up with a loaded musket and blow out the 
 
30 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 brains of the victim in case the volley discharged at him by 
 the platoon failed to kill! I held my musket ready in my 
 hand, and was to shoot John Tague. The other platoon was 
 in charge of Sergeant Otis B. Hayes. He was a man of 
 strong nerve and moral courage, but at this time he was as 
 pale as death and as weak as a child ; in fact, he could hardly 
 stand. He was to end the life of George Blowers, if the ten 
 shots from his platoon failed. 
 
 " While the finding of the court-martial was being read 
 by the adjutant, the doomed men stood up. But they were 
 now ordered to kneel on their coffins. A quarter-sheet of 
 ordinary note paper — called by the boys a ' paper heart ' — 
 was then pinned on the coat of each victim, over his heart. 
 When this was done, there was an awful silence. The 
 doomed boys had not been blindfolded, and each countenance, 
 though brave to the last, betrayed the solemn consciousness 
 that within a minute more they would be within the pale of 
 death. All was suspense. Clapping his hands to his heart, 
 John Tague said, ' Boys, shoot me here — make no mis- 
 take!' Then came the final order from the provost marshal: 
 
 « t Ready ! Aim ! Fire ! ' 
 
 " Tague fell forward on his face and never breathed again ; 
 but Blowers was horribly mangled, and fell forward on his 
 hands and knees, exclaiming : 
 
 " ' Oh ! my God — my God ! ' 
 
 " Sergeant Hayes trembled like an aspen. He was to end 
 the poor fellow's existence! He advanced toward the spot, 
 while ten thousand soldiers held their hushed breath. But, 
 to the relief of all. Blowers died before the Sergeant reached 
 him ; and the troops formed company front, and marched in 
 review past the coffins to view the bodies of their dead 
 comrades." 
 
 " That is true to the letter, and well given," said Andrew 
 W. Brazee, late major of the 49th New York. " I was the 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 31 
 
 provost marshal who gave the order,Jand remember it well." 
 
 A general from Ohio, who had charge of a brigade, then 
 gave this incident to illustrate the eagerness with which a 
 certain element in our army sought redress from the govern- 
 ment for injuries sustained, even before the pain of a hurt had 
 subsided ; in fact, an injury was hardly received before they 
 began to weigh, in their minds, the amount of annuity to 
 which they would be entitled. 
 
 *' A Dutchman had been detailed as an orderly on duty at 
 the general's headquarters, and in an engagement was unfortu- 
 nate enough to have the index and second finger of his right 
 hand shot off. He was running to and fro across the battle 
 field when he met the general, and, with tears rolling down 
 his cheeks, he exclanned, ' Oh, Sheneral, Sheneral, shoost look 
 at my hand.' The general, after expressing sorrow and sym- 
 pathy, was about to move on, when the man again turned his 
 tearful face toward him, and, holding up his bleeding hand, in 
 pitiful tones cried out: 
 
 "'Oh, Sheneral! Sheneral! how much pension I gets for 
 him ? Don't you tink I would get two pensions, one for each 
 finger what I lose.'" " 
 
 This story was considered a good one to close with, anJ 
 the second camp-fire was dismissed. 
 
CAMP-FIRE III. 
 
 THE MADDEST MAN IN THE ARMY A REGIMENTAL FOOT 
 
 RACE EFFECTS OF EXCITEMENT " BRESS DE LOr'." 
 
 POYS, do you recollect the race between our regiment 
 and the 2d Iowa?' said Mose Huntley, of the 53d Illinois. 
 "Yes," said Mr. Kessler, a First Lieutenant of one 
 of the companies, " it was just before the battle of Corinth, 
 and I remember about that time of seeing the maddest man 
 I ever saw in my life. He belonged to our company, and was 
 a fine soldier, patriotic and courageous, but impetuous. His 
 name was Peterson, I believe, a strong, burly Swede. 
 
 " The rebel Forrest had just made an audacious raid near 
 us. Peterson could stand it to fight an honest soldier in the 
 front, but when he thought of being hoodwinked by a treach- 
 erous guerilla, he almost tore his hair. We were ordered out 
 immediately after Forrest, and pursued him all night. Just 
 before daybreak we were passing through a low wooded 
 land, and thought we heard the noise of the enemy in our ad- 
 vance. Peterson broke into a run, thinking he would get 
 a shot at ' dem kersud gareelahs.' But alas ! just as he 
 started to run a vine tripped him, and he fell forward against 
 a sapling of two or three years' growth. His rage was un- 
 controllable. Swearing a chain of oaths, and clenching his 
 musket with a death-grip, he slashed away at the sapling with 
 the butt end, breaking the stock and ruining the barrel. But 
 this was not enough. He grappled with the enemy, gnawed, 
 kicked and twisted until he tore the tree up by the roots and 
 flung it awav." 
 
 32 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 3^ 
 
 "Ehic! 'nuther vict'ry fur United States arms," said Boozy 
 Dick, who was intoxicated to a stupefying degree. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Huntley, will you not give us the race now?" 
 said the Society for the Preservation of Unpublished Historyj 
 when Boozy Dick again essayed to exhort: 
 
 " Yes, let 'em go, Mose! I'll bet on the — on the — hie! — " 
 
 " The Sergeant-at-arms will please assist the sick veteran 
 to retire," ordered the commander, and accordingly Dick was 
 taken to the guard-house. 
 
 Mose Huntley then proceeded: 
 
 " Well, as I said at starting out, it was between our regi- 
 ment (the 52d Illinois) and the 2d Iowa, but Kessler stopped 
 me—" 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Comrade Huntley," said Mr. Kessler- 
 
 " My pardon is beggable," replied Mose, and continued: 
 
 " It was about two weeks before the battle of Corinth. 
 We were out on a forage, and came to an old out-of-the-way 
 house, about which weeds and bushes had grown. We heard 
 a noise in the house and found six Rebs with one Yankee 
 prisoner, whom they were trying to convert. 
 
 " ' Humph!' said the Yankee, ' I'll never join your crowd 
 as long as the United States has a flag and an army. You 
 darned nigger-keepin' traitors ought to be ashamed to fight 
 against such a flag as mine. If I was loose, I'd hang the 
 whole lot of you!' The prisoner had looked through a crack 
 and seen our boys coming, and it made him sort o' brave. *If 
 I wanted to I could call twelve legions to my help.' 
 
 "'Ha! ha! ha!' laughed the rebs. 'Why don't you do 
 it? Do it— call 'em.' 
 
 " 'Well, I will call a few of 'em — come on, boys,' said the 
 Yank, and just then our boys broke through the door and 
 took the whole six prisoners. 
 
 "We tore everything up, and finally found a barrel of 
 whiskey and one of black-strap." 
 3 
 
54 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 [" Black-strap " is a kind of syrup unskilfully made from 
 frost-bitten sugar-cane. It resembles a mixture of coal-tar, 
 glucose and stale soda water. Sometimes it was mixed with 
 whiskey, and swallowed with much relish by soldiers whose 
 stomachs must have been lined with something like cast-iron. 
 This chemical analysis has been obtained at great expense by 
 the S. P. U. H., and is known to be correct.] 
 
 " Near by was an old mill," continued Mr. Huntley, " and 
 strange to say, several bushels of wheat in a bin. We took 
 some o' the wheat and put it in the hopper, and some of the 
 boys would grind while the others watched. We ground 
 about a bushel before the wheels got hot, and then they began 
 to screech. We had nothing but cotton-seed oil, and that 
 gummed so that it was no use to put it on. We ground 
 about six bushels, when the old rattle-trap stopped short, 
 never to go again! Squee-squawk, squee-squawk — you 
 could hear it for twenty-five miles!" 
 
 " Aw! come down a peg," said one of the boys. 
 
 " Well, you could hear it for five miles — I'll swear it," 
 said Mose. 
 
 " Then we took the bran, whiskey, and black-strap, and 
 started for camp. We did not open either of the barrels, as 
 we thought we would save it all and have a good time 
 with the whole regiment that night. But alas! General 
 Oglesby confiscated our entire stock. He told the teamster 
 to drive the ambulance up to his tent and sleep on those bar- 
 rels that night. The general was all right in this, because he 
 had just chased the Rebel general. Rowdy, oflf fifty miles that 
 day, and expected him back that night. He ordered the 
 brigade to lie on their arms in line, for an emergency. 
 
 " We wrapped ourselves in our blankets and lay down — 
 but not to sleep. The news of the whiskey had been circu- 
 lated among the boys, and made 'em restless. They rolled 
 up in their blankets and began to - spoon! ' " 
 
3(1 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " WJiat is ' spooning ' ? " asked the Society for the Pres- 
 ervation of Unpublished History. 
 
 " ' Spoonin,' my dear children," explained a veteran in 
 the art, " is when soldiers wrap up in their blankets and roll 
 back'ards and for'ards over one 'nother for fun. It is done 
 when they have too much « budge ' aboard. But this time 
 they were only anticipatin', and sort o' goin' through the 
 motions like. They hadn^t had anythin' to drink, an' so it vv^as 
 purty dry spoonin'. 
 
 "It was lo o'clock and the Rebel general, Rowdy, 
 hadn't come yet. The boys didn't like the idea o' being 
 cheated out of their « regular,' and so they 'pointed a com- 
 mission to look after them barrels of General Oglesby's. 
 The commission crawled up quietly to the wagon, and 
 enough of the boys formed a line on their knees to pass the 
 canteens back from the wagon to the bivouac, so that no 
 noise would be made. It was not long before the commis- 
 sion got an auger an' commenced to bore through the bot- 
 tom of the wagon up into the barrels. The first barrel they 
 bored into was the black-strap, but they plugged that up, and 
 it did not take long to get the whiskey out of the other one. 
 The canteens were passed back, and the boys had a good old 
 'spoon,' never waking the driver, who slept on the barrels. 
 
 " In the morning the officers thought they would sample 
 the whiskey, and sent to the wagon for some. But of course 
 the boys had emptied the barrel, and when it was reported 
 to General Oglesby, he came out, called the boys together, and 
 asked: 
 
 " ' Who in (Hades) stole that whiskey? ' 
 
 " < The 2d and 7th Iowa!' said our boys. 
 
 " 'No, sir! the 53(1 Illinois,' said the Iowa boys. 
 
 *'Just then General Sweeney (then our Colonel) came 
 out, and he looked awfully dry and disappointed. ' Who stole 
 that whiskey.'* ' he inquired. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 3^ 
 
 *' ' The 3d and 7th Iowa ! ' we answered, and the Iowa 
 boys again said we did it. 
 
 "'By the powers! I'll arrest every one of you,' said 
 Sweeney. 
 
 " But he didn't. When it comes to arrestin' two or three 
 regiments o' soldiers, it's not easily done. Then we were sud- 
 denly ordered to Corinth on double-quick, to resist an attack 
 by the Johnnies. The sun was hot, and the air sultry. The 
 march was heavy, and we double-quicked it every step. As 
 we proceeded, some of the boys became so worn-out that 
 they dropped out, and lay down on the roadside. Some 
 were sunstruck, and many were disabled for life, who are 
 drawing pensions now for that very march. Before we got 
 to Corinth, it was told among the boys that General Weaver 
 (then Colonel of the zd Iowa) had bet General Sweeney 
 $500 that the 2d Iowa could beat the 53d Illinois to Corinth. 
 This nerved the boys up, and the ranks kept thinning out. 
 I think there were some deaths reported from fatigue. When 
 we got to Corinth in the evening there were only sixteen of 
 our company to report — the rest had dropped on the way. 
 Our company was the first to get in, but I never wanted any 
 more races in mine. 
 
 " There were no rebels there, nor any signs of any. The 
 boys said the race was on account of the bet, but I thought it 
 was to punish us for stealing the whiskey." 
 
 '^AU that might have been avoided," said Capt. J. M. 
 Shields, of Company F, 77th Illinois, "but let me remind 
 you of something that could not have been avoided — a curious 
 result which was the experience of almost every soldier in 
 the war, and shows how various are the effects of excitement 
 under fire, upon different temperaments. 
 
 " We were ordered to the extreme right in the battle of 
 Chickasaw Bluffs, which placed us on the bank of the Mis- 
 sissippi. It was necessary to skirmish our way along, and 
 
38 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 before we arrived there, serious trouble occurred. We had 
 never been in an engagement, and none of us knew whether 
 we could stand fire or not. Troops could never be de- 
 pended upon the first time, though they generally came 
 through all right. 
 
 " Our way was through a wooded country, and as usual 
 in skirmishing, the orders were for every fellow to look out 
 for himself. We pushed on in our irregular line for several 
 hundred yards, the boys becoming more and more scattered. 
 They realized now, for the first time in their lives that they 
 were to be shot at. Some were eager and almost rash in 
 their recklessness to push forward and get a shot at the rebs. 
 At times they would be so far in advance that they would 
 have to be ordered back. Others advanced in mortal fear, 
 though they were patriotic and sincere enough, and made 
 good soldiers afterward. But the terror and excitement that 
 seized numbers of them, made them almost powerless to act, 
 for they would lose all control of their nerves, and it is a sin- 
 gular but well-established fact, that under such circumstances 
 the, bowels are the first portion of the human system to feel 
 this prostration of the nerves." 
 
 Hundreds of soldiers in our civil war became deathly sick 
 under their first fire, though through no cowardice of their 
 own. 
 
 " As we went on, the woods became thicker, and the fir- 
 mg sharper. The excitement grew greater, and then the 
 trouble began. Fully five hundred of our regiment were 
 seized with the complaint, and affairs grew serious indeed. 
 Among them was one poor fellow whom I shall never for- 
 get. He had kept well to the rear all along, but I cheered 
 him up, pushed him ahead, and managed to keep him in the 
 company. 
 
 " Presently we came out in a turnip patch, and when we 
 were well in view, the rebs poured a volley into us. This 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 39 
 
 was the climax. The bullets rattled and stirred the dust 
 about our feet, yet no one was hurt. But the panic was upon 
 us, and it was not possible to hold the weakest. One or two 
 of the boys rushed forward and gained the shelter of a fence 
 beyond, but the rest rapidly retreated. 
 
 " I went back with the company, and in the rear found 
 the young man I had aided. He was lying on the ground, 
 deathly pale, writhing in supposed pain, and was so weak 
 that he could not stand. I ordered him to get up and advance 
 immediately, knowing that with one strong effort he would 
 regain his courage. But he was in a sad state, and with his 
 arms tightly pressed about his stomach, he pleaded : ' Oh! my 
 God, my God! captain, do, do let me stop here. Oh! I am so 
 sick — oh ! — oh !' 
 
 " I could only pity the poor boy, and so I let him remain 
 until he recovered. Yet he was only one of many who passed 
 through the same experience, and afterward became the most 
 courageous soldiers." 
 
 The 7th Iowa was then glorified in this manner by Mr. 
 William F. Montgomery: 
 
 " When Sherman reached Columbia, S. C, 300 Union 
 officers were imprisoned there. These were liberated and the 
 city was fired. But before this the prisoners were slurred 
 with all kinds of foul insults. Nothing seemed too base for 
 the home-guards and women to utter. They were worse 
 than the women of New Orleans before Butler's ' Woman 
 Order.' 
 
 " But there was one consolation, even though it came in the 
 form of ebonized humanity. Every insult thrown at the 
 Union prisoners only increased the enthusiasm of the negroes. 
 Multitudes of negro women and children always hung about 
 the army, and hailed the Union soldiers as their deliverers. 
 They meant well enough, but their sympathy was generally 
 carried to excess, and they became almost a general nuisance^ 
 
40 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 especially the ignorant and superstitious field hands. it was 
 a strain on moral courage to endure the majority of the negroes 
 who worked about the houses, but these were infinitely more 
 decent than the field hands. 
 
 " In our company was a little wiry, sawed-ofF man, who 
 hated a negro worse than a snake. When the boys wanted a 
 little sport they would call on Tom to ' cuss the niggers,' and 
 he invariably responded. He repeatedly declared that, ' if 
 the niggers is emancipated I'll leave the army.' But he didn't 
 leave. He staid right along until the climax was reached 
 at Columbia. As we marched up, the negroes swarmed out 
 on all sides to meet us. Among them was an old field hand, 
 a big, stout wench, who would weigh over 400 pounds avoir- 
 dupois. Her cheeks hung down, and so did her lower lip, 
 which was something near an inch in thickness, and her hair 
 seemed like the tail of a horse that had been feeding in a 
 cockle-burr field, except that it had the hereditary kink not 
 found in horse-hair. 
 
 " The excitement among the negroes grew greater and 
 more intense, and their eyes protruded far beyond their usual 
 limit, as the army came near. They sang, and danced, and 
 shouted. The big woman was especially wild. She raised 
 her arms, snorted like an elephant, and started straight for 
 me. I had been in twenty-two hard-fought battles; had heard 
 the bullets sing past my ears, and shells over my head ; many 
 a time had faced death in a thousand forms, and was in the 
 present emergency well armed; but for once in my life I beat 
 a hastv retreat. The old negress gained on me, and I was 
 almost within her reach, the ranks ringing with applause, 
 when I stepped behind the wiry little nigger-hater, and the 
 negress wrapped her great arms around him, lifting him oflf 
 his feet, and shouting: 
 
 "'Bress de Lor'! Bress de Lor'! Yooz de ones we's 
 bin prayin' faw dese fo yeahs ! Lor' bress ye, honey! I lub 
 
42 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 ye — I lubye! Hm — hm — ,' and she squeezed the httle wiry 
 man the tighter, while the boys cheered louder than ever." 
 
 Some of the veterans present remembered the incident, 
 and together with the Society for the Preservation of Unpub- 
 lished History, they re-echoed the applause of twenty years 
 ago. 
 
 When the auditors were quiet again, the commander said 
 that a drum corps from the Freedmen's Exodus Society 
 would like to favor the camp-fire with an attack. The camp- 
 fire submitted, and the drum corps filed in. Unfortunately, 
 however, the man who tuned the drums had died soon after 
 the war, and the position which he vacated had been unfilled up 
 to date, so that the instruments were somewhat out of repair, 
 and somewhat more out of tune. Then the stifled ether was 
 stirred with rut-tut-tut, bum-bum ! rut-tut-tut, bum-bum ! and 
 it was thought, from the most scientific musical analysis, that 
 the drum corps had started out on the appropriate tune of 
 
 "Ain't I glad I'm out of the Wilderness," 
 
 ■ — an old edition, perhaps, revised and enlarged, with varia- 
 tions and side- notes complete, rearranged especially for the 
 drum corps of the Freedmen's Exodus Society. The drum- 
 mers warmed up to their performance, and the melody be- 
 came more intense. After they had played a short time there 
 began to be a remarkable prevalence of headache, and then 
 the audience began to ache all over. The commander was 
 petitioned for mercy. The tenor became louder and shriller^ 
 the bass deeper and heavier. The commander then deliber- 
 ately but loudly ordered the music to face about and halt. But 
 no command could be heard amidst "the clash of arms." 
 Each burly son of Ham had now closed his eyes and nerved 
 himself for the first grand crescendo. The result was inevit- 
 able. If the soldiers waLed for the climax they would all be 
 placed on the pension-list for broken ear-drums. There was 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 43 
 
 only one way out of the difficulty —that was past the guard. 
 That individual, they found, had already fled, and the whole 
 camp soon stampeded after him. When the drummers opened 
 their eyes, after they had finished their selection, they looked 
 about them, found nothing but darkness, and probably ad- 
 fourned. 
 
-sp- 
 
 CAMP-FIRE IV. 
 
 BUTTERMILK WITHOUT MONEY, BUT NOT WITHOUT PRICE 
 
 FREAKS UNDER FIRE " JOHNNIES " AND " YANKS " 
 
 STOP SHOOTING TO SHAKE HANDS SOLDIERS AT THE 
 
 -SOUTHERN 
 
 ,LL the veterans answered at roll-call this evening, as did 
 all the visiting brethren — including the S. P. U. H. — 
 except the drum corps of the Freedmen's Exodus So- 
 ciety. No one asked any question, not caring even to call to 
 mind the experience of the previous evening. 
 
 Mr. John G. Morrison began to speak: 
 
 "In the fall of 1863, our Regiment (the loist 111.) was 
 transferred from West Tennessee to Bridgeport, Ala., and at- 
 tached to the nth Army Corps. Supplies for the army at 
 Chattanooga were at that time carried on mules from Bridge- 
 port by a circuitous route along the north bank of the Ten- 
 nessee River. To open up a shorter and better route, the nth 
 and 1 3th Army Corps, not then reorganized into the 20th, 
 were ordered to march across to Chattanooga. 
 
 " On the second day's march a discussion arose in Com- 
 pany D, as to which army then occupied Lookout Mountain. 
 One man stoutly maintained that Rosecrans did not lose at 
 Chickamauga, and to settle the matter, one of D's men broke 
 ranks and ran up to a house, and politely asked a lady who 
 was standing in the door, and -trying to feel that she wasn't 
 subdued and never would be, whether there were any Confed- 
 erates on Lookout Mountain. She replied very tartly that 
 when he came back he might tell her. 
 
 " The midnight fight in the valley, the battles of Mission 
 
 44 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 45 
 
 Ridge and Lookout Mountain were soon fought, and after 
 the terrible mid-winter march to the rehef of Knoxville, and 
 a rest at Kel ley's Ferry, our regiment marched back over the 
 same road through the valley, to Bridgeport. We had all of 
 us forgotten the woman and her evasive answer, except the 
 soldier who questioned her. As we passed the house, he again 
 left the ranks and went up to the house, taking another com- 
 rade and half a dozen canteens with him. 
 
 "' Madam,' he said, making his best bow, 'I am going 
 back now, and stopped to tell you that there is not a single 
 Confederate on the mountain.' 
 
 "'Clar out!' said the woman. 
 
 "'Well, madam, I saw some very nice buttermilk when I 
 was here before, and I thought I would bring my canteen 
 along and have it filled.' 
 
 *"Navvsir!'' growled the woman. 'I don't never give 
 no Yankee no buttermilk o' mine.' 
 
 " ' You seem to be decidedly in the negative, madam, but 
 I'll fay you for the milk — you'll never have to give a Union 
 soldier any buttermilk.' 
 
 " With this assurance, the woman filled the canteens, in 
 high hope that she would get some United States money, for 
 Confederate scrip was already depreciating, notwithstanding 
 the stringent laws in force against a discrimination in favor of 
 United States money. 
 
 "'How much are these worth? ' asked the soldier, putting 
 the several canteens into his several pockets. 
 
 " ' Two dollars apiece! ' said the woman. 
 
 "' Ain't that pretty high? ' asked the soldier, fumbling in 
 every pocket he had to find solne money. 
 
 " ' Thought yer said I wouldn't have to give no Union sol- 
 dier no buttermilk,' said the woman, surmising the true state 
 of affairs. 
 
 "'You will not,' said he soldier — 'I'll get the money of 
 
46 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 my comrade just out in the yard,' and he started out; with 
 his hands he beckoned the comrade to go back toward the 
 passing columns, while with his voice he called him toward 
 the house. Of course the comrade was in a hurry to get 
 back to the ranks, and the soldier with the canteens moved on 
 alter him with apparent reluctance, leaving the woman stand- 
 ing in her doorway watching her buttermilk disappear over 
 the hill, her great expectation slowly changing into disap- 
 pointment, and then disgust." 
 
 When Mr. Morrison finished speaking Mr. Thain asked 
 if the socict)' would like to be initiated into skirmishing, and 
 the active business life of the line of battle. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply, " it may be read with ravenous in- 
 terest by the two-thousand-one-hundred-and-third generation 
 hence." 
 
 " Well, let us take Sherman's Atlanta campaign as the 
 main basis of illustration; for the war was not conducted 
 scientifically, and with absolute certainty of success, until after 
 General Grant was placed in command of all the Union 
 forces, and had arranged a concert of action between the 
 East and the West. There is a completeness about the cam- 
 paigns of 1864, which renders that year of the conflict an in- 
 teresting study as illustrating the art of war. 
 
 " Sherman's army when he began the Atlanta campaign, 
 was 100,000 strong; Johnston's 60,000 strong, but he had the 
 advantage of a friendly country in his rear, and the additional 
 advantage of a succession of carefully fortified lines in the 
 line of his possible retreat. A large force of negroes was at 
 work all the while in his rear; and when he abandoned one 
 line of works he had another to take shelter in. Sherman's 
 advantage consisted in the fact that he could spare at least 
 40,000 men to lap around the right or left of Johnston's posi- 
 tion, and by threatening his communications compel him to fall 
 back. Every direct attack made ' y Sherman failed, but the 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 47 
 
 flank movement was always successful, though it had a de- 
 moralizing effect on the Confederates, who thereby had to 
 confess their weakness by falling back each time, and finally 
 were shut up in Atlanta. 
 
 " Having given this general outline of the way in which 
 the campaign was conducted, let us now suppose that Sher- 
 man is beginning to feel one of Johnston's strong posi- 
 tions, for instance, the line including Kenesaw, Pine and Lost 
 Mountains. But this is ticklish work, approaching a strong 
 line in a country which is rough and hilly, and much of it 
 heavily timbered. The enemy may sally out on us while we 
 are forming our line, or before our front is protected by earth- 
 works. Yet the Union soldiers are mighty diggers, and if 
 the Johnnies as much as stop to tie their shoe strings before 
 starting, they will find a line of works barring their advance, 
 raised as if by magic. On the Atlanta campaign, the spade 
 was mightier than the sw^ord. Our men did not need to be 
 urged to fortify; the enemy's shell urged them in language 
 which needed no interpretation. As soon as a line was 
 formed, and arms stacked, they began to dig, almost as in- 
 stinctively as a mole begins to burrow when placed on the 
 ground. In every new deal that Sherman and Johnston 
 made, spades were trumps, and as our boys knew how to 
 play the game, we usually won. 
 
 " It was amazing to see how quickly a line could be thrown 
 up in that timbered country. Logs, rails, stumps, stones — any- 
 thing which could form a slight protection, was piled along the 
 regimental front, and inside of this a trench was dug, the 
 earth being thrown outside to form a breastwork. In a few 
 minutes it is strong enough to resist a musketry fire, and a 
 sudden charge could be successfully repelled by the aid of this 
 frail work. When there was no danger of immediate attack, 
 or when this first breastwork became a part of the regular 
 line of investure, a strong parapet was built, faced with logs, 
 
^|8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 poles, or rails, perpendicular on the inside, and four or five 
 feet high. The trench on the inside was then widened to 
 from four to six feet, and deepened to two feet, the earth being 
 thrown over in front again, and making a wall on the outside, 
 four to six feet thick. The parapet was generally crowned 
 with a head-log, a space being left between its under side and 
 the parapet to fire through. The head-log rested on skids, 
 which sloped off across the trench to keep the log from injur- 
 ing the men, if displaced by a cannon-shot. These works were 
 sometimes further strengthened by an abatis of tree tops, 
 placed a number of rods in front, with their sharpened branches 
 turned tow^ard the enemy. Through this an attacking column 
 would find great diflficulty in making their way under fire. 
 Such works could be held against almost any direct attack, as 
 Sherman found to his cost in his unsuccessful charge on the 
 Kenesaw line on the 37th of June. 
 
 " The skirmish pit was much like the mainline in construc- 
 tion, except that it was lighter and only twelve or fifteen feet 
 long. The skirmish pits were placed as far in advance of the 
 main line as the location of the enemy's pits would permit, 
 the opposing skirmish lines often being uncomfortably near 
 each other. 
 
 " The establishment of a skirmish pit in- an exposed posi- 
 tion, in the face of a watchful Confederate line, was a task re- 
 quiring the wisdom of a serpent, the courage of a lion, and the 
 building powers of a beaver. I distinctly remember one 
 particular skirmish line in front of Johnston's Allatoona line of 
 defense; and though the situation now presents itself to me in 
 a somewhat ludicrous light, it was serious enough on Satur- 
 day, the 28th of May, 1864. We went on the skirmish line 
 before daylight, as it was in an open field in plain sight of the 
 enemy's main line, and not more than 300 yards from their 
 skirmish line. The particular post where I found myself was 
 sheltered by two lengths of rail -fence in the shape of a letter 
 
fT* 
 
 
 I 
 
 liliih 
 
 
 .Iif'r'i '1 
 
 I'! '; ' ^il h: 
 
50 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 V, strengthened somewhat by additional rails. At first we 
 confined our attention to the enemy's skirmish pits, and many 
 sharp shots were exchanged. But along in the forenoon we 
 became ambitious, and began tc ry the efiect of long-range 
 shots on the main line. Directly in front of us was one of the 
 enemy's batteries, and as we could now and then see a man 
 not sheltered by the parapet, or an officer riding along on 
 horseback, it amused us to see how our long-range shots 
 would quicken their pace. Some of the shots must have taken 
 effect, or, at any rate, they could bear our fire no longer, for 
 about the middle of the forenoon that battery opened a terrible 
 fire on our particular pile of rails. 
 
 " We had thought that oar insignificance was our best pro- 
 tection, but now the tables were sadly turned. We knew 
 that the loose rails would aid in our destruction if a shot 
 should strike them, but we clung to our fence corner, dread- 
 ing the skirmish fire if we should leave it. 
 
 " Serious as the situation was, a ludicrous feeling flashed 
 through my mind for a moment as I looked around for a place 
 to lie down. My comrades, including the lieutenant of tne 
 guard, were piled together in the corner of the V, each try- 
 ing to make himself as flat as — " [some of the sermons 
 preached by the chaplains — the S. P. U. H. thought he said 
 — as their great ears for once failed to catch the comparison ; 
 but it might have been as flat as they lay when robbing hen- 
 roosts while the property man was near. However, the 
 society concluded, without any reflection upon the speaker, 
 that posterity must necessarily suffer the loss of some eloquent 
 points of history; otherwise the historian of three thousand 
 years hence would have no ancient manuscripts to ponder 
 over.] 
 
 " The boys were so mixed together," continued the nar- 
 rator, "that T could not distinguish one from the other. I 
 lay down behind the pile, and wished myself behind the main 
 
 I 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 51 
 
 line. Shell after shell shrieked over us so close that we could 
 almost feel the wind of them, and one or two burst just be- 
 hind the post, but nothing struck our pile of rails. 
 
 " The fire from the enemy's batteries became so sharp that 
 our batteries began to answer it, and this turned their atten^ 
 tion from such small game to pay their respects to our main 
 line. Other batteries began to join in, and as gun after gun 
 awoke from both sides it seemed as if old Nick had let loose 
 all his dragons. When the firing ceased we became badgers, 
 one and all, and began to dig for dear Hfe. Bayonets, tin 
 plates, pieces of rails — anything that could turn up earth, 
 was used. 
 
 " By-and-by, when the Confederate skirmishers were not 
 alert, one of our number crept along, Indian-fashion, past a 
 light growth of bushes to the next post to the right. He soon 
 returned with a spade, and if that spade had been solid gold, 
 handle and all, presented to our post for our sauciness in stir- 
 ring up such a hub-bub, it could not have been received with 
 greater delight. At first it was used with great difficulty, for 
 to rise to one's feet, even in a stooping posture, v/as almost sure 
 death from a rebel musket-ball. By slow degrees a shaft was 
 sunk in the fence-corner, deep enough for a man to stand up- 
 right, and by making frequent changes, that spade was so 
 diligently used, that by the middle of the afternoon we had 
 transformed our frail defense into a shot-proof redan. 
 
 " Then we opened on that battery again, loading and fir- 
 ing as fast as we could, and they opened on us more furiously 
 than before, but we answered them shot for shot. We had 
 one advantage, for, by watching the puffs of smoke from their 
 cannon we could seek safety in the subterranean region of our 
 little fort before the shot reached us. We could dodge their 
 shots, but they could not dodge our musket-shots, which were 
 imperceptible. They tried us with solid shot, then shell, then 
 grape-shot; but all in vain. We " silenced" that battery, that 
 
52 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 is, they ceased firing because their shots were of no effect ; 
 then we rested on our laurels. Those of my hearers who 
 have never been in a battle may get some idea of the skirmish 
 line of a great battle by multiplying many times the expe- 
 rience just related. 
 
 "The Atlanta campaign might be called a skirmish one 
 hundred and twenty days long, rising now and then into a 
 battle; for, from the time that we took the enemy's works at 
 Tunnel Hill on May 7, until we parted company with 
 Hood's army at Jonesboro, below Atlanta, the skirmish fire 
 hardly ever ceased. 
 
 " The two armies became familiar with each other on the 
 skirmish line ; and familiarity bred rested. On the Kenesaw 
 line the skirmishers began to parley with each other, and 
 friendly meetings between the lines became frequent. 
 
 " I happened to be on the skirmish line when the practice 
 first began. One afternoon there was a pretty lively fire for 
 awhile, and then a lull. It seemed as if both sides had 
 become tired; and then the Johnnies hailed us thus: 
 
 "' Hello, Yanks! Let up awhile. Stop firing, and send 
 out two unarmed men half way, to talk with two of ours.' 
 
 " ' Do you want to surrender? ' we asked. 
 
 " ' No! Give us a rest, and we'll have a chat with you.' 
 
 "'All right, Johnny; you do the same.' 
 
 **A man from company A and myself started through the 
 woods toward the rebel line, and before we had gone very 
 far, we saw coming toward us two butternut-clad men, who 
 were almost duplicates of Hercules. The rebs had not yet 
 learned to trust our word, and so they had sent two men fa- 
 mous for their fighting powers in a rough-and-tumble en- 
 counter. I do not say that we had been selected for the same 
 reason, though, in fact, my companion was a noted fist- 
 fighter — the terror of the whole camp when he was 
 intoxicated. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CiViL WAR. 53 
 
 " These two tall men were brothers from Texas, but oir. 
 meeting was so friendly that suspicion was disarmed at once, 
 and we sat down for a talk. The first question of the John- 
 nies' was: 
 
 "'Ain't you 'uns most tired o' this thing?' 
 
 « It was evident that they were ; but we told them that 
 we had come to Dixie to see the thing through, and that 
 when they were ready to say quit, and call us brothers under 
 the Stars and Stripes, we would gladly go home. 
 
 " ' But why have you 'uns come down here to take away 
 our niggers ? ' 
 
 " We assured them that such was not our object, and tried 
 to enlighten them as to the cause of the war. They were 
 very ignorant, and hardly knew what they were fighting 
 for; but were wise enough to know that they were being 
 beaten. They were anxious for some ' Lincoln coffee,' as 
 they called it, and we gave them some from our haversacks. 
 At this time the Johnnies were living on rye coffee, corn 
 bread and bacon. 
 
 " ' You Yanks drink Rio,' they said, * but we drink Ry-ef 
 
 " After exchanging Northern papers for some of the 
 wretchedly-printed sheets then published in the South, we 
 parted company with our two tall Texan friends, and soon 
 both parties were safe within their own lines. 
 
 " Here is a sample of the newspapers published in the 
 South in the latter part of the war," and the speaker held up 
 a copy of the " Vicksburg Citizen," of July 3, 1863. 
 
 It was an interesting relic. Stationery was somewhat 
 scarce in Confederate society, and even in business circles, 
 when this edition of the "Citizen" was printed. Every- 
 thing available in the line of paper had been used in making 
 government " scrip," so that there was little supply for the 
 baser needs of civilization. However, the editor of the 
 "Citizen" was enterprising, and would not suspend his pub- 
 
54 CAMf-FlRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 lication as long as anything like paper could be found with 
 one white side to it. By the merest chance he obtained a 
 quantity of fifth-grade wall-paper at a fabulous price, and at 
 once proceeded to issue the " Citizen," only two days before 
 the surrender of the city. It was a daily paper — daily when- 
 ever the proprietor could find anything to print it on — and the 
 copy exhibited was sixteen inches long by eleven inches wide, 
 with four minion columns of war news quite clearly printed 
 on the uncolored side. The coloring of the other side was a 
 rough, gloomy green for the solid color, having a brown vine- 
 like fiofure with a red flower for the ornamentation. It was a 
 novel publication — a monument to the endeavor of the pro- 
 prietor, who could in reality present his readers with a 
 chromo this time — and only commemorates the extremities 
 developed by war. 
 
 The relic was passed around for the curious to examine, 
 while the speaker continued: 
 
 "As soon as we were safe in our own lines there would 
 come a hail, * Look out, Yanks! we're going to shoot!* 
 
 " ' All right, Johnny, pop away ! ' And for some time the 
 skirmish fire would be kept up with unusual briskness, like 
 children who break into an uproar after a period of enforced 
 silence. 
 
 "There was nothing malicious about it; indeed, there was 
 very little personal malice at this time between the men of 
 the two armies. We had learned to respect each other on 
 many a well-fought field, and when olir men fell into their 
 hands the regular soldiers treated them kindly. It was the 
 v/retched State militia, home-j^uaius, and soldiers who had 
 never seen a battle, who treated our prisoners so cruelly at 
 A^ndersonville and other Southern prisons. 
 
 " In concluding, I will offer a little incident which inspired 
 the song, ' Hold the Fort.' The original was not veiy reli- 
 gious, but in battle, under great excitement, men do and say 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 55 
 
 things which would not be excusable in civil life. It was at 
 the bloody battle of AUatoona Pass; and Sherman, fearing 
 that General Corse, who held an important position, might 
 wenl^en, dispatched him to 'hold the fort' at all hazards. To 
 this General Corse replied : * I am short a cheek-bone and an 
 ear, but can whip all h — 1 yet.' " 
 
 " Your reference to the skirmish lines," said Gen. Ira 
 J. Bloomfield, of the 26th Illinois, "reminds me of some of 
 the freaks the boys committed at the siege of Atlanta. When 
 the siege was in full blast, we moved our entrenchments to 
 within fifteen or twenty paces of the enemy in many places, 
 and the men resorted to all kinds of tricks and devices to get 
 a good shot. One was to get a piece of looking-glass, and 
 then turn a loaded gun-barrel down, pointed over the top of 
 our works; and by lying down below it, and using the look- 
 ing-glass, a soldier could sight his gun without exposing him- 
 self at all. But a very ingenious contrivance was to hollow a 
 conical minie-ball and fill it with powder, and then fit a 
 percussion cap to the point of the ball, with an opening 
 down to the powder. One man would load his rifle with 
 this ball, and several of his comrades would stand with their 
 weapons cocked, ready to fire. The man with the conical 
 ball in his rifle would fire at a stump, fence-rail, or any solid 
 substance that could be seen near the enemy's rifle pits. 
 When this bullet struck, it would explode and sound as if 
 some one just outside their works had fired a gun. This nat- 
 urally would make them raise their heads to see what it 
 meant. Then came the opportunity for the men in waiting 
 to surprise their antagonists with the most effective shots, 
 much to the gratification of our men, and the chagrin of the 
 boys m gray." 
 
CAMP-FIRE V. 
 
 A SURPRISE FOR THE JOHNNIES — WITH BANKS UP THE RED 
 RIVER PRISON LIFE IN TEXAS SOLDIERS YET ON PA- 
 ROLE — TROUBLE BETWEEN THE I3TH AND I9TH ARMY 
 CORPS. 
 
 fHE incidents related at the close of the last camp-fire, 
 revived many another experience, and the roll-call was 
 .^ scarcely finished before a comrade belonging to the looth 
 Indiana besought that the following might be chronicled: 
 
 " While at New Hope Church, Ga., we advanced oi.r 
 lines each night, until our brigade — the second of the first di- 
 vision of the 15th Army Corps — had advanced and entrenched, 
 by actual count, to within 1 14 steps of the rebel works. The 
 only guard duty we did was to make a detail of three men to 
 each company to do camp guard at night, with instructions to 
 watch very carefully, lest the enemy should surprise us wh'le 
 it was dark. 
 
 " We could plainly see the Confederate works during the 
 day, and no man dare raise his head above the fortificat^'ons, 
 lest he be a target for the watchful sharpshooters. 
 
 " So on the 4th of June, 1864, Colonel Heath, of the looth 
 Indiana, concluded to give the Johnnies a little surprise. He 
 called on the Colonel of the 46th Ohio, and giving him the 
 cue, they soon had everything in readiness. • The 46th Ohio 
 being armed with the Spencer rifle (seven shooters), they 
 were ordered to load, and every man be ready to fire at the 
 sound of the bugle. The looth Indiana had orders to give the 
 * Yankee yell ' at the first blast of the bugle. Soon all was 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 57 
 
 in order, and the boys were eager for the work in hand. The 
 bugle sounded the 'forward,' and the cheers of the looth 
 Indiana followed. 
 
 "The rebs, hearing the bugle and the shouting of the boys, 
 concluded we were charging their lines, and sprang to their 
 feet to meet us, thus exposing themselves. Then the 46th 
 Ohio opened fire upon them with their Spencers, and it began 
 to tell. The Johnnies quickly turned and sought cover, en- 
 raged beyond expression, each cursing and swearing to the 
 full extent of his blasphemous vocabulary. They heaped all 
 sorts of abuse on us, and one fellow was particularly exas- 
 perated. As he was going back, full of disgust, he faced 
 about and yelled, at the top of his voice, ' Shoot away — you 
 can't hit anything. You think you're mighty smart, but it's 
 only another one of your darned Yankee nutmeg tricks.' A 
 round of Yankee applause was followed by a volley, but the 
 fellow got behind the works just in time to escape." 
 
 Major J. M. McCuiloch, of the 77th Illinois, then asked if 
 prison life in the South had been discussed at any previous 
 camp-fire. Unfortunately he had not been present at any of 
 the meetings, but would miss none of them hereafter. 
 
 " Since you have mentioned the matter, we will hear 
 from you first," said the commander. 
 
 " Well, I am hardly prepared to speak impromptu," said 
 the Major. 
 
 "Major McCuiloch!" "Prison life!" "Major McCui- 
 loch!" " Speech!" "Speech!" and other exclamations were 
 heard from the auditors. 
 
 " Well, if there is no escape, I will tell you of my expe- 
 rience, not in Andersonville, for I was not there ; but there 
 were other prison pens, and I served more than a year in one 
 in Texas, which may not be altogether uninteresting to talk 
 about. 
 
 <* About the ist of March, 1864, ^^ '^^^ ^V ^°* ^^ l^'^^ *^^ 
 
58 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 expedition up Red River in Louisiana, under the command of 
 General Banks. Tiie previous winter months had been occu- 
 pied in preparation for the expedition, and on the 8th of 
 March the best equipped and best clad army that I was with 
 during my term of service, commenced a forward movement 
 from Brashear City, Louisiana, and marched directly through 
 to Alexandria without delay. This was also one of the best 
 conducted marches. Many of the boys had desired to go 
 with Sherman, but as they did not get their wishes, the trip 
 up Red River was made more pleasant than usual. The 
 column was in motion early in the morning, and went into 
 camp early in the evening. No promiscuous foraging was 
 indulged, but everything necessary was amply provided by 
 detailed foraging parties, so that there was no necessity for 
 the weary soldier to spend part of the night in getting some- 
 thing fresh to eat. 
 
 "We reached Alexandria on the 26th of March, and 
 joined the main column of the expedition conducted by Gen» 
 eral Franklin. One week later we reached Natchitoches 
 (pronounced Nakitosh by the natives), where General Banks 
 took command in person. On the morning of the 6th of 
 April the column was again in motion toward Shreveport, 
 the advance meeting with considerable opposition from the 
 enemy. Our regiment was ordered to the front as skirmish- 
 ers on the 8th, and about 3 o'clock p. m., after repeated 
 skirmishes with the enemy (in one of which our Lieut.-Col- 
 onel L. R. Webb was killed), we found them strongly posted 
 to resist our further progress. A line of battle was formed by 
 the advance troops, consisting of the 2d division of the 13th 
 Army Corps and a few regiments of cavalry. 
 
 "General Ransom, who commanded this section of the 
 13th Army Corps, seeing the dangerous situation of the 
 advance, asked permission to withdraw some distance to get a 
 nctter position, but was ordered to hold his ground. The 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 59 
 
 other division of our corps was three miles in the rear, and 
 the 19th Corps, consisting of about ten thousand, was about 
 eight miles, and a force of ten thousand under Gen. A. J. 
 Smith, fully a day's march in the rear of that. Why we 
 were thus scattered I never heard explained. The rebels, 
 under Gen. Dick Taylor, to the number of fifteen or twenty 
 thousand, seeing we would advance no further, and know- 
 ing our scattered condition, commenced an attack upon us, 
 and brought on a terrific engagement, afterward called the 
 battle of Sabine Cross Roads, by our army, but Mansfield by 
 the Confederates. 
 
 " The center of our line held their ground manfully and 
 did terrible execution in the ranks of the advancing foe, re- 
 pelling three separate attacks; but the rebel line, being so 
 much longer than ours, pressed the wings of our line back, 
 and, before the center was aware of it, a line of rebels was 
 formed in their rear. Being nearly out of ammunition, they 
 submitted to the inevitable, and surrendered. This surrender 
 included the 48th Ohio, the 19th Kentucky, and two com- 
 panies from the right of our regiment, the 77th Illinois. 
 
 " The retreating wings met the 3d division a short distance 
 in the rear, and with them formed another line, but the same 
 fate befel it. The 19th Corps being six or seven miles still 
 further in the rear, the rebels met no further opposition until 
 they encountered this corps well-formed in line of battle, be- 
 hind which our retreating fragments found shelter. Flushed 
 with victory the rebels rushed upon this new line of battle, 
 but were repulsed with great slaughter, and retired. Dark- 
 ness closed the scene. 
 
 " Having escaped from the first line of battle, I formed 
 with the second, and was there made a prisoner of war. I 
 had often before felt, when entering a battle, that I might be 
 killed or wounded, but I had never once thought of being 
 captured. You can therefore imagine my consternation. 
 
DO C'AMF-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " The utter route of our army and the general demorali' 
 zation which surrounded me, made me feel for the moment 
 as if the whole United States had collapsed. I soon met Cap- 
 tain White, of the Chicago Mercantile Battery, who had been 
 acting as chief of artillery on the division commander's staff, 
 and said to him in a low tone: 
 
 " ' Captain, doesn't this beat anything you ever saw? ' 
 
 " 'Oh, no! ' he replied, 'it's nothing to Shiloh! ' 
 
 " He had been a lieutenant in Taylor's battery at tha. 
 battle. 
 
 " I then took courage and congratulated myself on the 
 tht)ught that it was probably not so bad after all, and that 
 while many of my comrades had ' bitten the dust,' I still had 
 my life. But as I had never thought of being taken a pris- 
 oner, nor of a prisoner's condition, a new, and what proved to 
 be a fearful experience, now began to open up to me. I was 
 taken with others to Mansfield, three miles distant, where we 
 arrived after dark, and were confined in the court house all 
 night. Those who had been captured earlier in the day were 
 guarded in an open field about a mile from town. 
 
 " During the night we saw sad evidence of the havoc we 
 had created in the battle. It was told us that a Louisiana 
 regiment of about 1,200, made up from that vicinity, had 
 been cut to pieces; and the ambulances seemed to confirm 
 the report, as a continual stream of dead and wounded came 
 in during the whole of the night. Great lamentation was 
 manifested. It was impossible for us to sleep, as there was 
 scarcely more than standing room in the building. In the 
 morning we were marched out of the town toward Shreve- 
 port, and when a mile out our comrades, who had spent the 
 night in the field, joined us and made a delegation of eleven 
 hundred. We marched three abreast, with a row of mounted 
 guards on each side, and a squad in front and rear. 
 
 " After marching about sixteen miles we camped for the 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 6l 
 
 night; and for the first time since our capture rations were 
 issued to us — -consisting of corn meal and salt beef. Having 
 no cooking utensils of any description, it was more than Yan- 
 kee ingenuity could do to prepare much for eating; but we 
 managed after this fashion: The meal was mixed on a rub- 
 ber blanket, with water and a little salt from the beef barrel, 
 and then spread on a piece of board and held to the fire to 
 bake. The salt beef was cut in pieces and stuck on the end 
 of a sharpened stick, then held in the blaze, and thus, during 
 the night, we managed to partially stop the gnawings of 
 hunger. After the second night, the guard arranged to do 
 their cooking by detail during the day, giving us their utensils 
 at night; and by cooking in turns all night, we managed to 
 get our new fare into better shape. 
 
 "Adverse news from the front during the first night caused 
 our course to be changed the next morning toward Marshall, 
 Texas, and on the fifth day after leaving Mansfield we passed 
 through that town, which is a place of considerable size near 
 the Louisiana line; thence directly west from Shreveport. The 
 inhabitants of the town and vicinity had been informed that 
 Gen. Banks' entire army had been captured and was coming. 
 So the streets were lined with men, women, and children of 
 the various shades of color from black to white, to see the 
 Yankees. We were ordered to march two abreast, in order 
 to make a longer column and a more impressive appearance. 
 When about the center of the town we struck up our national 
 war-song, ' The Union Forever,' and sung: 
 
 " ' We are coming from the East and we're coming from the West, 
 Shouting the battle cry of Freedom! 
 And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, 
 Shouting the battle cry of Freedom ! 
 
 "'The Union forever! Hurrah, bojs, hurrah! 
 Down with the traitors and up with the stars, 
 While we'll rally round the flag, boys, rally once again. 
 Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.' 
 
62 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " While we were singing, some of the women tried to per- 
 suade the commander of the guard to stop us, but he seemed 
 to think it was our privilege, and paid no attention to their 
 solicitations. In fact, the guard, who already had heard much 
 of our singing, seemed to enjoy it, much to the chagrin of the 
 siDCctators. We tried to make the best of our circumstances, 
 and often sang by the way. On several occasions we passed 
 by camps of negroes whose masters were taking them to the 
 interior of Texas, in order to keep them out of reach of our 
 army. On such occasions our boys would sing: 
 
 " ' Ole massa run, ha! ha! 
 
 De darkies stay, ho ! ho ! 
 It must be now dat de kingdom's comin' 
 
 And de year of Jubilo.' 
 
 " We arrived in the vicinity of the prisoners' camp on the 
 15th of April, having marched about 125 miles in seven days. 
 The camp was situated about three miles east of Tyler, in 
 Smith county, Texas, and called Camp Ford. It was in- 
 closed by a stockade made of heavy timbers split in halves 
 and firmly set in the ground on end. Originally it contained 
 only three acres, but had been enlarged recently to about 
 seven, in order to accommodate the new arrival. We re- 
 mained where we camped for the night, until the afternoon 
 of the next day, when we were moved inside the stockade. 
 We had not expected a paradise, but we felt that after such 
 accommodations as we had on the march — no shelter or 
 blankets, except such as we bought or traded for — it would be 
 a relief to get some place in which to lie down in shelter at 
 night. Imagine our surprise when we came in sight of the 
 camp. Inside the pen there were a few log-cabins and dug- 
 outs, crowded together promiscuously in one corner. On the 
 tops of these, and on the highest points, were gathered a 
 motley crew of about six hundred, in very ragged clothing, to 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 63 
 
 get a glimpse of the new-comers, about whom big tales had 
 been told them. The remainder of the inclosure was a newly 
 cleared piece of woodland, with nothing on it but stumps, a 
 few brush heaps, and some old logs. Our hearts almost sank 
 within us. But into the stockade we went, and on the unoc- 
 cupied part were drawn up in parallel lines about twenty feet 
 apart. Here we were counted and delivered to the com- 
 mandant of the prison, one Colonel Allen, who addressed us 
 in a few words, telling what he expected us to do, and 
 closing with: 'Now, gentlemen, these are your quarters — 
 make yourselves as comfortable as possible.' With nothing 
 but the blue heavens for a covering and the naked earth for a 
 bed, and nothing within reach but a few brush heaps, to be 
 told to make ourselves comfortable, we thought was decid- 
 edly cool, 
 
 " The old prisoners gathered around us, anxious to hear the 
 news from the outside world, and the remainder of the even- 
 ing was spent in chatting and partaking of what the older in- 
 habitants could spare from their scanty fare. The officers of 
 our party were taken into the cabins of the officers already 
 there, who shared with us their limited quarters; but the 
 privates could only set fire to some of the brush heaps and 
 logs, and huddle around them as best they could for the 
 night. Many following nights were passed in the same 
 way before shelter of any kind could be had. The offi- 
 cers were first permitted to go out to the woods under guard, 
 and cut and carry in timbers to build themselves quarters, 
 which was accomplished in a few days. Then the men 
 were allowed to go out in small parties, but the process was 
 so slow that the best that could be done was to get poles and 
 brush with leaves to make arbors for shelter from the sun by 
 day and the dews by night. Some of the more energetic and 
 persistent ones succeeded in getting a clapboard roof, but a 
 great many spent most of the summer with nothing but brush 
 
64 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 roofs. Some made dug-outs, and covered with earth a place 
 just large enough for two or three to sleep in. As winter ap- 
 proached we were allowed to go out In greater numbers, 
 under a strong guard, and carry timbers for more than half a 
 mile. By Christmas most of the inmates had pretty fair 
 quarters, and the camp assumed a better appearance. 
 
 " Our rations were delivered in bulk to persons designated 
 by ourselves to receive and distribute them, and consisted of 
 corn meal, fresh beef and salt. A pint of corn meal and a 
 pound of beef was our daily allowance per man, with suf- 
 ficient salt to season them. Occasionally during the earlier 
 part of our stay, rye was issued for coffee. Twice the corn 
 meal failed for several days at a time, and whole corn shelled 
 was issued instead. Some amusement was created during its 
 delivery. When the wagon would make its appearance, the 
 boys would start from different parts of the camp toward the 
 delivery place, calling " Whoo-e-e! Whoo-e-e!" as though 
 calling hogs to their feed. The corn, however, answered a 
 good purpose, as it was a change, the boys making it into 
 hominy. Our beef during the summer was passable^ but late 
 in the fall it got so poor that it scarcely tasted like beef. A 
 detail of our men butchered the beeves and quartered them, 
 then the rebel guard picked out the best of the hind quarters, 
 and the remainder was brought into the stockade. When 
 the beef got so poor the guard complained to their officer, 
 but no attention was paid to them. Finally, one day after 
 drawing their portion, they carried it in procession to the 
 woods, dug a hole, put it in, fired three rounds of musketry 
 over it, then buried it. After that they got bacon, and in 
 two weeks afterward bacon was issued to us regularly, a 
 quarter of a pound being the allowance per man for a day, 
 and we were rejoiced at tlie change. 
 
 " No clothing was issued to us by the Confederate authori- 
 ties during our imprisonment, except a few very coarse hats 
 
^G CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 and shoes. I saw men go for months without a shirt to the! • 
 back, and no covering but a pair of ragged pants or drawen . 
 Lieut.-Colonel Leake, of Iowa, with about four hundred men, 
 had spent the previous winter in the stockade, and were for- 
 warded for exchange in July. When they arrived at vShreve- 
 port the authorities became ashamed of their naked appear- 
 ance, and offered to issue them clothing, but the brave Colo- 
 nel promptly refused the offer, saying: 
 
 " ' We will go into our lines in the same condition that we 
 have been prisoners.' 
 
 " When they arrived at New Orleans, those hardy and 
 brave Iowa soldiers marched down Canal street, and up St. 
 Charles, past the headquarters of General Canby, in almost a 
 nude condition. This exhibition of rebel barbarity, together 
 with the statements of the officers exchanged, stirred up our 
 authorities, and started negotiations with the rebel authorities, 
 which resulted in our receiving on the 2d day of October* 
 from our authorities at New Orleans, 1,500 complete suits of 
 United States clothing and 1,500 blankets. At the time the 
 clothing was received there were about 3,300 prisoners, and an 
 inventory of the camp, ordered by myself to ascertain the 
 destitution before the issue of the new clothing, showed but 
 1,500 blankets or parts of blankets in the stockade. The 
 issue of this clothing, and especially the blankets, was truly a 
 godsend to the camp, and gave it a very different appear- 
 ance. On the 25th of January another batch of clothing of 
 about 1,200 suits arrived from the same source, and this sup- 
 plied our wants fairly during the remainder of our imprison- 
 ment. From the first of our imprisonment, rumors of ex- 
 change were kept afloat, and hopes of getting free never 
 seemed more than a month or six weeks ahead. While thi^ 
 was probably done by the rebels to keep us from escaping, it 
 answered a good purpose in keeping us hopeful. Many, how 
 ever, grew restless, and made the attempt to exchange them- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 6j 
 
 selves. Plans of escape were numerous. The digging out 
 process was resorted to, but did not succeed, although one 
 hole was made for more than 150 feet, and had reached the 
 outside before discovery. Bribing the guard was done in 
 many instances, forged passes in others, and quite a number 
 were taken out in the dirt cart that removed tlie rubbish from 
 the camp. When this was found out, the boy who drove the 
 cart was suddenly relieved of his position, and each load 
 thereafter was probed with swords or bayonets. 
 
 " The greatest difficulty in escaping was after we were 
 outside. With three hundred miles between us and the near- 
 est point in our lines, every white man between eighteen and 
 sixty years a soldier, and packs of bloodhounds kept for the 
 purpose which could take a trail twenty-four hours old, it was 
 almost impossible to get through. Yet quite a number suc- 
 ceeded. But the majority were recaptured, brought back 
 and at first severely punished. Captain Reid, of a Missouri 
 regiment, was ordered to stand on the head of a barrel bare- 
 headed and barefooted in the hot sun eight hours a day for 
 two weeks. Some were tied up by the thumbs; others stood 
 on a stump cut with a right and leftscarf for two hours at a 
 time, with a guard standing by who had orders to shoot if a 
 foot was lifted. Those who tried it said it was exceedingly 
 severe. 
 
 " One of the hardest cases of failure I remember was that 
 of Major Bering and Lieutenant Srofe, of the 4Sth Ohio. They 
 had been out twenty-one days, and were within three days' 
 travel of our lines when recaptured. On their way back they 
 met the rest of their regiment going forward for exchange, 
 but were not permitted to go with i^;, and thus endured six 
 months more imprisonment for their effort to free themselves. 
 
 « The devices to while away time while prisoners* 
 were many and varied. Chess was the principal game, and 
 the demand for chessmen created quite a business for a former 
 
68 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 prisoner who had erected a turning lathe. The games of 
 checkers, cribbage and cards, were also prominent. Then we 
 had the gambler with his chuck-a-luck board and keno bank, 
 which relieved many a poor fellow of what little cash he had 
 brought with him. The banker was there to exchange 
 greenbacks for Confederate money or specie. At our en- 
 trance Confederate money was ten to one in greenbacks, and 
 gradually increased to twenty, thirty, forty and sixty, and for 
 some months before our imprisonment closed, it was entirely 
 defunct. Specie took its place in trade with the outside. Our 
 specie cost us on an average from eight to ten dollars in 
 greenbacks to one In gold or silver. I bought flour at the 
 rate of six dollars per hundred pounds in specie, when each 
 specie dollar cost us ten dollars in greenbacks. We also had 
 the baker who sold biscuits at twenty-five cents apiece, and 
 sweet potato pies for one dollar. The barber, the tailor, and 
 the shoemaker plied their avocations, and many of the prison- 
 ers manufactured combs, pipes, rings, and trinkets in abund- 
 ance from the horns of the slaughtered cattle. Violins and 
 banjos were made, the strings being taken from the sinews of 
 the beeves, so that, notwithstanding the solitude of the place, 
 we had music and dancing during the long winter evenings. 
 The religious element was also strongly manifested. A 
 Bible class was held every morning in good weather, and a 
 prayer meeting every evening. Public services were held on 
 the Sabbath, at first by captured chaplains, and after they 
 were released, by laymen. On two occasions the chaplain of 
 the guard preached to us, and was listened to attentively by 
 an audience of at least one thousand. He exhibited surprise 
 at the result, but I told him we were at least partially 
 civilized. 
 
 " Yet thieves and the lower classes of humanity were 
 there also, and human nature was exhibited in lower phases 
 than I ever saw it before. A few thieves, who were at one 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 69 
 
 time caught in the act, were punished by being dipped in the 
 sinks by the exasperated crowd. 
 
 " We had four different commandants while I was there. 
 First, Colonel Allen, a Kentuckian, who wore the uniform of 
 a United States officer of the line, when he wanted to appear 
 well. He said he could sometimes wish we would all find 
 Southern graves. The next was Colonel Sweet, who was at 
 one time a resident of Chicago. In conversation he told me 
 he did not want a Republican government —that it was noth- 
 ing but a 7nob^ and the will of the majority was the worst 
 tyrant on earth. The next was Colonel Brown, commander 
 of a regiment of what appeared to be F. F.'s, of Texas. He 
 had been in the Texan war, and a prisoner in Mexico; and 
 although he was one of the roughest men I ever met, he had 
 a heart in him, and did many things for our comfort, when 
 suggested to him. The last was Lieut.-Colonel Jamison, who 
 had been wounded in the army of Virginia, and was now 
 given command of a regiment of home guards. This man, 
 while one of the most bitter of rebels, was gentlemanly, and 
 used more leniency than any of his predecessors. 
 
 " When the spring opened the boys inaugurated a scheme 
 to get some fresh vegetables for summer use. Captain Watt of 
 the 1 30th Illinois, an old man, was granted the privilege of 
 taking out a few men on parole of honor to make a garden 
 in a field near by, and after fencing a lot was promised a mule 
 and plow. He failed to get the mule, but took out ten Yan- 
 kees and hitched them to the plow, and did good execution. 
 Before we left, he and others had the pleasure of eating some 
 vegetables of his own raising. And thus Colonel Jamison, 
 while he could do but little for us with the means under his 
 control, was disposed to let us do for ourselves many things 
 which benefited us. 
 
 " Our knowledge of the outside world came mainly 
 through the Houston ' Daily Telegraph,' which was sent to 
 
70 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Captain Crocker, a gunboat-man, by a friend; and also from 
 new prisoners. We received no mail from our line for about 
 five months, and after that probably once a month. The 
 Christian Commission sent us a box of books from New 
 Orleans at one time, which was greatly prized. 
 
 " Our prison was watered by a spring which rose in one 
 corner of the stockade, and was sufficient, most of the time, 
 for drinking and cleansing purposes, but in their dejected 
 condition many made poor use of it. The atmosphere of 
 the stockade during the late summer months became almost 
 unbearable, from a bad arrangement of our sinks; but a 
 new person being put in command of the inside about the 
 1st of October, made suggestions which the commandant 
 allowed him to carry out, and relieved us ever afterward. He 
 gave us a fine ball ground which was well occupied and 
 proved a blessing. 
 
 " We were guarded by a cordon of guards outside the 
 stockade, who had orders to shoot any prisoner who came 
 nearer than ten feet to the stockade. In a number of 
 cases men were shot who neither violated the rule, nor 
 showed any intention of doing so. The guards generally 
 were not hostile to us, and in very many cases friendly; but 
 there were sons of Belial among them who took advantage 
 of their position to immortalize themselves by killing a Yan- 
 kee; yet the officers gave us no relief. 
 
 " The mortality of prison life was varied, some regiments 
 and squads losing one-fourth, some one-third, and in one in- 
 stance one-half their number, while in others scarcely any died. 
 So that while the treatment was inhuman and will always be 
 a foul blot on the Confederate record, yet my observation 
 was that the disposition, character, and habits of the men had 
 a great deal to do with the mortality of prison life. The 
 greatest number in the prison at one time was about 4,700, 
 and that was reduced by various exchanges to 1,700 when the 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. ^I 
 
 camp was broken up. We left 282 dead on a hill opposite 
 the stockade, which was neatly fenced with post and rail by a 
 squad of our own men before we left. 
 
 " Thirteen months had passed since we entered the stock- 
 ade, and now the end approaches. News had been received of 
 the surrender of Lee and Johnston, and we knew the time 
 for our departure must be near. The paroling officer, whom 
 we were always glad to see, came with the news that we 
 were all to be sent home. I shall never forget my feelings 
 and emotions, as I reveled in them the whole of the follow- 
 ing night without any sleep. The next day we were paroled 
 for exchange, as a mere form on their part. We had the no- 
 toriety of being the last prisoners held by the defunct Confed- 
 eracy, and i^yoo of us are yet on parole for exchange. The 
 next night the militia who had been guarding us for several 
 months packed up their traps and left for their homes, leav- 
 ing us but a few regular soldiers, who did not pretend to 
 guard us further. On the 17th of May, 1865, we started on 
 the march for Shreveport, 120 miles distant, where we ar- 
 rived through considerable trial and suffering on the 2 2d. 
 Thence we took boats down Red River to its mouth, and on 
 the 27th glided safely into the father of waters, once more 
 under the protection of the old flag." 
 
 " The reason the troops were scattered so at Sabine Cross 
 Roads," said Mr. Arnold, of the 23d Wisconsin, " was this 
 fact: In the final arrangement after the endless reorganizing 
 that followed the Vicksburg campaign, the 13th and 19th 
 Army Corps were set off together. The boys of the 19th 
 had not seen quite such hard times as the 13th boys, and had 
 better clothes. Some of the soldiers from Illinois regiments 
 at this time were wretchedly clad, which condition, of course, 
 they themselves could not remedy. Thinking to show oflf a 
 little, a few of the 19th boys began to call their Illinois com- 
 rades rag-a-muffins, threadbare guerillas, etc. This wounded 
 
72 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAIl. 
 
 the pride of the Sucker State soldiers, who felt that such epi- 
 thets were unmerited, and they replied that if they had had 
 no clothes at all, they could out-fight the 19th Corps on the 
 stormiest day of the war. The remarks were soon current, 
 and the feeling spread among the respective corps, until the 
 whole was leavened. For a time it was thought that there 
 would be business right there and then; but the commanders 
 kept the corps camped separately until the ill-starred breeze 
 blew over, and thus saved a possible disgrace to both corps. 
 But this, I believe, was the reason that the 13th and 19th 
 Corps could not be kept within six or eight miles of each 
 other for awhile." 
 
 The above explanation was heard with considerable in- 
 r.-rest, and then the camp-fire adjourned. 
 
CAMP-FIRE VI. 
 
 -THE HORRORS 
 OF VALLEY FORGE REPEATED BULLETS AND ETI- 
 
 ILLIONS of readers of the records made by the So- 
 clety for the Preservation of UnpubHshed History 
 S^^ will fully understand at the first glance the exact and 
 practical significance of the compound word which introduces 
 this camp-fire ; but that it may be intelligible to the million- 
 and-first student of history, and that it may be one more fact 
 put on record for the benefit of unlearned posterity, the So- 
 ciety hereby gives to the world the subjoined etymological and 
 historical conclusion, obtained at great outlay of money and 
 sacrifice of health in the research, and great delay in the pro- 
 ceedings of the chats. 
 
 As has been communicated in the rhapsody just got rid 
 of, " slap-jacks " is a compound word. It is compound not 
 only in form, but in meaning; for the material which entered 
 into the preparation of " slap-jacks " consisted of almost any 
 powdered substance from brick-dust up to crushed saw-logs, 
 the series including wheat, oats, corn, horse-feed, " wood, hay, 
 stubble," and so forth. The word is also hybrid, being 
 wrenched from the literature of two separate and distinct 
 races of humanity; and a mongrel of the ages, as it is an off- 
 spring of two classical developments which were parted by 
 a period of two thousand years. This is believed to be the 
 history of the word, and the following is the etymology: 
 "Slap-jacks" is derived from the Greek BdAAw, hurl^ hit/ 
 
 73 
 
74 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVII^ WAR. 
 
 or, the Anglo-Saxon strike (see Webster's Unabridgfed Dic- 
 tionary, p. 1308, col. i), hence, Anglo-American sla-p^ and 
 from the German yohn^ hence the Anglo-American jack^ 
 which was in its primitive use, a proper noun, and traces of 
 that use still linger in the dialect of the marine corps of the 
 day; but from its symphony and the ease of its application 
 it came to have a variety of meanings. From this it will be 
 observed readily that "jacks" was just the word to com- 
 bine with "slap " in order to make " slap-jacks." 
 
 " Slap-jacks " was always used in the plural, owing to 
 a difficulty which arose in their manufacture. The pulver- 
 ized material, usually corn meal or flour, which was the prin- 
 cipal ingredient, was placed on a rubber blanket, or in any 
 convenient small cavity — sometimes the end of a hollow log 
 — and then (the other ingredient, water, was poured into it, 
 and a mush made. Salt was sometimes added, when the sol- 
 diers had it, but it was not necessary. A handful of this mush 
 was then suddenly put against the side of a board, and placed 
 near the camp-fire to brown, or at least to dry out. The 
 mush was called " jack " and the operation of placing it on 
 the board was called "slap;" but just as the consummation 
 was being devoutly carried out, some of the " jack " would 
 slip through the fingers of the slapper, fall to the ground, and 
 make ijiore than one " slap-jack." Again, after the mixture 
 was on the board near the fire, part of it would slip down the 
 tilted edge of the board, and become plural once more. So 
 that it was not possible to manufacture "slap-jacks " in the 
 singular, and the use of the word in that number became 
 obsolete. 
 
 It is hoped that, after the foregoing elaborate treatise on 
 the language of the army, the Society for the Preservation of 
 Unpublished History will not have to explain that " slap- 
 jacks " is the military word for pan-cakes. The following 
 incident, related by F. O. White, Company A, Cavalry, 36th 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. ^C 
 
 Illinois, may give the student some Idea of this article of 
 army diet: 
 
 « It was near Keatsville, Mo., just before the battle of 
 Pea Ridge. Many of our boys were expert bookkeepers, 
 and when they passed a country store, they usually took an 
 inventory of the stock on hand, though they were never very 
 careful whether they left anything in the store. 
 
 " We finally came to a store which had drugs on one side 
 and groceries on the other; so we made a good haul. We 
 got plenty of flour and other material for « slap-jacks,' includ- 
 ing some saleratus, as we thought; but to make sure of it, we 
 passed it to one of the boys who knew something about 
 chemistry, for him to analyze. He assured us that we were 
 right; so we felt a glow of satisfaction that we were to have 
 * slap-jacks ' that evening with saleratus in them. 
 
 " We went into camp and made up a large quantity of 
 them, but as they did not get very light, we thought that the 
 cook had put too much saleratus in; yet we would not allow 
 that to make any difference, as we had had no saleratus in our 
 ' slap-jacks ' for a long time, and could tolerate a goodly dose. 
 They were served up in good style, and the boys ate plenti- 
 fully of them. Soon, however, the boys began to leave camp, 
 one at a time; then they went by twos and threes, and finally 
 the camp was nearly deserted, almost the entire number 
 having been attacked with sudden illness. Alas! all who 
 had partaken of the delicious but traitorous * slap-jacks ' were 
 now compelled to play the part of artesian wells — the cakes 
 had begun to rise! In the morning the suspicious saleratus 
 was taken to a reliable chemist, who found that it was tartar 
 emeticP 
 
 This incident was followed by one from a soldier of Com- 
 pany C, 2ot:h Illinois: 
 
 " While on the march near Rolla, Mo., our rations ran 
 short, and Lieutenant Moore, of our company, picked up about 
 
76 CAMP-PIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 100 pounds of new buckwheat flour. He carried it more than 
 two miles, and meeting Lieutenant Hall, gave him an invita- 
 tion to call at headquarters for supper that evening, and they 
 would feast on buckwheat cakes. The army had gone into 
 camp, and Lieutenant Moore delivered the flour to the cook, 
 with instructions to make up a good supply of cakes, as he 
 expected Lieutenant Hall to sup with him. 
 
 " The cook proceeded to mix the cakes, applying the 
 necessary seasoning (all he had), and the supper was soon 
 ready. Lieutenant Hall arrived, and the cakes were brought 
 before the host and his guest. The guest was the first to par- 
 take of the delicacy, and after he had waited until the host 
 had tasted it, said : 
 
 "' Is this the buckwheat you carried two miles?" 
 
 " * Yes,' said Lieutenant Moore ; ' tastes rather queer, 
 doesn't it?' 
 
 " ' I am quite of your opinion,' replied Lieutenant Hall, 
 'as it is nothing in the world but plaster-of-Paris.' 
 
 " Lieutenant Moore declared that it was no joke, and this 
 assurance was made doubly sure by the cook, who just then 
 made his appearance and said: 
 
 "' Mars' Cap'n, thought dat risin' didn't take efFec' in 
 dat buckwheat jes right, ha! ha! ha!' Exit cook, right; 
 Lieutenants Hall and Moore, left." 
 
 This disclosure put the camp-fire attendants into a merry 
 mood, and the regular order of business was proceeded with, 
 Gen. Ira J. Bloomfield, of the 26th Illinois, speaking: 
 
 " After the battle of Chickamauga we came up the river 
 from Vicksburg to Memphis, and marched across the country 
 to Chattanooga just in time to take part in the battle of Mis- 
 sion Ridge, on the 25th day of November, 1863. The next 
 morning we pursued the Johnnies to Ringgold Gap, and then 
 turned up the Tennessee River to the relief of Burnside, who 
 was penned up in Knoxville by Longstreet. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 7^ 
 
 " We had left all our baggage-wagons and supplies be- 
 hind, and as we went up the Tennessee Valley we lived off 
 the country, having foraging parties out ahead of us to collect 
 provisions from the houses, and to grind the wheat and corn 
 in the numerous mills. Details of soldiers kept the mills run- 
 ninof all nio^ht. 
 
 " I never saw greater manifestations of loyalty in my life 
 than were shown by the people of East Tennessee. All the 
 able-bodied men were in the army, but the women and chil- 
 dren would stand at the roadside and say to us: 
 
 " ' Go to the house and take all we have. We have friends 
 where we can get more.' One woman, when she saw the 
 Union troops, shouted: 
 
 " ' Glory to God! I knew you would come! I have two 
 brothers in the Union army, and I wish I had forty more.' 
 
 "We lived well going up toward Knoxville, but when we 
 came back, a few weeks later, it was hard foraging. One 
 night at the Hiawassie we had nothing to give the men but 
 wheat bran that we had left in the mill there when we v^ent 
 up. Next morning, as we sat upon our horses and the men 
 filed out into the road to resume the march, Private Lemmon, 
 of Company D, a comical genius, who was always playing 
 some kind of a joke, cried out: ' Colonel! colonel! are you 
 going to issue us oats in the sheaf to-night?' 
 
 " Most of the time during our trip up the Tennessee River 
 that fall the weather was fine, and except when out of food, we 
 got along splendidly, but being so long without a change of 
 clothing, officers as well as men became infested with vermin, 
 so that when a halt was made every one must needs seize the 
 opportunity to relieve himself of such forbidding intruders. 
 
 " Many of the men suffered greatly for tobacco. One 
 night, near Marysville, I heard of a tobacco factory about six 
 miles off from our line of march. I sent a lieutenant and a 
 squad of men to bring in a supply, and the next day about 
 
75 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 to o'clock they overtook us with a wagon-load of * Silver 
 Heels' tobacco, which we distributed to the men. Many a 
 poor soldier was made happy that day, and the effects of the 
 tobacco could be seen in the livelier step on the march and in 
 the renewed joking and laughter. 
 
 " The weather remained fine until within two days' march 
 of Chattanooga, when it suddenly turned cold. The ground 
 froze, and ice formed on the streams and along the road. The 
 long march from Memphis to Chattanooga, and from there 
 up to Knoxville without supplies, had worn out the shoes of 
 the men so that when the cold set in many of them were bare- 
 footed, and had to make the last day's march in that condition 
 over the ice and frozen ground. Their feet were so lacerated 
 that we sent them from Chattanooga to Bridgeport, down the 
 Tennessee River, in an open scow. That was the day before 
 Christmas, and the suffering of those poor fellows with their 
 sore feet and the exposure to the cold winds in their open boat, 
 was sad indeed. Their feet became so inflamed and sore that 
 when they got back to Springfield, 111., Jan. 22, 1864, on vet- 
 eran furlough, many of them were unable to wear shoes, hav- 
 ing their feet bundled up in old rags. I never expected to 
 see the horrors of Valley Forge or anything akin to it, but 
 what I have related is only a faint picture of what those 
 poor soldiers suffered. 
 
 " While speaking about feet, I have been reminded of a 
 state of affairs that came about at the close of the war. In 
 the spring of 1865, ^^ ^^^ grand review at Washington, a 
 number of my men were without shoes, but then the weather 
 was warm, and it caused no suffering. The long march from 
 Savannah, Ga., up through the Carolinas, and thence, via 
 Richmond, to Washington, had worn out their shoes, and 
 when we stopped at Alexandria, Va., to refit, I could not 
 find with any of the quartermasters shoes large enough to fit 
 eight or ten of my men. They had not calculated on supply- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 79 
 
 ing our big Western boys, and had neither Nos. ii nor I3. 
 I told the men that tiiey need not take part in the grand re- 
 view. But they wanted to be tliere, and did actually march 
 down Pennsylvania Avenue barefooted, but with steady step, 
 l.ceping time to the music of the Union. 
 
 " To show you how tough and hard these men were after 
 their long marches, sieges, and battles, I must give you a little 
 incident that occurred near Mount Vernon. We had turned 
 aside there to visit the tomb of Washington. While march- 
 ing along one day near a small town called Dumfries, where 
 a bright little stream ran across the road to empty itself into 
 the Chesapeake Bay, we came to a narrow foot-bridge 
 which spanned it. Our usual marching order was in a column 
 of four front, but the bridge was so narrow that we had to 
 undouble, which caused some little delay in the march. While 
 sitting on my horse waiting for the crossing, I heard some 
 angry words, and turned just in time to see one man strike 
 another a terrible blow across the face with his musket, 
 tumbling the latter off the foot-bridge into the water below. 
 I rode back to see about caring for the injured man, but be- 
 fore I could reach him he picked up his knapsack and gun, 
 and took his place again in the ranks as if nothing had hap- 
 pened. The next morning when I went out to look after 
 him, the only signs left of the blow was a slight black spot 
 under each eye. Such a blow across the face of a civilian 
 would have laid him up for a month; but these men were 
 tough and hard, for they had been brought down to solid 
 fighting weight by long service in the open field." 
 
 General Bloomfield, who now depends on his legal skill 
 for his rations, then informed the hearers that he could not be 
 with them hereafter, as he was about to take command of a 
 relief expedition in a divorce suit; but, whether it was apropos 
 or not, he would relate one more incident to show that bullets in 
 war often become ungraceful and over-step the rules of etiquette. 
 
8o CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " A volley of musketry has very little respect," he said, 
 " for titles or rank in army society ; and it is generally true 
 that there are soldiers in both opposing armies who aim at 
 sashes and badges. 
 
 " On the morning of the battle of Mission Ridge, Col. 
 Timothy O'Meary, of the 90th Illinois, came into line of 
 battle wearing a blue flannel suit and a bright red sash 
 around his waist. Col. John Mason Loomis, the brigade 
 commander, warned him of the danger, saying: 
 
 " ' Colonel, we have to go down over that open field, and 
 the hill on the other side is full of sharpshooters. Your sash 
 will furnish a good mark for them! ' But the gallant colonel 
 only smiled and held up a picture of the Virgin Mary that he 
 always wore suspended by a cord around his neck, replying: 
 
 " ' They cannot hurt me while I have this.' A few min- 
 utes later he lay weltering in his blood, mortally wounded by 
 a rifle ball through his left side, just below the heart." 
 
 Doubtless this incident will remind the veterans of 186 1- 
 '65 of whole bookfuls of similar happenings. It reminded 
 Maj. M. B. Parmeter, of the 77th Illinois, of one, which 
 must be prefaced with an explanation: 
 
 There was a type of combatant in the North during the 
 war known as " copper-head," the more virulent class of 
 which were members of the " Knights of the Golden Circle;" 
 the milder developments were less haughty, and were some- 
 times known as " plain copper-heads." But it is to the good 
 feeling of all who stood by their country in the hour of her 
 need, the S. P. U. H. included, that this entire type of citi- 
 zens was limited, though the epithet was applied to many 
 without desert. 
 
 It must not be understood by the term " combatant" that 
 the main pillars of the K. of the G. C, with their adherents, 
 w^re soldiers; for they kept as far to the rear as possible. 
 They were combatants in everything except business at the 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 8l 
 
 front, and lacked the first principles of soldiership — patriotism 
 and moral courage. They combated the policy of war from 
 innate cowardice, more than from their love of peace; they 
 decried emancipation because their opponents upheld it; op- 
 posed the government because it was not under their own 
 direction. When the last call for troops was made, they 
 were in sore lament. Already there were nearly a mil- 
 lion soldiers in the field (and this was a thrust at all 
 soldiers) — every man who became a soldier, and was de- 
 tailed to forage, was no better than a thief, they said. Think 
 of it — a million thieves turned loose upon the unprotected 
 citizens of the countr}^! O tempora I O mores ! How homely 
 to these " unprotected citizens " was the beautiful picture of 
 the great concourse of a nation's children scattering to their 
 peaceful homes across broad prairies, over mountains and 
 through glens, to plow, preach, and pound anvils! 
 
 But there came a day when the clatter of their loose 
 tongues was hushed. No more did they stand behind a tree 
 and demand jDcace. For then it was that their great relative. 
 Uncle Sam, made a suggestion in the form of a draft that all 
 his able-bodied male relations over twenty-one years of age 
 and under forty-five, should come to his assistance at once. 
 But now was " the winter of their discontent." They dis- 
 claimed all kinship. They sought " British protection.'' 
 Their able bodies began to pedestrianize, and did not cease 
 that operation until they had found a home in Canada. Like 
 other fractions of humanity, when a relative is in affluence he 
 is very dear to them; but place him in durance vile, and they 
 seem like residents of Neptune. When the tills of the nation 
 are overflowing with the golden coin, each of the former "un- 
 protected citizens " is a noble foster of the " best government 
 God ever gave to man;" but let the Executive call for needed 
 service, and they deny their allegiance — vile treason sits on 
 manhood's throne! 
 6 
 
82 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 With the foregoing revery rehearsed, Major Parmeter's 
 remarks may be better appreciated: 
 
 " It was just before the capture of Vicksburg, and the 
 draft had just come into full blast. The majority of the 
 Peace Faction at the North had either become quiet or gone 
 on an expedition to Labrador, or in that direction. At any 
 rate, they were not very boisterous around their former neigh- 
 borhoods. Some of them went South, but not for the pur- 
 pose of joining the army. 
 
 ' Among the latter was a physician from my old home who 
 was apparently well read, but nevertheless was a mild cop- 
 per-head. It made him nervous to see so many of the boys 
 going off to the war, and he took it upon himself to act as a 
 sort of missionary for their return. He seemed especially in- 
 terested in a young fellow by the name of Buckingham, and 
 came to Vicksburg to persuade the young man with others to 
 return home. 
 
 " But no persuasion for Buckingham ; he was too enthusi- 
 astic. The doctor remained several days, and as he became 
 bolder and found more old acquaintances, he began to get 
 nearer to the front. One day he came out on skirmish line, 
 where several of the home boys were, and began his mission- 
 ary work, talking about the old times at home. Pretty soon 
 the Johnnies opened fire on us, and the skirmishers began to 
 seek shelter. Having had considerable experience in the busi- 
 ness, the boys were expert in getting behind the works, but 
 the doctor was left out. A spent ball just then grazed his 
 clothes, and, with a look of fright and surprise, he ran for the 
 works, exclaiming: 
 
 " ' Why, I didn't suppose they would shoot a citize7iP 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said one of the boys, ' shoot you as soon as 
 any other copper-head — bullets are no respecters of persons." 
 
 With the last two incidents to show that the etiquette of 
 bullets is yet unwritten, the camp-fire adjourned. 
 
CAMP-FIRE VII. 
 
 A BANQUET TO THE S. P. U. H. " S. 
 
 POSITION OF THE TERM, AND SOME REMINISCENCES FOR 
 ILLUSTRATION. 
 
 jRDER ! " said the commander, as the tattoo sounded, and 
 the bugle came to its rehef; but the bugle was hoarse, 
 and the noise which it made was akin to that of a 
 masculine cat in distress, in the little hours. The boys all 
 laughed, but the commander rapped on a log with his musket, 
 and the rattle of the bayonet commanded peace. 
 
 Then he said, " Comrades, I have been for sometime an- 
 ticipating a feast on the rare old dish of S. B., and hard-tack. 
 Let's build up the fire, satisfy our hunger, and give the S, P. 
 U. H. a banquet." 
 
 Accordingly, more sticks and tree-boughs were placed on 
 the fire, and the preparations proceeded. AV^hile the work was 
 going on, the Societv for the Preservation of Unpublished 
 History ascertained that " S. B." meant that particular part 
 of swine anatomy which, with the exception of the feet, is 
 nearest the earth. The civil name for it was " salt bacon;" 
 later changed to " breakfast-bacon," while the designation on 
 the social menu is " fat of pork." This abbreviation, how- 
 ever, was applied to more than one army delicacy. It some- 
 times signified "soaked beans," sometimes " salt beef;" but 
 more frequently was given to a very choice dish, made from 
 hard-tack which had been carried on a long march through 
 the rain, then soaked in river water during the night, with 
 several changes of the water, and fried for breakfast. 
 
 83 
 
84 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " Hard tack," the S. P. U. H. learned, was a kind of 
 bread, light in color, which could not be affected by age. In 
 size, shape and durability, it was similar to the sections of a 
 slate roof. 
 
 Meantime the Society for the Preservation of Unpublished 
 History sat by with great dignity, full of high satisfaction 
 that its members were soon to be banqueted and toasted. 
 When the coffee and eatables were ready, the veterans began 
 without ceremony, in the fashion a la if-I-don't-get-my-share 
 pretty-soon-somebody-else- will; and before the S. P. U. H. 
 could come to a clear understanding of the situation, and se- 
 cure the attention of the veterans, there was not enough left 
 for one meal for a ghost. When the food had all disap- 
 peared, the boys perceived that the S. P. U. H. had been 
 forgotten. Many apologies were offered, but no hard-tack 
 nor S. B. Sic vita militaris est. 
 
 Then the national air was sung: 
 
 (Tune — America.) 
 
 Mv rations are S. B., 
 Taken from porkers three 
 
 Thousand years old ; 
 And hard-tack cut and dried 
 Long before Noah died, — 
 From what wars left aside 
 
 Ne'er can be told. 
 
 There were originally three stanzas to this hymn, but after 
 it was sung, while being handed across the fire to the S. P. U. 
 H., two stanzas fell into the blaze and were consumed. The 
 society now has the ashes of the sacred paper in its museum. 
 
 Mr. George Justice, of ComjDany H, First Battery i8th 
 U. »S. Infantry, then remembered an experience which simul- 
 taneously illustrates three things : The craving of the boys for 
 fresh meat, the sincerity of Gen. Geo. H. Thomas, and the 
 able discipline he imposed. 
 
h6 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " I participated in one little experience which I have never 
 related, and have never heard told. When the 14th Army 
 Corps laid at Stephenson, Ala., in 1863, General Thomas issued 
 orders to the effect that he did not want any foraging; but 
 despite such orders from as good a man as ever commanded 
 a soldier, there were some who disobeyed them. We had 
 been without fresh pork for some time, and my partner, James 
 D. Killdow, and myself, concluded we would have some. So 
 one afternoon we started out; but we did not have to go very 
 far before we spied a porker that would weigh about 200 
 pounds, and we were not long in taking him. We withed 
 his legs together, run a pole through them, and started for 
 camp. By keeping the woods, we could slip in at the foot 
 of the company; but we had a road to cross, and there was 
 where the trouble commenced. As we came out into the 
 open space, who should gallop around the bend but General 
 Thomas and staff, — just as we were thinking about what a 
 nice mess we were going to have. He ordered us to halt, 
 and riding up to us, asked : 
 
 " ' Where do you men belong?' 
 
 "'To the i8th U. S. Infantry,' I said. 
 
 " ' Don't you know the order against foraging? ' 
 
 " There was no use denying it, so I replied that we did. 
 
 "'What did you kill that hog for?' 
 
 " 'We wanted some fresh pork,' I said. 
 
 " « Well, you will have to be disciplined for disobedience,' 
 and the general turned to one of his aids, and added: ' Bring 
 these men and that hog up to headquarters.' 
 
 " The aid ordered us to pick up the hog, which we did, and 
 wagged along with our load. To our surprise, we found a 
 ring made and a guard waiting for us, with orders to make us 
 carry the hog around that ring until further notice. Being 
 nothing but a boy at that time, the hog got very heavy for 
 me in a short time. I told the guard that I was too small 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 87 
 
 for that kind of work, but he told me not to lay that hog 
 down. I told him I must rest or die right there. 
 
 "'AH right, be brave and die at your post,' he replied, 
 with a laugh. 
 
 "When we had carried the hog around about an hour 
 an officer approached, and told us that General Thomas had 
 said we might have the hog, as he thought we had earned it, 
 and that we would not be guilty of such a trick again. Our 
 punishment was complete, but didn't we drop that hog in a 
 hurry? I tell you, rest never was so sweet. 
 
 " When we had rested sufficiently, we took up our burden, 
 and started for camp. We were heroes now, and instead 
 of slipping in the back way, we walked right down the front, 
 across the parade ground, between the line officers' tents and 
 the heads of the companies, past the head of our own com- 
 pany to our tent. The orderly sergeant appeared on the 
 scene at once, and ordered us to take the hog to the cook's 
 tent, and have it issued out. We had already killed it, but I 
 said ' No! ' Then the orderly ordered two soldiers to pick it 
 up and take it to the cook's tent. I told Killdow to watch 
 the hog until I could go up and see the captain. In a few 
 minutes I was at the captain's tent, and soon related the story 
 about General Thomas giving us the hog. The captain ap- 
 preciated the joke, laughed heartily, and said : 
 
 " ' Well, I guess the hog belongs to you.' 
 
 " I went back and told the orderly that the hog belonged 
 to Killdow and myself. He went up to see the captain, but 
 did not return; so we skinned the hog and issued it out to the 
 boys ourselves. But that was the last hog that poor Killdow 
 ever helped to kill, for he was taken prisoner at the battle of 
 Chickamauga, Sept. 30, 1863, and died in Andersonville 
 prison on the ist of September, 1864." 
 
 " That is not very much unlike one T recall, which occurred 
 just before we were going into Huntsville, Ala.," said Mr. J. 
 J. Marquett, of Company B, 37th Indiana. 
 
8S CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 *' It was reported that there were four Johnnies secreted 
 on a large plantation about two miles from the line of march, 
 and our lieutenant, eleven other men, and myself were de- 
 tailed to look after their welfare. 
 
 " We arrived about dark, deployed out, and came up on 
 all sides of the house, so that none of them could escape. 
 There were two or three at some of the doors, but I had a 
 door to myself. When we were ready we began to force our 
 way in. My door opened readily, and I stepped in. All 
 was dark. I began to feel almost like a burglar. About the 
 second step I took I ran against something, and putting my 
 hand out to explore, I ran it squarely into a rich dish of 
 corn meal pudding [known as * samp ' in the South] which 
 was steaming hot! Near it was a plate of hot biscuit, and 
 you may imagine that it didn't take me long to get those bis- 
 cuit into my knapsack. The family had been just ready to 
 eat, but had taken the light from the dining-room, so that the 
 soldiers would not discover the supper. I helped myself to a 
 few other things, and then, after exploring the room, left the 
 house. 
 
 " The other boys had been in the various rooms, but 
 found no Johnnies, except a lady and her daughter — the men 
 had all escaped to a small piece of woods. However, they 
 left two guns and a pistol, all loaded, but the ladies did not 
 try to use them. Near by was a nice spring-house, and when 
 the boys came together we went in and filled our canteens 
 with milk. Then we ate the biscuit and what other food I 
 got, and started back for the main line. One of the boys had 
 captured a ham, but we did not stop to cook that. 
 
 " It was some time before we overtook the marching col- 
 umn. About midnight we came to a small village with one 
 store, which had been partly sacked, and there were yet a 
 few soldiers hanging around the place. As we came up to 
 the store we discovered the cause of this, for just then one of 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 89 
 
 the boys came out of the cellar, reeling with drunkenness. 
 One or two of our boys began to investigate, and found 
 whiskey ankle deep all over the cellar floor. It seemed as if 
 every one who had gone into the cellar had pulled the cork 
 from a new barrel, drawn a canteen full, and let the liquor run. 
 From the odor that came from the cellar, and from the effect 
 the fluid had on the boys, It seemed to me that it must have 
 been forty-rod whiskey." 
 
 [The S. P. U. H. chemist, who had been retained on the 
 liberal privilege that he might have all the knowledge he 
 could gain from the several analyses, if he would defray his 
 own expenses, ascertained that " forty-rod whiskey " took its 
 name from the effect it produced upon those who smacked 
 their lips over it. After quaffing the zephyr-like ambrosia it 
 has the angelic faculty of making a fellow feel as if he were 
 forty rods from the place of his real existence. In short, he 
 is distant from his equilibrium, and usually makes a desperate 
 effort to restore himself.] 
 
 " When the boys caught up with the troops in the morn 
 ing, all who had any forage went in the back way (for tliej^ 
 had not been detailed to forage) except the fellow who had 
 captured the ham. I say ' captured,' because when the day 
 broke it was discovered that the ham possessed unmistakable 
 signs of life. Observing this the soldier concluded that he 
 had not carried that ham all night for nothing, and would yet 
 have some sport from it, if not food. So he took another 
 draught of * forty-rod ' from his canteen, run his bayonet 
 through the ham and started into camp past General Tur- 
 chin's headquarters, apparently more intoxicated than he 
 really was. 
 
 " ' Here ! ' demanded the general, ' where have you 
 been ? ' 
 
 " ' E — hie! — down the road a ways.' 
 
 " ' Who gave you permission to go foragin'.^* ' 
 
go CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "'Didn't — hie! — have any; didn't think we — hie! — think 
 we needed any, just to steal one ham.' 
 
 " ' Come up here, you drunken vagrant.' 
 
 "' Allrigh', general; you ean have the ham — s'pose that's 
 what you want; take it right along — eomplimentr of ycur 
 dearly be — hie! — loved.' 
 
 " The general looked at the ham, and at onee saw its true 
 eondition, whereupon he laughed: 
 
 "' Sold again; — have a eigar. You ean have the nam— 
 take it away, but look out that it don't bite ! ' " 
 
 " Three cheers for S. B.," said the eommander of the 
 camp-fire, and the vicinity echoed three hearty hurrahs. 
 
 " That is like one I know, wherein the S. B. came off vic- 
 torious," said Mr. Henry A. Keve, of the yth Illinois: 
 
 " In the spring of 1862, our division (Dodge's) was sent 
 out from Corinth, Miss., on an expedition into the Tuscumbia 
 Valley in Alabama. On the 28th of April we were de- 
 ployed as skirmishers at Town Creek, to watch for the 
 approach of rebel cavalry under Roddy. The cavalry not 
 making its appearance, the boys began to look about for means 
 to pass the time away. A few stretched themselves upon the 
 grass in the warm sunlight, and were soon fast asleep. 
 Among the sleepers was Private Theodore, of Company K. 
 
 " Theodore was one of those wise fellows, whose experi- 
 ence in the regular army and in Mexico had furnished him 
 with a wonderful stock of wearying tales and pointless jokes. 
 He was personally acquainted with Generals Scott, Taylor, 
 Wool, Twiggs, Jeff". Davis, and Robert E. Lee; was always 
 ready with a solution of all difficult questions in military strat- 
 egy, politics, philosophy or religion — in short, was a walking 
 emporium of wisdom, and contrived to make himself gen- 
 erally unpopular. 
 
 " Not far from the sleeping Solomon was an old hog 
 with a young family. The hog was very lean, which ac- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 9I 
 
 counts for her being able to perform her part in the following 
 comedy. 
 
 " But Private Brown was not asleep; on the contrary he was 
 wide awake and looking about for some harmless amusement. 
 He saw the old hog, and he saw *"he slumbering Theodore. 
 Brown was an Illinois farmer and knew all about hogs and 
 their habits; and his fertile brain soon developed the following 
 scheme to bring Theodore back to consciousness: 
 
 " He stole softly toward the bed of swine, grabbed a pig 
 and started for the unconscious Theodore, the pig squealing 
 and the old hog following on a run. Dropping the pig by 
 the side of Theodore he stepped aside to view the result. On 
 came the savage and terrified beast, and with a booh-hooh 
 hooh! she pounced upon the unguarded sleeper. The scene 
 that followed was exhilarating in the extreme — the old hog 
 boohing-hoohing and shaking, and poor Theodore, thinking 
 in his half-awake condition that the enemy was upon him, 
 struggling and shouting: 
 
 " 'I surrender! I surrenti^r!' He finally made his escape 
 by leaving part of his clothing in the hog's possession; but 
 with all his ability as a solver of knotty problems, Theodore 
 could never ^magine what made that old hog so mad at him." 
 
CAMP-FIRE VIII. 
 
 LIBBY PRISON — THE "HORNED YANKEE" ANDERSONVILLE, 
 
 WHOSE SURNAME IS DEATH A MODERN MIRACLE THE 
 
 ALTAR OF KLEPTOMANIA RECEIVES A SACRIFICE OF 
 SEVEN. 
 
 tT the close of the last camp-fire, Mr. W. Frank Bailey, 
 of the 6th Pennsylvania Reserves, who was known to 
 Ts^^s:^ have been wounded when he entered Andersonville, 
 and to have had a rough experience, was requested to give 
 what reminiscences he could of prison life, at the next camp- 
 fire. When the usual preliminaries were gone through with, 
 Mr. Bailey said he had thought some of Andersonville since 
 his fourteenth months' visit there, and did not believe that 
 any one who had spent any length of time in that village 
 would ever forget vSouthern hospitality. 
 
 He then continued: 
 
 " Among the many incidents and exciting scenes of four 
 years passed in active service, none have left a more vivid im- 
 pression than my experience as a prisoner. You all remember, 
 comrades, that during the year or more previous to the close 
 of the war, the position of a soldier, either as a private or 
 commissioned officer, was one of doubtful honor; and I only 
 refer to this in order that due credit may be given to the 
 heroic sufferers of whom I am about to speak. When the 
 signs upon the horizon of our beloved Republic indicated her 
 dismemberment, men thought not of toil, danger and priva- 
 tion; but sprang to her rescue with one consent, cheerfully 
 giving all that life could afford as their individual offering 
 
 92 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 93 
 
 upon a common altar as the price of her salvation. The best 
 and noblest of the land, the pride of homes, the first-born of 
 families, the beloved of households, stepped into line, actuated 
 only by motives of the purest patriotism. As time rolled on 
 and our people became more acquainted with the privations 
 and calamities incident to a protracted struggle, patriotism 
 declined, and mercenary inducements were held out, which 
 drew from the ranks of the people many who were not solely 
 inspired by a love of country or pride in her honor; hence the 
 position of the soldier was rendered more or less humiliating 
 to those who enlisted at the outbreak, and served to the close 
 of the war. 
 
 " But the record of the sufferings of the true soldier is 
 eternal. The story of rebel prison pens is one which every 
 true lover of our country might well wish were never written, 
 and yet I make no apology for discussing it, for It is a part 
 of human history — half written upon earth because hu- 
 manity has no language to express, or pen to paint its horrors. 
 Like som.e hideous nightmare transporting the imagination to 
 the abode of the damned, do the recollections of this period of 
 my life pass in review. Although nearly twenty years spent 
 in peaceful civil life, have elapsed since the date of the events 
 I am about to relate, I can only look back upon them to-day 
 as a long, dark night of lingering horror — a fierce protracted 
 struggle with a bitter, relentless, though unseen enemy, un- 
 marked in its intensity by the roar of cannon or rattle of 
 musketry, but in the slow, sure wasting away of mind and 
 body; as though one were cast into a deep, dark pit, sur- 
 rounded by dead and dying victims, whose emaciated bodies, 
 despairing countenances, decaying forms and grinning skele- 
 tons marked the progress of death's victory. Aa has been re- 
 peatedly expressed by the survivors of some of these prisons, 
 ' Words are totally inadequate to the task of a description of 
 their horrors.' Without attempting the impossibility of con- 
 
94 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 veying to the mind of the hearer a full comprehension of the 
 unhappy situation of Union prisoners confined in these living 
 hells, I will endeavor to give a simple narrative of what I, in 
 common with others, saw and experienced. It may be 
 deemed impossible for one who was a sufferer to give a faith- 
 ful account of a portion of the proceedings which form a 
 black page in the history of our country. I can say with all 
 sincerity that I have no other than the kindest feelings to- 
 ward those who were our contestants on many a hard-fought 
 field, and if there be any stigma attached for barbarities to 
 Union prisoners it must not fall upon those who crossed 
 swords with us in the front; men who daily tested each other's 
 fidelity, bravery and courage, learned to respect such enemies 
 too well to be guilty of a breach of humanity toward their 
 fellow-men. 
 
 " In connection with the circumstances which led to our 
 capture, it may not be out of place to say that the Pennsylva- 
 nia Reserves, to which division I belonged, claimed that their 
 time had expired. The company with which I went out 
 enlisted on the 22d day of April, 1861, but the division was 
 not sworn into the United States service until July 27, of the 
 same year. We claimed the right to count our term of service 
 from the date of our enlistment; the government claiming 
 from the date on which we were sworn in, a difference of 
 three months. This was compromised by promising our 
 muster out on the 30th of May, 1864. I merely mention this 
 to show the fidelity of old soldiers, inasmuch as the date of 
 the capture of a large number of us occurred on that after- 
 noon, within a few hours of the time agreed upon for our 
 final discharge. And you will pardon my digression in say- 
 ing that the grand old division, composed entirely of Penn- 
 sylvanians, after serving more than a month over time, and 
 that period spent in almost daily battle, in the front ranks of 
 the Army of the Potomac, was finally relieved at midnight, 
 
cAmp-fire chats of the civil war. 95 
 
 while upon the picket line, on the field where they had 
 fought for several hours previous. 
 
 " After the ten days' Battle of the Wilderness, second 
 battle of Spottsylvania Court House, North Anna River, 
 and the series of engagements ending in flank movements, 
 which occurred in the spring of 1864, we were brought to a 
 point about two miles from Bethesda Church, situated on the 
 Mechanicsville plank road, distant about nine miles from 
 Richmond. On the 30th day of May, 1864, the regiment to 
 which I belonged (the 6th Pennsylvania Reserves), in con- 
 nection with the original Bucktail Regiment, numbering in 
 all about 700 men, were deployed as skirmishers in the 
 woods in which we lay, with orders to move to the road 
 mentioned, and hold it. The Confederate pickets were soon 
 encountered, who fell back as we advanced. After driving 
 them from the woods, we came to an open clearing about half 
 a mile across to another woods. This we crossed on the 
 double-quick, two companies on the left of our line crossing 
 the road which was our objective point, and nearly a mile in 
 advance of our regular line of battle. We were ordered to 
 halt and entrench, which we immediately proceeded to do by 
 tearing dov/n the rail fences from both sides of the road, and 
 piling up the rails preparatory to ccwering them with earth. 
 At this moment we were joined on the left by one of the 
 heavy artillery regiments, fresh from the fortifications about 
 Washington, and utterly ignorant of infantry duty in the 
 field. In the short interval the rebel skirmishers had fallen 
 back lo a point where their spent balls just reached us, leav- 
 ing us under the impression that we were masters of the 
 situation. But soldiers, like other people, are often the victims 
 of misplaced confidence. We were totally ignorant of the 
 fact that General Swell's Confederate corps of about fifteen 
 hundred fresh troops were lying concealed in the woods ** ^ew 
 rods ahead of us, and had been busily occupying the tinic xU 
 
g6 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 surrounding our flanks, which being completed, they sud> 
 denly emerged from the woods in front of us, in a heavy line 
 of battle, pouring in a volley upon us at a distance of less 
 than ten rods. Surprised, and almost entirely surrounded by 
 a force of ten to one, a large number were killed and wounded, 
 and over three hundred captured, among whom was myself, 
 wounded in the foot and leg. Previous to this time, Libby 
 prison, Belle Isle, and Castle Thunder had already established 
 reputations throughout the North for unwarranted and cruel 
 treatment of their prisoners. The prison pen at Anderson- 
 ville was yet in its infancy, and its world-wide fame was then 
 confined within its silent walls. The pens at Florence and 
 Cahawba were not established, but enough was known to 
 inspire one with dread at the thought of falling into the ene- 
 my's hands. In fact, the idea of being taken prisoner had 
 entirely escaped my notice until this moment. All the reports 
 current in relation to rebel prison pens, which I had hereto- 
 fore given but a passing thought, became unusually vivid. I 
 endeavored to console myself with the reflection that I should 
 see Richmond, which for three years we had so much desired 
 to possess, — and probably much of the enemy's country. The 
 first attraction I possessed in the eyes of my captors was an 
 old silver watch. The colonel of the 43d North Carolina 
 wanted just such a watch, and gave me all the scrip he had, 
 $75 Confederate money, in exchange for it. Nothing but 
 our swords, fire-arms and ammunition were taken from us 
 by our captors. It being late in the afternoon, the able-bodied 
 prisoners were sent back to the Provost Mar&hal, while the 
 wounded were taken to about a mile in the rear of the rebel 
 line, and kept under guard all night. As my foot, which had 
 now swollen to double its ordinary size, and my leg gave me 
 considerable pain, I could not sleep-^ but sat by a camp-fire, 
 drawing consolation from the steady stream of ambulances 
 ?or*veying wounded to the rear, all night long. I knew our 
 
98 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 boys in blue had done their best to avenge us, and many a 
 traitor to his country had been sent to his long home. 
 
 " The following morning we were marched to the head- 
 quarters of the Provost Marshal, an interesting place in all 
 armies. In a large field, surrounded by guards, were grouped 
 Union prisoners, rebel deserters, spies, citizens who were for- 
 cibly impressed into the rebel service, many of whom ente^. 
 tained strong Union sentiments, and refused to take arms, 
 called conscripts, — a regular heterogeneous mixture of of 
 fenders. Here the first process of ' skinning ' was performed. 
 All equipments serviceable in the field, such as blankets* 
 haversacks, canteens, shelter tents, rubber blankets, etc., etc.. 
 were taken from us. 
 
 " On our way to the Provost Marshal's, I had an oppor- 
 tunity to learn for myself that some, at lejist, of the Southern 
 people believed that Yankees had horns. On account of my 
 disability, I was unable to keep pace with the other prisoners, 
 and a comrade was detailed to help me along, and a guard to 
 keep us company. Before reaching our destination, we made 
 a detour from the main road to a dwelling house, for the 
 purpose of getting a drink of water, and, if possible, procur- 
 ing something to eat. We secured a drink at the spring in 
 the rear of the house, and passing to the front, encountered 
 a middle-aged and two younger ladies sitting on the porch, 
 Our guard, who acted as spokesman, asked for something to 
 eat, telling them at the same time that we were Yanked 
 prisoners. One of the young ladies, in all sincerity, immedi- 
 ately asked the guard : 
 
 " ' Where are their horns?' 
 
 " Upon which we all commenced to laugh, when the 
 young lady innocently replied that she had been told that all 
 the Yankees had horns on their heads like cows. I hardly 
 need say that we got nothing to eat, and doubt if we wouldj 
 even if we had had horns. 
 
 7 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 99 
 
 «« During the afternoon we were placed in cars and taken 
 to Richmond, a distance of five miles from the Provost Mar- 
 shal's. It was the custom of the authorities, upon receiving 
 a number of Union prisoners to parade them through the 
 streets, to encourage the people, and buoy up the hopes of the 
 Confederates stationed about the capital. Our squad was ac- 
 cordingly marched from the depot to the War Department, 
 and thence to the well-known warehouse used in tunes of 
 peace by Libby & Co., whose sign was still suspended above 
 the door, and gave a name to this prison which will endure 
 for generations. It was with considerable difficulty that I 
 performed this part of the programme, but by the assistance 
 of a comrade I was enabled to walk through the city, fully 
 as much to my own satisfaction as that of the enemy. I was 
 struck with the appearance of both the city and the people as 
 compared with the cities of the North. A miserable scanti- 
 ness seemed to be almost universal. The shops and stores 
 were poorly stocked. Ragged and threadbare clothing cov- 
 ered the wretched specimens of humanity whom the strictly 
 enforced Conscription Act had left behind as home guards. 
 Disappointment at the results of the war was visible on every 
 countenance, and Intense hatred for the Yankees brought 
 forth loudly-expressed denunciations and epithets from the 
 citizens who lined the sidewalks. One could hardly help 
 realizing that the ashes of the angry Vesuvius outside the 
 fortifications were settling over the doomed city. It was 
 nearly dark when we reached the prison, and we were quar- 
 tered for the first night on the first floor of the warehouse. 
 
 " Early next morning the officer in charge, Maj. Richard 
 Turner, commonly known as Dick Turner, accompanied by 
 an armed squad and two clerks, entered the apartment. The 
 prisoners were ordered into Ime and a request politely made 
 that all who had any United States money in their possession 
 should come forward and give it up. (This was the first, 
 
lOO CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 last, and only politely expressed request or command ever ad- 
 dressed to us while prisoners.) They told us that all who 
 would thus voluntarily give up their money should have their 
 names recorded in a book, and when exchanged it would be 
 returned to them. Our boys displayed a great lack of faith in 
 the solvency of this bank for deposits only^ as but two or 
 three responded to the invitation. One of the clerks actually 
 performed the farce of recording their names and amounts. 
 The voluntary subscription to the fund being exhausted, and 
 a further display of humanity on the part of our captors being 
 superfluous, the rest of us were told that our money and val- 
 uables would be taken from us anyhow. 
 
 " The ' skinning ' process resorted to was sufficient to 
 satisfy any one that there was not much left in our possession. 
 Each prisoner was called up singly and ordered to strip, 
 which was done to the last stitch. Clothing was turned 
 wrong side out and thoroughly searched in the pockets and 
 between the linings, plugs of tobacco were cut open, daguer- 
 reotypes taken out of their cases, fingers were run through 
 the hair, the mouth ordered to be opened, arms raised, and 
 every imaginable means employed to thwart Yankee inge- 
 nuity in secreting valuables. Many of the old soldiers un- 
 derstand a disease known in the army as the ' green piles.' 
 The rebels had heard of it, and no prisoner was permitted to 
 pass without a careful examination on 'his point. Knives, 
 rings, paper, envelopes, extra clothing ot all kinds, was con- 
 fiscated, pictures of friends were torn up or stamped under 
 feet, for no other purpose than lest they might prove a com- 
 fort to the prisoners. In spite of the strict search 1 succeeded 
 in retaining a part of the money I had, together with a gold 
 locket containing a picture of my fiither and mothei*, which I 
 still have in my possession. My comparatively helpless con- 
 dition caused them to pay less attention to my movements 
 than they otherwise would, and while the 350 prisoners who 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. lOI 
 
 preceded me were being gone through with, I succeeded in 
 placing the things mentioned between the Hnings in the legs 
 of my boots, one of which I had been compelled to cut over 
 the instep in order to get it off my foot when first wounded. 
 The fact of my boots being cut proved fortunate, as I was 
 enabled to keep them also — -boots being a prize among the 
 rebels. 
 
 " When the process of searching was finished we were 
 taken up to the second floor, in a large room where were 
 confined a number of other prisoners. The windows of the 
 room were secured by iron bars, such as adorn prison cells. 
 The building was surrounded by sentinels, whose beats were 
 on the pavement below. No one was allowed to put his 
 head close enough to the bars to look down on the street, un- 
 der penalty of being shot. In the afternoon, this being the 
 third day after our capture, we drew our first rations from the 
 Confederacy, consisting of four or five ounces of corn bread. 
 two spoonfuls of cooked rice, and two ounces of boiled bacon. 
 This, once a day, constituted our rations while in Libby 
 prison. What it lacked in quantity was made up in strength, 
 the rice bugs and old bacon being abundantly able to satisfy 
 our appetites and sustain our bodily wants. 
 
 " Here many of us for the first time contracted an inti- 
 mate acquaintance with the prisoners' closest companion. 
 When in after days hope grew faint and we seemed left 
 to our fate, deserted by the country we loved, our little 
 friend stuck to us closer than a brother. In sickness or health, 
 rain or shine, through evil report or good report, he never de- 
 serted us. Twice each day he helped us by his presence to 
 while away a portion of the long dreary hours, and we even 
 took oflf our clothing to catch sight of him. I refer to the 
 festive louse. 
 
 " We remained in Libby prison only ten days, it not being 
 deemed safe by the authorities to accumulate too many 
 
I02 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 prisoners in Richmontl at one time, as fighting was in prog- 
 ress outside the city continually, and fresh batches were being 
 brought in every few days. Our lot at that time seemed very 
 hard to us, fully confirming all the reports we had heard, but 
 future experience proved that this was a paradise compared 
 with what was to follow. It was positively asserted by the 
 older prisoners that Libby prison was at that time mined, and 
 it was the intention of the rebels, if the Northern army was 
 successful in penetrating the lines around Richmond, to blow 
 up the building and destroy the contents. This information 
 was obtained from the negroes, who were sent in every morn- 
 ing to sweep the floor of our room. These negroes were in- 
 clined to be very friendly to us, and many a loaf of bread was 
 smuggled into the prisoners' room ; but the greatest caution 
 was needed, as the slightest attention shown us would have 
 subjected them to the severest punishment, if detected. 
 
 " Prices of everything in the rebel capital were enormous. 
 A uniform of gray for a Confederate officer cost $1,200; a 
 good pair of boots, $900. Salt was scarce at any price. A 
 loaf of bread but little larger than a baker's bun sold for 
 $3.00. One greenback dollar was rated equal to six of Con- 
 federate scrip. Their reason for this was that the United 
 States money would be good whatever the result of the war, 
 while theirs would be valuable only in case of success, which 
 many of them doubted, even at that time. They displayed 
 great desire to get possession of all the greenbacks they could, 
 notwithstanding the stringent laws in vogue against a dis- 
 crimination in favor of United States money. 
 
 " In a few days we were told that we would be taken to 
 a military camp which had lately been established at Ander- 
 sonville, Ga., for the benefit of prisoners, and that our condi- 
 tion would be much improved. The camp at Andersonville 
 was painted in glowing colors, and the advantages so well 
 represented, that we were eager for the change. They told 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. IO3 
 
 US it was beautifully situated in a meadow, cleared out from 
 the woods, where we could be sheltered by the trees from the 
 sun ; also that a fine stream of water ran through it, in which 
 we could fish and swim — in fact, that we could spend our time 
 in any way to suit ourselves, as very much more freedom 
 would be allowed us than could be permitted at Richmond. 
 
 "Accordingly, on the 9th of June, we were aroused at 
 early dawn, marched to the depot, and placed on cars des- 
 tined for Andersonville. The cars were of the most miser- 
 able description, for freight and cattle, some of them being 
 open, such as we use on our construction trains, without seats. 
 We were packed in so close that we could neither sit nor 
 stand with any comfort. We slept somewhat after the style 
 of sardines in a box, though not quite so sound. As we were 
 carted along at the convenience of the various roads over 
 which we passed, our trip consumed eight days. During 
 this period we drew rations only four times, very small ra- 
 tions for a day each time. Once we were fed dry corn on 
 the cob, which, though unpalatable, we were glad to get. 
 Want of water added very much to our discomfort At Dan- 
 ville, Va., I paid fifty cents for a pint of water, and at a station 
 in North Carolina I procured half a pound of corn bread and 
 three-quarters of a pound of bacon for the modest sum of $5^ 
 Another serious loss befell me on the second day of our trip, 
 which added one more cause of destitution. I was trying to 
 sleep, by way of passing away time on the uncomfoilable cars, 
 but was aroused by some unusual movements about my head, 
 and raised up just in time to discover the rebel captain in chai*gc 
 of the train putting on my hat and traveling oflf with it. I 
 called out to him, demanding my hat, when he threw me his 
 old gray headgear, remarking that it was good enough for 
 any Yankee. Filled with indignation, I threw it out the car 
 door, and was compelled in consequence to pass the next six 
 months of my life without a hat. 
 
I04 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "At Greensboro, N. C, we failed to secure a train to con- 
 tinue our journey, and were marched to a piece of woods 
 near the town to pass the night; a severe thunderstorm came 
 up, and the rain fell in torrents all night. Sleep was, of 
 course, impossible, and we stood there in the rain until morn- 
 ing, making the woods ring with ' Rally Round the Flag, 
 Boys,' and other patriotic songs, much to the annoyance Ox^ 
 the guard, who threatened time and again to shoot the whole 
 lot of us. The people all along the route displayed the most 
 mtense hatred for Yankees, and many were the denuncia- 
 tions heaped upon us. Hang 'em! Shoot 'em! Kill 'em! 
 were the exclamations that greeted our ears at the different 
 stations passed. The guards were very rigid, and being 
 composed of troops who had never listened to the music in 
 front, felt that they had a heavy responsibiHty attached to 
 them in guarding a lot of unarmed prisoners through a peace- 
 ful section of their own country. At only one place along 
 the route did we encounter anything approaching humanity 
 of feeling, and that was at Augustn, Ga. The train stopped 
 there for a few minutes, and a young lady, accompanied by 
 two colored women bearing baskets of provisions, came to 
 the cars and commenced distributing food to the prisoners. 
 The guards undertook to stop her, but she gave them some 
 reply which was satisfactory to them, and continued her 
 labor of love unmolested, actuated by a feeling of humanity, 
 if not of Union sentiment. The boys cheered her lustily, 
 and I am positive that was the sweetest morsel of food ever 
 oiFered to Union prisoners south of Mason and Dixon's line. 
 
 "We arrived at Andersonville on the 1 6th of June, and 
 found this world-renowned place to consist of two houses, a 
 railroad station, and a water tank. The situation of the place 
 was one of utter isolation, surrounded as it was with a wilder- 
 ness of pine woods, and was apparently intended by nature 
 as an abode for owls and bats, the whistle of the locomotive 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I05 
 
 seeming to be an intrusion upon the utter loneliness which 
 the place Inspired. The whole distance from Macon, which 
 we left that morning, had been through a desolate, dreary- 
 part of the country, each mile more and more God-forsaken 
 in appearance, until our destination was reached, — truly a fit 
 place for the dark and cruel tragedy which paved earth six 
 miles long and six feet wide with human victims. A weird 
 spot, where the groans of the dying and shrieks of the maniac 
 reverberated through the forest wilds, lost from human ear in 
 the murmuring of the tree-tops, and wafted up to heaven by 
 the swaying of the giant pines. The sense of novelty in being 
 a prisoner of war diminished very rapidly as we marched to 
 the pen designated for our future abode, which was situated 
 about a half mile from the depot. Before entering the gate, 
 we were again drawn up into line and searched, lest our Yan- 
 kee ingenuity should succeed in procuring and concealing 
 something in spite of the watchfulness of our guards. We 
 were then divided into detachments of 270, sub-divided into 
 nineties, and further into thirties, to facilitate the regular 
 morning roll-call, and the not altogether regular drawing of 
 rations, a captive non-commissioned officer being placed over 
 each detachment and its divisions. 
 
 " The true inwardness ot the situation was then made 
 known to us in these words, uttered by the officer who com- 
 manded our escort from the cars: 
 
 " 'You d d Yankees, you will never come out of here 
 
 as men; what we cannot kill of you, we will disable for life.' 
 I shall never forget the effect these words produced upon my 
 mind. I had seen three years of hard service, participated 
 in fifteen pitched battles, and flattered myself that I knew 
 something of the hardships and dangers of war. My twen- 
 tieth birthday had been passed only the second day before, 
 and life seemed large and full of hope before me. The truth 
 of the awful situation fell upon me with full force. We were 
 
I06 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 to suffer with exposure, neglect, starvation, insults and indig- 
 nities, until our spirits were crushed out and bodies skeleton- 
 ized, if we submitted to the will of our keepers; or be shot 
 down if we rebelled. From that moment our imprisonment, 
 became a struggle between life and death. We knew that 
 everything that could be devised would be done to end our 
 lives. 
 
 " We then entered the prison, as many had done before 
 us. Alas, we had little dreamed of the hardships we should 
 here encounter; how few of us would ever come out alive! 
 It is impossible to describe in words the living horrors pre- 
 sented to the eye. To think that human beings should be 
 compelled to exist in such a place is a stain upon all record 
 of human barbarity. The pen was built by clearing out the 
 pine woods and inclosing about twenty acres within a stock- 
 ade. The ground upon which the camp was built was rising 
 on two sides of a mud bottom stream, the borders of which 
 were swampy. The stockade was formed of logs set upright, 
 reaching sixteen feet above ground, and about four feet below 
 the surface, with sentry boxes on top at intervals of perhaps 
 one hundred feet. Inside of this, and about twenty feet from 
 its base, was a railing three feet high formed of stakes set 
 upright about twelve feet apart, with a single rail extending 
 across the top. This was the ' dead line,' and the prisoner 
 who stepped over its bounds was not asked to retrace his 
 steps; the unerring bullet promptly met him on the othei 
 side. 
 
 " No shelter of any description was provided for the pris- 
 oners; on the contrary, all our blankets and shelter tents had 
 been taken from us. Sick and well alike were left exposed 
 to the burning sun or drenching rain, to live as best they 
 could upon the dry, barren, sandy soil, with only the canop)- 
 of heaven for protection. Within the inclosure we found 
 23,000 poor creatures, some of whom had scarce a trace of 
 
I08 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 manhood left in their appearance, some feeble and emaciated 
 from starvation and disease, clothnig worn to tatters, filthy 
 rags, unwashed faces, uncombed hair, countenances indicative 
 of utter despair, earthly hopes gone, — waiting only for death. 
 The stream which ran through the camp and supplied us with 
 water was rendered unfit for use before it reached us. Five 
 regiments of rebel troops who guarded the prisoners had 
 their quarters above us, and threw all their ofFal into it before 
 it reached us. At least three acres on the borders of the 
 stream were swampy, and was a living, surging mass of filth 
 propelled by maggots. The stench which arose from the 
 entire camp was beyond imagination, seeming to solidify the 
 atmosphere. Three of our squad, in utter despair at such a 
 prospect of existence, stepped over the 'dead line,' and received 
 their call for another world, satisfied that death, with all its 
 uncertainties, would not produce a worse place than this. To 
 say that the bravest hearts quailed at the sight of these living 
 horrors, coupled with the fact that we might be there until the 
 close of the war, then an indefinite period, would but faintly 
 express our feelings. Speaking for myself, I can only say that 
 I was filled with a feeling of dogged determination to live it 
 out to the bitter end. Every impulse in my nature seemed 
 to rise in revolt against the idea of dying a victim to the 
 machinations of our heartless enemies. I gloried in my hope 
 to live as a witness to what I believe to be the inost barbu' 
 rous treatment in huinan history ! I knew from the expe- 
 rience of others that upon this hope hung life itself, and I 
 held to it with all the tenacity of a youthful and unconquered 
 nature. Standing in that fated line where every second man 
 was destined to fill a grave on the ground where he stood, 
 my brave comrades upon my right hand and upon my left 
 hand have gone down, and by the favor of Divine Providence 
 I am left. 
 
 " The routine of prison life in this pen was as regular as 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OK THE CIVIL WAR. IO9 
 
 clock work in all respects, save in drawing rations. At 8 
 o'clock every morning each detachment was called into line 
 and counted by a rebel sergeant. Every man had to be 
 accounted for who was alive. No matter how sick, he was 
 brought out and counted. Every morning, regularly, a cir- 
 cuit of the camp was made outside the stockade by the officer 
 of the guard, accompanied by two or more bloodhounds, for 
 the purpose of ascertaining whether any one had made his 
 escape, either over or under the stockade. The rebel drum 
 corps always played the one tune, ' Ain't I Glad I'm out of 
 the Wilderness.' It is said that ' music hath charms to soothe 
 the savage breast,' but after listening to that tune every day 
 for three months, I am forced to the conclusion that rebel 
 music had no power to soothe us. It may be, however, that 
 they were unfortunate in their selection of a tune. 
 
 '' At 10 o'clock in the morning we generally drew ra- 
 tions. The rations at Andersonville consisted of one and one- 
 half pints of corn meal and three ounces of old bacon per 
 day. The quantity was sufficient to subsist upon, but unfor- 
 tunately for our stomachs, the meal was often cobs and corn 
 ground together. Fresh beef was sometimes substituted for 
 bacon, and rice for meal. The rations were issued from 
 wagons driven into camp to the sergeants of detachments, 
 by them to the sergeants of thirties, who divided it as nearly 
 as possible into thirty portions. One of the squad would 
 then turn his back, and as the sergeant placed his hand upon 
 a morsel, would call out to whom it should belong. Bones 
 were considered equal to meat in the division of the rations, 
 and the man who drew a shin bone with every particle of 
 meat stripped from it, was considered the fortunate man for 
 that day, as the bone was broken to pieces and boiled for 
 broth, after which it was burned almost to a cinder and eaten. 
 One of the greatest difficulties we experienced was in cook- 
 ing our food. The utensils we used for that purpose in the 
 
no CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 army had been taken from us. Wood was very sparsely 
 issued to us, although surrounded by woods. A piece as 
 large as an arm sold for twenty-five cents. We cut it into 
 splinters with the aid of beef ribs. The lucky possessor of a 
 case or pocket knife picked up many quarters by manufact- 
 uring wooden dishes, plates, spoons, pails, etc. With these 
 we could mix our meal to the proper consistency, put it into a 
 wooden plate, and stand it before the fire until it was 
 browned, or at least smoked with pitch pine until it had the 
 appearance of being cooked. From some pieces of Un and 
 sheet iron torn from the roof of the cars on our way from 
 Richmond, some were enabled to make pails or cups in which 
 to boil mush. Occasionally our rations would be stopped for 
 a day or two, upon some trifling pretext. The prisoners suf- 
 fered very much, not from the quantity of our allowance of 
 food, but from the quality and kind, as well as constant ex- 
 posure and general surroundings. 
 
 " Want of vegetables made scurvy very prevalent in 
 camp. A small potato sold for twenty-five cents, and who- 
 ever could raise the cash generally had a potato which he 
 carried with him to rub his teeth and gums. 
 
 " It must not be supposed, although destitution reached a 
 low point, that there were no speculators in Andersonville. 
 There were several booths stocked with a few articles, such 
 as tobacco, potatoes, flour, etc., at enormous prices, and a 
 small traffic was carried on by some enterprising Yankee 
 who divided his profits with some reliable rebel outside the 
 camp who furnished him the merchandise. Others, on a 
 smaller scale, who possessed enough of the ' ready John ' to 
 get a pound of flour, a stick of wood, and a piece of sheet 
 iron, were found making slap-jacks about the size of a trade 
 dollar, calling out, ' Here's your hot cakes, only twenty-five 
 cents each.' It was a godsend to many of us that the garri- 
 son of Union troops, numbering about 4,000 men, stationed at 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. Ill 
 
 Plymouth, N. C, had surrendered conditionally, and were 
 confined at Andersonville. These men retained everything 
 except arms and munitions of war, and freely shared their 
 shelter and conveniences with those of their friends who were 
 less fortunate. It was my good luck to find a company from 
 my old home among them, and I was not slow in accepting 
 an invitation to make my quarters with them. 
 
 " During the month of July the stockade was enlarged, 
 six acres being added to it. We were fortunate enough to be 
 moved on the new and higher ground inclosed by the addi- 
 tion, as the old portion of the camp had been literally cata- 
 combed for the convenience of the sick. The number of 
 prisoners was increased to 33,000 — a motlay mass — composed 
 of almost every nationality under the sun, and it was not long 
 before the new portion of the camp had become almost as 
 bad as the old. The filthy swamp enlarged its borders, and 
 daily became more abominable. The situation grew worse 
 each day. Rumors of exchange or of a cavalry raid for our 
 release were daily gossiped through the camp, and served to 
 inspire hope. It was well, perhaps, that no raid was evei 
 attempted. Our guards told us repeatedly that if such an 
 effort was made they would open fire on the camp from the 
 four batteries which were situated so as to sweep the entire 
 surface of it; and we had no doubt they would have been 
 highly gratified to have done so, as they never neglected an 
 opportunity to kill a prisoner upon the slightest pretext. A 
 furlough of thirty days was granted to any guard who killed 
 a Yankee. Deaths increased to a frightful extent, numbering 
 from sixty to two hundred per day during the hot months^ 
 Hundreds of poor creatures, weakened by hunger and sick- 
 ness, gave up hope, lay down, and died miserable deaths, 
 lonely in the midst of thousands almost as badly off as 
 themselves; each engaged in a struggle for life, and power- 
 less to help a fellow man. Early every morning on my trip 
 
JfI2 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 for water, of which we endeavored to lay in the day's supply 
 
 before ihe camp v/as aroused, and while the miserable stream 
 was comparatively clear, I would encounter a score or more 
 of poor creatures who had crawled down to get a drink dur- 
 ing the night and were unable to get back, covered with ver- 
 min and filth, maggots filling up the nose, eyes and mouth, 
 while the breath of life still lingered in their emaciated 
 bodies — some whose eyes were already set in death, others 
 too far gone to speak or move — sights like these language 
 cannot describe. Here were men of intelligence and afflu- 
 ence who had surrendered the comforts of life, leaving every- 
 thing behind to answer their country's call, with wives and 
 little ones at home unconscious of their awful sufferings, 
 waiting anxiously some tidings of the missing one. Moth- 
 ers, sisters, fathers and brothers in their Northern homes were 
 expecting the return of loved sons and brothers; yet here 
 they lay strewn along the filthy swamp, dead and dying. No 
 word of comfort reached their ear. No mother, wife, or little 
 ones to gather around them in this their last hour; not even a 
 stranger to speak a word of cheer, or point them to that 'far 
 away home of the soul.' No, shut out from all earthly sym- 
 pathy, surrounded by scenes of horror and disgust, in the 
 hands of merciless, unrelenting captors, they died like dogs. 
 
 " Life at Andersonville was necessarily selfish. True, as 
 in civil life, bullies had their followers and great minds their 
 worshipers, but in the struggle for existence every man stood 
 alone. Life was the prize fought for. Every ounce of food 
 parted with to help a fellow-man was a drop of blood from 
 the giver, that could poorly be spared. No matter how the 
 heart was wrung with sympathy for others, no material hcip 
 could be imparted. That which was necessary to relieve 
 want and suffering was not ours to give. Day after day we 
 were compelled to see a friend, old schoolmate or stranger, 
 sink under the awful pressure, and be drawn closer and closer 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. II 3 
 
 to a cruel death, without power to alleviate their sufferings. 
 To abandon the dead and dying and inspire hope in the living, 
 was all that was left us. 
 
 " I will relate a couple of interesting incidents which 
 occurred during my imprisonment in this horrible pen, one 
 of which was a remarkable display of Divine Providence, 
 and if the time of miracles had not long since passed, might 
 properly be classed among the catalogue of wonders justly 
 ascribed to supernatural causes. Both of these incidents have 
 been published in leading newspapers, and I as an eye-witness 
 of the facts, and because they justly form a part of every 
 man's experience who was confined in Andersonville at that 
 time, reproduce them here. I have previously told you of 
 the bad condition of the stream that supplied us with water. 
 This was our only drink until about the ist of August. One 
 hot afternoon, after a heavy shower of rain, just outside the 
 Hlead line,' where we were not allowed to go, on the descent 
 of the hill where the camp was situated, there suddenly 
 appeared a jet of pure cold water, as large as a man's thumb, 
 springing out of the hitherto dry, sandy, barren earth, and 
 describing an arch of about a foot in length until it reached 
 the ground again. A cup was fastened to a stick, reached 
 over the ' dead line,' and good water procured. It did not 
 flow fast enough to supply the camp, but hundreds, even 
 thousands, enjoyed its refreshing draughts, the priceless gift 
 of One from whose fevered lips had once burst the cry, 'I 
 thirst!' who saw and knew our sufferings, and in His infinite 
 wisdom placed it where improvident humanity could not 
 trample it out of existence. I do not know whether it flows 
 to this day or not, but it was still performing its mission of 
 mercy when I left the camp. 
 
 " When so large and so miscellaneous a body of men as 
 were those confined in Andersonville, are freed from the 
 restrictions imposed for the better government of society, a 
 
114 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 great deal of the worst side of human nature becomes visible. 
 The weak were a prey to the strong, stealing was carried on 
 without limit, and deeds of lawlessness were of hourly occur- 
 rence. No fear of law stood in the way of any act of depreda- 
 tion. Very severe methods were resorted to by the order-loving 
 part of the camp to curtail the evil propensities of the mali- 
 cious. During^ the latter part of June, the camp was infested 
 by a gang of desperadoes, composed of our own men, who 
 did not hesitate in the dead hour of night to murder any one 
 who might have succeeded in retaining money or valuables 
 in their possession, burying their bodies in the swamp. For 
 protection, a police force of 500 men was organized, which 
 was ever after retained in camp to preserve order. The per- 
 petrators of these outrages were ferreted out, and brought 
 before a self-constituted court-martial. It was discovered that 
 an organized gang of eighty lawless characters had banded 
 themselves together for the purpose of plunder, who hesi- 
 tated at no deed to accomplish their object. Seven of these 
 men were found guilty, and sentenced to be hung, the rebels 
 consenting to keep them safely under guard till the day of 
 execution. A scaffold was erected inside the stockade, and 
 on the nth day of July, six of the condemned men were 
 brought in and hung in the presence of all the prisoners and 
 4,000 of the rebel guards, as a warning to lawless characters. 
 One of the men had been previously shot by the guard while 
 in the act of trying to escape. This prompt treatment put a 
 stop to such lawlessness. 
 
 " As an incident of this remarkable execution, and to 
 show the power of one desperate man over an unorganized 
 body of men, while the prisoners were being led to the scaf- 
 fold, one of them, the acknowledged leader of the gang, who 
 had assumed the name of Mosby, broke from his guard and 
 ran. The immense crowd of prisoners involuntarily parted, 
 making a clear pathway for him, and it was with considerable 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. IIC 
 
 difficulty that he was recaptured and brought to the gallows. 
 As the drop fell, and the unfortunate wretches were launched 
 in mid air, one of the ropes broke, and its victim fell with a 
 dull thud to the ground; but he was promptly taken up and 
 hung again. 
 
 " The question has often been asked why we did not try 
 to escape. The reason is that at no time while I was at 
 Andersonville were over one-third of the prisoners capable of 
 active exertion, and any effort on the part of those able to 
 make the attempt, would have brought on a wholesale slaugh- 
 ter of helpless, unarmed men. Artillery was planted so as 
 to sweep every inch of the camp. Thousands would have 
 been killed or wounded, and most of the others recaptured, 
 and, if possible, treated worse than before. Our only chance 
 of escape was in tunneling under the stockade, which was 
 slow work, and very uncertain. Many attempts were made 
 in this direction, only a few of which ever proved successful. 
 The distance from the ' dead line ' to the stockade was about 
 sixteen feet, and it certainly was not safe to emerge from the 
 ground nearer than the same distance from the other side- 
 The ground was loose and sandy on top, and a tunnel nec- 
 essarily had to be deep in the center and narrow all the way 
 through to prevent the earth from caving in. In addition to 
 the great labor of the undertaking was the constant danger of 
 detection. The Confederate officer of the guard patroled 
 the camp outside the stockade every morning with a pack of 
 bloodhounds; besides which, spies were in our midst all the 
 time, as well as some of our own men employed to watch our 
 movements. 
 
 " Some idea of the labor, difficulties and disappointments 
 of tunneling may be gathered from one of our attempts. 
 Three of us at one time started a tunnel as close as possible 
 to the 'dead line.' We carefully hid it from view by putting 
 up an old piece of shelter tent possessed by one of the pai t\'. 
 
Il6 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Under this tent, one of us was ostensibly sick, and lay during 
 the daytime directly over the hole on a board purchased from 
 one of the speculators. At night we dug out the dirt with a 
 piece of tin taken from an old canteen, and carried it off in 
 our clothes, first tying our pant-legs tight around our ankles 
 and coat-sleeves around our wrists, then filling these with dirt 
 as well as our pockets, besides what we could stuff inside the 
 bodies of our shirts. After being thus loaded, we started for 
 the swamp, where we buried the fresh dirt, carefully covering 
 each deposit with the filthy surface of the swamp. The 
 utmost caution was necessary, not only to escape the suspicion 
 of the guard, whose heat ran past the scene of our operations, 
 but also to keep our work hidden from the other prisoners 
 around us. In this slow way we worked for over two weeks, 
 and calculated we had got about under the stockade. We 
 worked with a will, animated by a hope of liberty, and imag- 
 ined we could almost sniff the pure free air outside. Our 
 venture was a profound secret, though we determined when 
 the work was accomplished, to give several of our friends the 
 opportunity to get out after we were gone. This determina- 
 tion was not altogether freed from selfishness on our part, as 
 we knew the bloodhounds would probably follow the fresh- 
 est trails, and the last ones out would be more likely to 
 attract the attention of the guard than the first. Poor human 
 hopes! In spite of our well-laid plans, our house was verita- 
 bly built upon the sand. Our disappointment can possibly be 
 better imagined than described when, one afternoon, a rebel 
 sergeant and four guards with shovels, came into camp, and 
 marched directly to the tent, took off the board, and com- 
 menced to fill up our tunnel. Our * sick' comrade had by 
 the merest chance crawled out after a drink of water, and the 
 other two of us were spending the time with acquaintances. 
 We had the mortification of seeing the fruits of our toil vanish 
 before our eyes, and our hopes once more laid lower than ever. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. II7 
 
 Some treacherous prisoner or rebel spy had discovered our 
 work and betrayed us. We were only too glad that we all 
 escaped detection, though the rebels made no effort to find 
 us beyond asking the prisoners in the immediate vicinity. 
 Any of the prisoners who were found guilty of betraying 
 their fellows in an attempt to escape, were in great danger 
 of lynch law. I have witnessed several in the act of having 
 one-half their head shaved, and a letter ' T ' branded on with 
 a hot iron. 
 
 " At one time a plot was on foot to hoist the Stars and 
 Stripes, a small flag which had been preserved by a soldier, 
 raise an insurrection, capture the batteries, and turn them on 
 the guards — the 4th of July, 1864, being set as the day for its 
 execution. Through the perfidy of some of our own men^ 
 or by the aid of spies, it was made known to the enemy, who 
 made the necessary preparations to resist it, and gave us no- 
 tice that upon the first attempt on our part to carry out such 
 a scheme, they would open fire and keep it up while there 
 was a prisoner left alive. This fact, coupled with the fearful 
 slaughter of the sick and helpless, as well as of the able- 
 bodied, which would be the inevitable result, caused us to 
 abandon the enterprise. The rebels contented themselves 
 with firing blank cartridges over the camp at intervals during 
 the day, as a means of intimidation. 
 
 " After the 2oth of July very few prisoners were brought 
 to Anderson ville— none at all from the Army of the Po- 
 tomac, and but few from Sherman's army. News was con- 
 sequently scarce. An occasional rebel sheet fell into some 
 one's possession, which was eagerly scanned by all who could 
 get a chance at it. The sufferings were on the increase. 
 Thousands were prostrated by scurvy and diarrhoea. Hopes 
 of exchange or chances of escape grew less day by day. 
 The poor men were carried off to the dead house by scores, 
 weakened and dispirited by ' hope deferred,' added to dis- 
 
Il8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 ease, exposure, and extreme heat. Nothing served to break 
 the monotony made up of continual suffering and scenes of 
 horror, for even the excitement of such a life, death, murder, 
 thefts, and the ravings of lunatics crazed by suffering, became 
 wearisome monotony to those whose vitals were pierced by the 
 pangs of starvation and sensibilities blunted by contact 
 with the unspeakable horrors of a living death. Captain 
 Wirz, the subordinate commander, was daily seen riding 
 through camp in his shirt sleeves on an old gray horse, like 
 an emissary of Satan, inspecting the work of human des- 
 truction. Brigadier-General Winder, commander of the 
 post, never entered the camp, and is said never to have seen 
 the inside of the stockade. The utter want of all feeling of 
 humanity in these two men, as brought out at the trial of 
 Captain Wirz in Washington, shows how well they were 
 chosen to carry out the intentions of the authorities at Rich- 
 mond. It almost surpasses belief that these men, instead of 
 endeavoring to relieve, studied ways and means to add to the 
 awful character of the situation. It is a matter of record that 
 the authorities at the Confederate capital were cognizant of the 
 situation. It is a matter of record that General Winder was 
 acquainted with the condition of the prisoners; and to the 
 everlasting dishonor of the men who held the reins of the 
 rebel government, it is also a matter of record that nothing was 
 done to relieve our sufferings. It is urged by some that the 
 South was unable to do better by us. Granting that such 
 was the case, we were guilty of no other crime than defend- 
 ing our country, and common humanity would have de- 
 manded our parole. To do battle for our flag and country is 
 the least that any man can do, and is an honor rather than 
 a crime punishable by slow torture and lingering death. But 
 there is not even this poor excuse left, for it has been abund- 
 antly proven that they did not do what they could, and that 
 proof has come from Confederate sources. The official re- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CiViL WAR. 1 19 
 
 port of Col. D. T. Chandler, an inspector-general in the rebel 
 service, found on file in the archives of the Confederacy, 
 dated August 5, 1864, in the time of our extreme suffering, 
 forever silences all attempts to palliate this gigantic crime. At 
 the trial of Captain Wirz, Colonel Chandler entirely verified 
 this report, and stated that he had remonstrated with General 
 Winder, suggested better food, draining the swamps, and 
 other sanitary measures. To these humane suggestions Win- 
 der replied, ' Better let one-half die, so that we can take care 
 of the remainder.' I am giving a personal sketch for the 
 benefit of the Society for the Preservation of Unpublished 
 History, and let the society record that now, after more than 
 nineteen years from the date of these events, my ingenuity 
 fails to suggest anything that could be done that was not 
 done to render our lives as prisoners and human beings most 
 miserable. 
 
 "During the hot months of July and August the suffer- 
 ings were horrible to contemplate. The death-rate increased 
 to I for every 6^. In August it stood i out of loy^i while 
 in September it increased again to one out of every three! 
 The latter rate is accounted for, however, by the fact that all 
 but 10,000 of the prisoners, and those the worst cases, were 
 sent to other points during this month, thus making a larger 
 ratio of deaths in proportion to the number of prisoners than 
 in any previous month, there being 31,693 prisoners in camp 
 in August, and 8,218 in September. The total number of 
 deaths in July was 4,742, an average of 154 per day. It 
 always seemed to me providential that no contagious disease 
 ever broke out in camp. Every death that occurred there 
 was a monument to rebel barbarity. Great inducements 
 were held out to our men to save their lives by taking the 
 oath of allegiance to the rebels. They repeatedly told us that 
 our government had deserted us and refused to exchange 
 prisoners, thus practically abandoning us to our fate. In the 
 
I20 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 midst of our sufferings, with death staring us in the face on 
 every side in its most horrible form, they held out for us our 
 salvation — dishonor; but, thank God, the suffering boys pre- 
 ferred death, and the rebel ranks were not augmented by 
 recruits from Andersonville." 
 
 This was greeted with applause and exclamations of 
 " Three cheers for the Andersonville boys! " 
 
 **The reputation of Andersonville as a place of cruelty," 
 continued Mr. Bailey, " is world-renowned. Perhaps no 
 place in history achieved a more unenviable name in the short 
 period of fourteen months, than this insignificant spot. Its 
 history from the 15th of February, 1864, when the first 
 Union prisoner was received within its hated walls, to the 
 loth of April, 1865, can never be justly written by pen, or 
 told in language. The unfolding of the chapter of atrocities 
 at the trial of Captain Wirz, was but a page. The 14,461 
 names inscribed upon as many rude head-boards in the 
 Andersonville cemetery, are significant of as many unwritten 
 chapters of awful suffering and death. The 451 graves 
 marked ' unknown ' tell a fearful story, — names and resting- 
 places blotted out of existence; — no, shut out from human vis- 
 ion only, not from the All-Seeing Eye of the Great Com- 
 mander. Cruelties were perpetrated and sufferings endured, 
 unparalleled in the history of civilization, and unapproached 
 in the annals of barbarism, save by the bitter persecution of 
 the early Christians, or the sufferings of the unfortunate 
 Waldenses, in their Alpine retreats. Not less unrelenting in 
 cruelty were these twin tyrants of modern times, Winder and 
 Wirz, than the silver-veiled Prophet of the East, who held 
 his victims by an oath imposed in the charnel-vault, and 
 pledged in the blood of the dead." 
 
 The camp-fire was adjourned, and the soldiers went quietly 
 away, some of them shadowed by this appalling memory? 
 while, with the others, for once hilarity was a foreign thing. 
 
X 
 
 CAMP-FIRE IX. 
 
 THE FI,0RBA:CE prison HOMEWARD BOUND PATHETIC 
 
 INCIDENTS. 
 
 tI^^USINEiSS being resumed Mr. Bailey continued his ex- 
 perience: 
 
 **2\oout the middle of September Sherman's army 
 having pressed the forces of General Hood back too far for 
 the safe keeping of prisoners at Andersonville, the camp was 
 partially broken up, and most of the prisoners distributed be- 
 tween Miiar, Ga., Cahawba, Ala., and Florence, S.C. About 
 10,000 were retained at the old camp. It was my ill-fortune 
 to be among those who were taken to Florence, where our 
 sufferings were greatly increased by starvation and exposure 
 to cold weather, as well as the unexampled brutality of our 
 commanding officer. 
 
 "On the 13th day of September, 1864, several thousand 
 of the prisoners who had been confined at Andersonville were 
 placed in caitie cars, destined for some point then unknown, 
 — anywhere 10 escape Sherman. It was evident to us that it 
 was somethnig of a question in the minds of our captors just 
 where we snould be taken for safe keeping. On the 15th of 
 the month we were unloaded at Florence, S. C, a town 106 
 miles north of Charleston. No preparations had been made 
 for our reception, and we were turned loose in open field, 
 with a double chain of sentinels around us. Rations were 
 not issued regularly for some time. Meal and rice were dealt 
 out to us in a table-spoon, not exceeding three spoonfuls on 
 some days. During the first three weeks of our stay at 
 
 V3I 
 
132 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Florence, the post was commanded by a lieutenant-colonel 
 whose name I cannot now recall. He was a -very humane 
 man, and was often moved to tears by the suffering and des- 
 titution amongst the prisoners. He told me upon one occa- 
 sion, just previous to leaving us, that he could not stay there 
 and witness such suffering, — he would rather turn the prison- 
 ers all loose. He had no heart for this phase of civil war. 
 He had the kindness to tell the prisoners that, if any of 
 them wanted to write home, he would himself deliver the 
 letters on board the Union flag-of-truce boat. The Confed- 
 erate postage was ten cents in silver, and as there were very 
 few dimes among the prisoners, he paid the postage him- 
 self. My letter reached home in Pennsylvania about two 
 weeks afterward, but as all our letters were examined before 
 passing the rebel lines, we were instructed to write nothing 
 but pleasing news to our Northern friends. A letter I mailed 
 at Andersonville July 4, I took from the post-office at Will- 
 iamsport. Pa., myself in the following March. 
 
 " Meanwhile a stockade was being erected in a neighboring 
 wood,which, being completed,we entered October 2. We were 
 formed into thousands, sub-divided into hundreds, instead of 
 detachments of nineties and thirties, as at Andersonville. The 
 camp was designated by the first, second, or third thousand, 
 and so on. A stream also ran through this pen, but it was 
 deeper and more rapid than the one at Andersonville, and gave 
 us much better water. Soon came a change in commanding 
 officers. One Lieutenant Barrett, formerly of General Mor- 
 gan's staff, it was said, whose natural ferocity and brutal 
 cruelty I have never seen equaled, was placed in charge of 
 the camp. He was employed previous to the war as a slave 
 driver, and was a better tool in the hands of leading ai:'thor- 
 ities for the handling of prisoners according to the code than 
 the gentleman whom he succeeded. His ' culcha ' and early 
 training eminently qualified him for the position of a human 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 1 23 
 
 butcher. For trivial causes he would ' Tannerize ' the entire 
 camp for two or three days in succession. This was bad 
 enough for well-fed men, but for half-starved wretches it was 
 simply horrible. I have seen him, for punishment to a man 
 trying to escape, tie up the poor unfortunate by the thumbs, 
 his toes just reaching the ground, and kick his feet from 
 under him, laughing at his shrieks of pain as his whole weight 
 was ^suspended on his thumbs. He would continue this 
 amusement until the poor fellow's thumbs would burst open 
 from the pressure. I have also seen him take a club in hand, 
 and walk through camp, swinging it right and left, hitting 
 any who were too weak to get out of his way. I have seen 
 him stand on the rail over the gate leading into camp, and 
 lire his revolver at random amongst the prisoners. These 
 few instances of the brutal character of Lieutenant Barrett, to 
 which I might add many more, will show you how well the 
 men were selected for the accomplishment of the purposes 
 intended toward Union prisoners. 
 
 " The pen at Florence was modeled very much after the 
 style of the one at Andersonville, only much smaller in ex- 
 tent. The ' dead line ' was not forgotten. It offered too 
 good an opportunity to shoot prisoners to be omitted. Many 
 a man went to his long home who accidentally passed its 
 boundaries, for in many places the railing would get torn 
 down, and the line between life and death could only be dis- 
 tinguished by the fact that no footprints were visible on the 
 other side. The commissary building was just outside 
 the gate leading from the camp, and was generally well- 
 stocked with provisions which, however, were dealt out spar- 
 ingly enough to us. The weather was now getting colder, and 
 the fall rains added much to our discomfort. Meat was left 
 out of our rations altogether, and our meal or rice was re- 
 duced to one pint per day, and a half teaspoonful of salt 
 every second day, varied occasionally with beans instead of 
 
124 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 meal. Clothing was worn threadbare; our knees and el- 
 bows began to be visible through well-worn holes. Affairs 
 looked dismal. The change of camp had deprived me of my 
 Plymouth friends, they having been sent to Milan. Fortu- 
 nately the new stockade had been erected on the site of a piece 
 of woods, and the brush and limbs trimmed off the logs used 
 in its construction had been left stacked up in heaps on the 
 ground. I joined in with eight others, belonging to the old 
 Bucktail regiment, and confiscated a pile of this brush and 
 limbs, and commenced the erection of a shelter, which, by 
 great labor under difficulties, we accomplished. We first 
 dug down about two feet in the earth, and stood up tlie limbs 
 like the roof of a house, or after the style of an 'A' tent. We 
 then covered the limbs with a light brush, and on top of that 
 put the earth which we had dug out. Our only tool for this 
 purpose was a half canteen. It was slow work, weak and 
 hungry as we were, but we finished in about ten days, and 
 fiom that time had a partial shelter from the weather. This 
 effort on our part undoubtedly went far toward the preserva- 
 tion of our lives, and it was needed, as we began to be much 
 reduced by short rations and want of meat. We took the pre- 
 caution to bury all the surplus wood we could get to prevent 
 it from being stolen, for wood soon became as scarce as at 
 Andersonville. The majority of prisoners were less fortunate 
 in this respect, than we. Many poor wretches burrowed in 
 the earth to gain shelter from wind and rain, and soon lost all 
 appearance of human beings. Scarcely had our shelter been 
 completed, when a calamity happened to one of our num- 
 ber, which shed a dark cloud over our household. One of our 
 comrades had gone down to the brook to procure water, 
 which we were In the habit of getting by walking out on a 
 log across the stream close to the ' dead line.' The morning 
 was wet and muddy, and the log was in consequence very 
 slippery. While in the act of reaching down for water, he 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I35 
 
 slipped and fell off the log over the ' dead line ' into the 
 water, about two feet deep. The guard immediately shot 
 him. Some of us hearing the shot ran down, half suspect- 
 ing the state of affairs, and implored the guard to let us take 
 him out, but not until the officer of the guard with a squad of 
 men came to the spot and covered us with their rifles, were 
 we permitted to lift out our friend, who breathed his last as 
 we laid him on the bank. Such cold-blooded murder of 
 Union prisoners under circumstances without a shadow of 
 justification were of daily occurrence, and we felt our man- 
 hood crushed to the very earth, being powerless to resist such 
 atrocities. 
 
 " The police system established at Andersonville became 
 the ruling power at Florence. While it was far from perfect, 
 it was better than no control at all, and although the bounds 
 of justice were frequently passed in the display of self-consti- 
 tuted authority, yet life and rights were comparatively safe to 
 the mass. The ordinary punishment of criminals consisted of 
 a prescribed number of lashes on the bare back, or running 
 the gauntlet and dodging what blows the prisoner's tactics 
 and ability would permit. I am satisfied that the trial of 
 Guiteau at the police court of either Andersonville or 
 Florence, would have been conducted without the aid of red 
 tape, and ended entirely to the satisfaction of the American 
 people in less than two hours. 
 
 " During the month of November we passed our darkest 
 days of misery and distress. We got up hungry and cold in 
 the morning, and laid down at night the same. The rations 
 were again reduced in quantity, and men were brought to the 
 direst extremities. I have seen men, impelled by hunger, ac- 
 complish feats which cannot be described here. 
 
 "Even the rumors of exchange, which had been put in 
 circulation from time to time to raise the drooping spirits of 
 the despondent, died out. The brave hearts who dared to 
 
126 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 hope against hope were daily growing fewer, so utterly de- 
 serted did we seem to be by the outer world. For simple 
 pretexts our poor food was often denied us, and many men 
 were rendered insane by the pangs of hunger. Many a long 
 night we lay sleepless from cold, wet and hunger, when it 
 seemed as though one were in the regions of the damned. 
 Men crazed and idiotic from starvation rambled by scores and 
 hundreds through camp, raving lunatics, muttering their un- 
 intelligible moanings, their eye-balls protruding with a wild, 
 unearthly glare, faces and bodies thin and emaciated — they 
 seemed like ghostly apparitions from the unknown worlds 
 making night frightful with groans of terror, and wails of 
 despair. Many were in this condition who were men of edu- 
 cation and ability, and had been reared in refined and com- 
 fortable homes. The only hope of escape from this awful 
 state of affairs held out to us, was the oath of allegiance to 
 the Confederacy. Their recruiting officers were daily in 
 camp, and some were induced, as the only means of preserv- 
 ing their lives, to take the oath and join the rebel army, re- 
 solving to escape at the first opportunity. A Canadian by 
 the name of Haley, with whom I was acquainted, was 
 among those v^ho took the oath and went out. He had be- 
 longed to the English army in Canada, and, deserting it, 
 joined the Union army; then deserting our side, joined the 
 rebels, and when I arrived at parole . camp, Annapolis, a 
 month later, his was the first familiar face I saw. He had 
 been placed on picket guard, and deserted the rebels within a 
 week after he got out of Florence. But to the majority of 
 us, the idea was worse than death. They might torture us 
 w^ith cruelty, they might kill us with starvation; but compel 
 us to swear allegiance to a band of traitors whose purpose it 
 was to destroy the best government God ever gave to man, 
 they could not. 
 
 " During the first of this month our government sue- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 1 27 
 
 ceeded in sending through the lines a quantity of blankets for 
 our use, but very few of them ever got into our possession. 
 We were drawn up into line by hundreds, and marched sin- 
 gle file past a bag containing six black beans and ninety-four 
 white ones. Each prisoner drew out a bean; those who held 
 black beans got blankets, — six to cover a hundred men. The 
 remainder of the blankets were confiscated by the rebels. 
 The number of sick and helpless increased so fast that a hos- 
 pital was formed in a corner of the stockade, attended by two 
 or three rebel surgeons. Not the least of the dangers to be 
 avoided was gangrene. One of our comrades named Rob- 
 erts, a very promising 3^oung man, had hurt his foot slightly 
 before leaving Andersonville. From a minute scratch it de- 
 veloped into a serious wound, until finally he was taken to 
 the hospital and had his foot amputated. But it was too late 
 — the virulent poison had penetrated his entire system. He 
 used to come from the hospital to see us as long as he could, 
 but his visits ceased, and, as we were not permitted to go and 
 see him, his light went out alone and among strangers. These 
 were our darkest hours. The sands in the hour glass were 
 running low. Day by day we grew weaker and more help- 
 less, and yet the time of deliverance seemed no nearer than at 
 first. 
 
 " Daily we visited among our friends and acquaintances to 
 see how each was getting along — to learn who had been 
 touched by the death messenger, and who were left; to re- 
 ceive and impart messages to be carried by the survivors to 
 far-off friends whom we might not see again; to exchange 
 farewells with the dying; to look at the living with the mute 
 inquiry, Who among us will be the next? I remember, as 
 if but yesterday, sitting by the side of a dying comrade, who 
 said, ' Frank, we were boys together, living as neighbors ; we 
 went to school together (and here the tears rolled down his 
 cheeks), but I am going fast, and all that is left of Oscar 
 
128 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Henry will soon be carried to the deadhouse. When you go 
 back 1 want you to go and see my poor old mother — tell her 
 that I died like a man.' Such were the messages which 
 weighed down our already heavy hearts. It seemed to us 
 then that if we could be permitted to take one more look at 
 home and friends, and a hearty meal around the family table, 
 our fondest expectations on this earth would be fully realized. 
 " But 'tis well that the sun does not always remain below 
 the horizon. With what delight we hailed the first rays of 
 morning light! On the morning of November 27 the first 
 thousand was marched outside the stockade, and the sickest 
 and most destitute ones selected for parole and taken to Sa- 
 vannah. The next morning the second thousand, to which I 
 belonged, was called out. As the examining surgeon passed 
 down the lines, selecting the worst cases, for once in my life I 
 desired to look sick. He stopped before me, and asked a few 
 questions, which I answered as well as my throbbing heart 
 and the lump in my throat would allow. He then said, ''Tou 
 may go!"* Controlling my emotions as best I could, I went 
 forward and signed the parole. Those of us who had signed 
 the parole were permitted to sleep outside the stockade that 
 night, though well guarded; while those less fortunate were 
 marched back to the bull pen. Early next morning we got 
 on freight cars destined for Charleston, where we arrived in 
 the evening. But alas! we learned to our sorrow that the 
 Union General Foster had intercepted communications to 
 Savannah, whither we were going for exchange. This is the 
 only instance I can think of when a Union victory was un- 
 welcome news. This one was ill-timed and out of place. 
 We remained in Charleston three days, waiting to go through. 
 Our forces were shelling the city all the time, and no arrange- 
 ments could be effected for our transfer to the Union lines. 
 We were again placed on cars and our faces turned toward 
 the * bull pen ' at Florence. Many desperate efforts were 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 1 29 
 
 made to escape that day by jumping from the cars. The 
 guards kept up a desultory fire from the roofs of the cars to 
 show that they were on the alert. Our aspect was sorrowfLil 
 and our hearts sad as we once more entered that hated, 
 dreaded place; it seemed as if fate had conspired against us. 
 
 " Once more our drooping spirits were revived. On the 
 5th of December we were again called out, and taken back 
 to Charleston that night. It was a ride long to be remem- 
 bered. The cars were not only filled inside but on top. We 
 traveled all night, over a hundred miles, with a strong, cold, 
 December wind in our faces. I crouched behind a large man 
 with an overcoat on, who had laid down on the car roof, to 
 shield, if possible, my bare knees and elbows from the piti- 
 less storm. When morning came and our destination was 
 reached, we were ordered to get off and embark on a steamer 
 lying at the wharf. I tried to arouse my strange friend 
 whom I had used as a fortification during the night, but he 
 was dead! — ^paroled with us, but gone home before us. 
 About 9 o'clock in the morning the rebel steamer started for 
 Fort Sumter, where me met our own boat, to which we were 
 transferred, within a mile of its battered walls. The emotions 
 that filled our hearts at the sight of the old Stars and Stripes 
 waving above our heads, it is impossible to describe. It was 
 like a dream. The tears would come from very joy — a joy 
 that will endure while life lasts, for I can never refer to that 
 moment of supreme relief, without a full heart. As soon as 
 we were on board our steamer, we received a new suit of 
 clothes and a clean meal. We laid down that night with 
 lighter hearts than we had had for many a long month. The 
 next day we were transferred to an ocean steamer, and sailed 
 * homeward-bound ' from Charleston harbor. 
 
 "A few months later, on the field of Appomattox, some of 
 us were permitted to step across the ' bloody chasm,' and re- 
 ceive the stacked arms and drooping battle-flags which de- 
 9 
 
130 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 noted the downfall of rebellion, and assured us that our suf- 
 ferings had not been in vain. 
 
 " The incidents I have related form but an individual ex- 
 perience, the half untold, in a chapter which one might al- 
 most wish had never been written. When I look back and 
 review my experience as a prisoner, I am, at times, disposed 
 to doubt my own senses, or the soundness of my mind — so 
 incredible does it appear that such barbarities would be al- 
 lowed within the pale of civilization. But the world will 
 not suffer the memory of such atrocities to die. How well 
 they carried out their threats of extermination is proved by 
 testimony more conclusive than was ever brought to bear on 
 a similar case. 
 
 " The time has passed to inquire whether punishment has 
 been meted out to the authors of this suffering, but there will 
 come a day when the angel of justice will uncover the silent 
 mounds ot earth, and bid the scores of thousands of ghastly, 
 emaciated victims of Southern prison pens come forth and 
 confront the keepers at the bar of the great Unerring Judge, 
 indicting them with blacker crimes than the world will ever 
 know, because it is impossible for human mind to compre- 
 hend, or words borne on human tongue to tell, the suffering 
 prescribed to Union prisoners; and though the full extent 
 will ever remain an unwritten chapter of the war, T am 
 pleased to know that the Society for the Preservation of Un- 
 published History has heard what remarks I myself have 
 
CAMP-FIRE X. 
 
 WAR ON THE WATER DARING DEEDS — HOW MANY REGI- 
 MENTS EACH MAN CAPTURED REMARKABLE ESCAPES 
 
 THE BIGGEST LIAR IN THE WAR. 
 
 ^^JIPILL the Society for the Preservation of Unpubhshed 
 Wn^Mk History be pleased to hear of a romance on a river?" 
 (^=§^1 inquired Mr. L. D. Simonds, late acting master, 
 mate of the United States Steamer General Thomas. 
 
 " No! " said the temperate S. P. U. H. « Water is for- 
 eign to our nature. Away back in the reign of Abraham I, 
 sixteenth adviser-general to Uncle Sam, when we w"ere but a 
 few years old, our mother was accustomed to wash our 
 fevered cheeks with the hated fluid. Thence to now be it 
 known that eternal total abstinence is sworn. Never mention 
 that name to us again." 
 
 But for the benefit of posterity, which argument always 
 hits a weak side of the S. P. U. H., the Society was per- 
 suaded to listen, and Mr. Simonds proceeded: 
 
 " When General Hood, on his march to Nashville, Tenn., 
 halted his command at Decatur, Ala., he threw out his skir- 
 mishers, and placed his artillery in position on the river bank, 
 expecting to capture the pontoon bridge, cross over his army, 
 march on to Nashville, and then make a bold strike to save 
 the Confederacy. But the sequel proved that he counted 
 without his host. 
 
 " The U. S. Steamer General Thomas at this time was 
 stationed at Decatur, with orders to patrol the river to a point 
 about thirty miles above Decatur, reserving what coal we had 
 
132 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 to bank the fires, and to confiscate rails along the river for 
 fuel while under way, as the river at that time was so low 
 that we could not get to Bridgeport to lay in a supply of coal, 
 
 "At the time mentioned, the General Thotnas was some 
 twelve or fifteen miles above Decatur. Captain Morton was 
 pacing the hurricane deck, enjoying a good smoke from his 
 meerschaum pipe, when all of a sudden- he stopped, turned 
 around, took his pipe from his mouth, and listened for several 
 seconds. Then he resumed his pacing, but presently halted 
 again in his reverie — listened, turned, and called out to Mr. 
 Johnson, the pilot: 
 
 " * Did you hear anything, sir? ' 
 
 " Mr Johnson replied that he did not. The captain once 
 more resumed his pacing the deck. Some seconds elapsed, 
 when the captain suddenly stopped again. 
 
 " ' There, sir! ' said he, ' did you not hear that?' 
 
 " ' Well, captain, I believe I did hear something that 
 sounded like a cannon shot.' 
 
 " Once more the same distant rumbling sound echoed up 
 and down the valley. There was no mistaking it — it was a 
 sound that had become familiar to every veteran of the war, 
 the noise of artillery. Immediately the orders were given to 
 round to and steam down the river. The engines were re- 
 versed, and down the river we went. Hammocks were taken 
 out of the nettings and stowed around the boilers, and every 
 precaution was taken to prevent any disaster to the boat. 
 The men were beat to quarters, the guns run in, and port 
 l;oles closed. We soon neared a small creek running into the 
 Tennessee, about five miles above Decatur. We landed, and 
 all hands were piped ashore to rail up. Some two hours 
 were thus consumed. 
 
 " Opposite to us and in the middle of the river, lay an 
 army gunboat at anchor, manned by an Indiana battery, 
 which was commanded by Captain Naylor. The captain 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 133 
 
 had gone to Decatur, to confer with General Granger, and 
 left the boat in charge of the first lieutenant, with only twen- 
 ty-three pounds of steam — almost in sight of, and in range of 
 the rebel batteries. iVll hands were aboard, lines were cast 
 off, the gang-plank hauled in, and orders given to back out, 
 and steam down the river to the scene of action, when a cloud 
 of dust was seen in the distance. As it came nearer, the clat- 
 ter of horses' feet were heard. A little nearer, a squad of 
 cavalry were seen. Nearer and nearer they approached, un- 
 til a bend in the road hid the horsemen from view. Suddenly 
 an officer dashed down to the river side, who proved to be 
 Captain Naylor, of the army gunboat, returning from De- 
 catur, with an escort of cavalry. The cutter of the General 
 Thomas was called away to bring the captain on board. It 
 came alongside, and Captain Naylor was met at the gang- 
 way by the captain, boatswain, and two other men. 
 
 " By the way, Captain Morton was what was termed an 
 old Salter. As brave a man as ever trod a deck, and a strict 
 disciplinarian, though he was kind and courteous to the officers 
 and men under him; but like other men, he had his faults, 
 the principal one of which was profanity. 
 
 " ' Well, Captain Morton,' said Captain Naylor, as he en- 
 tered the gangway, ' Hood has twenty-three pieces of artil- 
 lery stationed on the river bank to prevent us from coming 
 down to help General Granger.' 
 
 " * I don't care a if they have 200 pieces,' returned 
 
 Morton. 
 
 " ' Well, they'll blow us clear out of the water if we un- 
 dertake to run by — that's all there is of that,' replied Captain 
 Naylor. 
 
 " ' I don't give a ; I might as well be blown out of 
 
 the water here as any other place, and by I am goin' 
 
 down to help that fort out, if I get blowed to h — 1. You can 
 follow me or stay where you are.' 
 
134 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "* Well, captain, wherever you go, you can depend upon 
 my following, let the consequences be what they may,' said 
 Captain Naylor, resigned to his fate. 
 
 " 'All right — get up steam and follow me. Signal, when 
 you have steam enough.' 
 
 « Captain Naylor then stepped into his own cutter, which 
 by this time had come alongside, and was rowed to his own 
 boat. In about fifteen minutes afterward, he signaled the 
 General Thomas^ 'AH ready!' and we rounded to and sped 
 on our way down the river. 
 
 " The first intimation we had of the presence of the 
 enem}^, was about one mile below the mouth of the creek, 
 when a shot from the gun of a sharpshooter struck the case- 
 mate, just above the port-hole abaft the larboard wheel- 
 house, which instantly caused me to take my head out of the 
 way. Immediately after came several shots from the same 
 direction, and from equally as good marksmen. Orders came 
 from the pilot-house through the trumpet, to shift the star- 
 board guns to the larboard side, and prepare for action. This 
 was done in the twinkling of an eye, and a shot from one of 
 our bow guns went crashing, tearing, and plowing its way 
 through the timber, on and on, until it exploded in the midst 
 of Stuart's cavalry, which was massed about three-quarters of 
 a mile back from the river, and caused considerable commo- 
 tion in their ranks. Another, and another followed its prede- 
 cessor, when presently the rebel batteries opened fire, making 
 it lively for us the rest of our way. Things began to be 
 a little dangerous. A shot came plowing its way abaft 
 the larboard wheel-house, carrying with it a piece of the 
 inner casemate, striking one of the men at the gun on the 
 head, and knocking him senseless. The same shot struck a 
 stanchion, just forward of the magazine hatchway, knocking 
 the captain's cook over, and maiming him for life, then passed 
 out through the starboard wheel-house. Another came 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I35 
 
 through the hull of the boat, about two feet forward of the 
 magazine; another still further forward, two inches above 
 the water line; another passed through the upper and after part 
 of the larboard wheel-house, thence through the pilot's state- 
 room, carrying with it one-half of the pilot's dress coat-tail,.and 
 came out through the second assistant engineer's room, taking 
 with it a feather pillow; another found its way through, and 
 exploded in our pantry, breaking every dish we had, scattn-- 
 ing the beans, flour, and dishes in all directions. At this time 
 the captain's steward was passing through the wood-room on 
 his way to the captain's cabin, and a piece of the shell struck 
 him on the back, tearing a fearful gash. He afterward died 
 in hospital. 
 
 " About two miles above Decatur there is a bend in the 
 river, and as our boat came into view, both sides ceased fight- 
 ing, to witness a beautiful river sight, for it was supposed that 
 our boat was on fire, as nothing could be seen of it, save one 
 massive sheet of flame and smoke — so rapid was the firing. 
 Had we hugged the north shore as was su2:)posed by the 
 Johnnies, the probabilities are that there would have been but 
 few of us left. Instead of this, the captain hugged the south 
 shore, right under the very muzzle of the enemy's guns, 
 which saved us. As we passed the batteries and came op- 
 posite the fort, we rounded to, and gave them a parting sa- 
 lute with our two bow guns, and such a cheer as rent the air 
 from our boys in the fort, only those who heard it know. 
 
 " Hostilities ceased, and the enemy withdrew, leaving us 
 in our glory. That night they moved farth'^.r down the 
 river, where they succeeded in making a crossing, and 
 marched on to Nashville. 
 
 " I must not forget Captain Naylor and the brave boys 
 under his command, who so gallantly followed us in running 
 the gauntlet. No one but a bfave man would have followed 
 us, knowing the position and strength of the enemy, as he 
 
136 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 did ; and, above all, his boat was not even protected by a case- 
 mate. He fared, however, even better than we did, for he 
 lost only one man, whose head was taken off by a shot, and 
 rolled out into the river; and, I believe, one or two slightly 
 wounded. 
 
 " The following day Captain Naylor, our executive offi- 
 cer, second assistant engineer, another officer, and myself 
 went ashore, and procuring a horse each from the quarter- 
 master, rode over the field of action. As we neared the river 
 bank, we could see coat sleeves torn to shreds, a man's 
 orm here, a leg there, and pieces of ammunition chests and 
 caisson wheels scattered in all directions. All over the field 
 could be seen what death and destruction we had dealt out to 
 the enemy. In our ride over the field, we came to a planter's 
 house, dismounted and went in, and from the planter's wife 
 we learned that General Stuart had massed his cavalry on 
 their plantation. When our first shot was fired, it came tear- 
 ing its way through the woods, exploded in their midst, killed 
 several, and wounded quite a number of others. One shot 
 from our guns blew up a caisson and killed fifty men. 
 Another dismounted one of their guns, and tore the gun 
 carriage to pieces. 
 
 " The day following, the troops commenced to evacuate 
 Decatur, and fall back toward Nashville. The orders from 
 General Granger were to destroy the pontoons after the 
 troops had all passed over, which destruction was placed 
 under my charge. Through much tribulation, and receiving 
 a good many shots from the rebel sharpshooters, I succeeded, 
 with the assistance of some of the troops, in accomplishing 
 this, and we went on down the river." 
 
 " Speaking of throwing shells into the woods," said Mr. 
 C. E. Harden, of Co. F, 36th Illinois, " reminds me of a 
 peculiar little anecdote: 
 
 " On the day previous to the evacuation of Charleston, 
 
i 
 
138 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 vS. C, a shot was fired from one of the Island batteries (I 
 think Morris Island), marked with chalk or paint,' Good for 
 yames Street^ and strange as it may appear, it dropped in 
 James Street, and was pointed out to me by an old citizen, 
 in the last of February, 1864, who remarked that no other 
 shot had come near as far, and he knew it was a bad omen, 
 for that night the city was evacuated. I would like for tiie 
 comrade who fired that shot to know that it fulfilled its 
 mission." 
 
 In behalf of posterity, the S. P. U. H. took due note of 
 this. 
 
 " That reminds me of a strange occurrence," said the 
 colonel of the 40th Ohio, " about the most curious incident 
 that I met with durin;^ the war. 
 
 *' In February, 1S64, our brigade was encamped at Blue 
 Springs, Tenn. Sherman, who was with his forces then 
 at or near Vicksburg, intended to make an advance upon 
 the rebels at Jackson, Miss. In order that Joe Johnston 
 should not go to the relief of the Jackson forces, we, with 
 the other troops, were ordered to make a demonstration in 
 his front, and for that purpose moved down toward Dalton, 
 Ga., before and around which place his troops were located. 
 It was not the design, apparently, to do much fighting, but 
 to make a pretence of it, and to engage his troops so com- 
 pletely that they could not be withdrawn. We marched and 
 counter-marched, and fired our guns, and set fire to the leaves 
 and woods, and made the rebels believe we were going to 
 devour them bodily. After three or four days of this kina 
 of manoeuvering, our object was accomplished, and we with- 
 drew and went back to camp. 
 
 "The incident I refer to occurred just as we were with- 
 drawing our skirmish line. I went along the skirmish line 
 of our brigade, to withdraw the men as quietly as possible. 
 The line was stretched along the north side of a gorge, or 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I39 
 
 deep ravine, which was some two hundred yards wide. The 
 rebel skirmish Hne was posted along the south side of this 
 ravine, so that between the two lines there was clear space, 
 and the men on either side were plainly discernible to each 
 other, when they exposed themselves by leaving their cover. 
 
 " As I withdrew man after man, I finally came to a mem- 
 ber of Company C, who was standing behind a tree, and who, 
 at the instant I stepped up to him, had just fired, and was tak- 
 ing his gun down. He looked curiously at the muzzle of 
 it, and I asked him what was the matter, when he pointed 
 to the gun, and said: 
 
 " * Look there! That rebel's bullet went square into that 
 barrel ! ' 
 
 " And sure enough, the rebel ball had gone directly into 
 the barrel, just as he had fired. It met his own ball about 
 five inches from the muzzle, and the concussion of the two 
 burst the barrel, making an opening some three inches long, 
 and about half an inch wide. The muzzle of the gun was 
 unbroken and not abraded. Both the balls were flattened 
 and welded together. The rebel ball, just as the Company C 
 man fired, had gone straight into his gun barrel, and met his 
 own ball, which was on its way to pay its respects to the fel- 
 low across the ravine. The Company C man said that he 
 and that Johnny had been firing at each other for some time. 
 
 " If our man had held his gun one thirty -second part of 
 an inch up or down, to the right or to the left, from the 
 position in which he did hold it, the rebel ball would have 
 crashed into his brain, instead of going into the barrel of his 
 gun, and I would have found a corpse at that tree, instead of 
 a man wondering at the incident that had occurred." 
 
 Doctor Watson, of Company B, 53d Illinois, then related 
 this remarkable experience, which shows how many regi- 
 ments one man can sometimes capture: 
 
 "On the 24th of February, 1864, sixteen men and myself 
 
140 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 were detailed to go out foraging to procure meat, meal and 
 flour for our regiment. At this time, we had a large foraging 
 party detailed from each regiment in the corps, as we had 
 started from the rear of Vicksburg for Meridian, Miss., with 
 quarter rations for ten days, and had been out some twenty- 
 five days; so that we had to subsist off the country. Subse- 
 quently we were detailed from the foraging party to act as 
 alarm guard, with orders to join the main squad at Willis' 
 plantation, near Katley's Ferry, on Pearl River. 
 
 "At 4 o'clcock in the afternoon, after staying on post, 
 and running around over the surrounding country all day, we 
 started to join the main squad at the appointed rendezvous. 
 On coming out from some timber to the main Canton road, — 
 we were twelve miles from Canton, Miss., — and looking up 
 the road toward Willis' place, we saw a body of men. We 
 supposed, of course, that they were our own squad, when 
 behold! they ran up their colors (detailed foraging parties 
 never carry colors), and so we saw at once that we were 
 facing the Johnnies, the first we had seen on our trip, and 
 now were nearly back to Vicksburg, after going to Meridian, 
 Miss., and accomplishing that for which we went, — tearing 
 up railroads. It seemed to me, as I sat on my horse there, 
 and looked at those Johnnies, as if there were a whole divi- 
 sion of them. 
 
 " While we remained in the timber, looking at the John- 
 nies and debating what to do, another regiment went by us 
 on the road, not over twenty rods from where we were. We 
 concluded that the regiment that had passed us were our own 
 men, and decided to give the enemy the best we had, and 
 then vamoose ; so we rode up to the fence and fired all at once. 
 I tell you we shook them up terribly. 
 
 " We kept up a lively fire for a time, and then became 
 bold. With a dash we rode up to the Johnnies, — about four 
 or five regiments, — and demanded their surrender, telling 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I4I 
 
 them that our troops were just coming out of the woods. 
 One of our boys, Dan Buckley, of the 14th Iowa, was espe- 
 cially bold. Riding up to an Alabama colonel, he placed a 
 revolver to the colonel's head, and said: 
 
 " ' Surrender, you rascal! ' 
 
 " Of course the colonel accepted the inevitable and sur- 
 rendered. We were just thinking what we would do with 
 our prey until we could get assistance, — sixteen men against 
 6,000, — when to our mortification the supposed Federal 
 troops which passed us in the woods came up, proving to be 
 the 56th Alabama Johnnies. 
 
 " ' Now, then,' said our Alabama colonel, whom we had 
 just taken prisoner, 'who has the trump card? No more of 
 your Yankee tomfoolery, — give us your guns.' 
 
 " * I — I — beg your pardon, colonel,' said Buckley. 
 
 "'Not much; there's no pardon for audacity of your 
 kind,' returned the colonel. ' I guess you're destined for 
 Andersonvllle, where, sure enough, we did go, and thence to 
 Florence, where we remained over nine months." 
 
 "The bursting of that gun, in the incident previous to the 
 last," said Mr. H. H. Armstead, " has called up an incident 
 at the battle of Nashville, where we dispersed Hood's arm_v. 
 
 " The Johnnies had been throwing shells into our vicinity, 
 and it began to be somewhat dangerous where I was. The 
 boys had been very fortunate in dodging shells, but finally one 
 of the cavalrymen near us, — his name was J. M. A. — became 
 separated from his company, and his horse began to plunge 
 and rear. The horse had just avoided two or three shells, 
 but finally he turned his head to the left and one struck 
 him in the shoulder, plowing clear through him, and taking 
 him with great force from under the rider, who was left 
 uninjured, except that his clothes were torn, and he received 
 a few slight bruises from the saddle, as it passed from under 
 him." 
 
142 CAMP-EIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "Hold on, boys! give us a rest on tlie stories. I feel like 
 singing. All pitch in:" 
 
 
 I feel like, I feei like, I feel ; I feel like, I feel like, I feel. 
 
 (Sing that 1,000 times for the first verse. Sing it 2,000 times for the second 
 verse, and so on. When you have sung a hundred verses, stop and rest before 
 you start on the 101st verse.) 
 
 "What kind of a song is that? you say. Why! it^s a 
 condensed song — compressed — a good deal in it — like the 
 desiccated vegetables." 
 
 "Here is something that we used to eat during the war," 
 said a veteran, and he held up a piece of something that ap- 
 peared precisely like a plug of "navy tobacco" an inch or 
 more thick, and about fourteen inches square. 
 
 " It looks (as has just been observed) like a huge piece 
 of tobacco, and oftentimes t^.e boys would have readily 
 traded pieces of it for ka/f its, ^velght in that luxury. The 
 designation donated to it by the War Department was ' dessi- 
 cated vegetables;' but the bof-s changed it to 'desecrated,' 
 which we thought more appropriate, for soldiers delight to 
 call things by ttT&ir right names. The statement may seem 
 strange, but we actually made soup of the stuff of which I hold 
 a sample in my hand, even though people not acquainted 
 with the substance be unable to guess its use from appearance. 
 Yes, my dear comrades, you all remember how many a 
 mess we've had from this material. I remember one inci- 
 dent connected with its introduction among us/'' 
 
 The speaker here tossed the piece of pressed vegetables 
 to the S. P. U. H., arid after a casual scrutiny it was placed 
 under close scientific analysis, and was found to contain the 
 following ingredients: 
 
 1. Onions, with husks on. 
 
 2. Potatoes, prepared to be cooked in three styles. 
 
 ^. Corn, with no particular pains taken to omit the cobs. 
 
CAMP-FIRK CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 143 
 
 4. Beans, strung, unstrung, Boston, shelled, unshellcd, 
 and otherwise. 
 
 5. Cabbages, leaves, head, stalk and roots. 
 
 6. Tomatoes, dried, with an occasional vine hung on; 
 though the latter was not necessary, and hence not always 
 appended. This last observation will also apply to the roots 
 of cabbages and husks of onions. 
 
 7. Sweet potatoes, occasionally a small piece, being very 
 scarce and expensive. The vines were unattached to this 
 ingredient. 
 
 8. Parsnips, the previous year's growth, which were 
 strictly fibrous, and unable to be masticated. 
 
 9. Pumpkins, the cow variety. 
 
 10. Lettuce, radishes, parsley, celery, garlic, squash, 
 horseradish, carrots, asparagus, mustard, and all other vege- 
 tables and semi-vegetables not included in the foregoing list. 
 If anything in the vegetable line was not represented in each 
 piece, it was not the fault of the manufacturers. It is said to 
 be recorded that at one time a purse was made up among the 
 boys, to be given to one who could name something which 
 could not be found in these pieces of " desecrated vegetables.'* 
 After numerous guesses the task was given up, and the purse 
 had to be distributed among the original donors. 
 
 The ingredients were first dried separately, then pressed 
 and dried together, then compressed and redried, until they 
 occupied the smallest space possible. In their primary condi- 
 tion, fresh from the vines, three or four of these chunks of 
 vegetables, 14x14x11^ inches, would make nearly a wagon 
 load of produce. After compressing and drying they could 
 almost be put into a peck measure. They were mixed to- 
 gether without much regard for quality or proportion, then 
 cut into pieces of regular size, as before stated. 
 
 But after all the hard things that were said about « dessi- 
 cated vegetables," they proved a boon to the army, though 
 
144 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 they did not appear as a part of the regular rations until 1864. 
 When they were issued, they supplied a real meal, since fresh 
 vegetables could not be obtained under any circumstances 
 during the winter months. By compressing the vegetables 
 they could be shipped and handled with more facility, but a 
 single incident will illustrate how some of the cooks were for- 
 getful of the swelling principle in such vegetables as beans, 
 rice, etc. 
 
 " When < dessicated vegetables' were first issued to us, I 
 remember," continuedl'the speaker, " one cake was dealt out 
 to each company as vegetable rations for three days. This 
 preparation at first sight did not look very palatable, and 
 when it was passed to the respective messes (numbering 
 six to eight in each mess) the boys respectively and respect- 
 fully refused to eat any of this universal succotash, even if 
 the cooks were willing to serve it. 
 
 " On the other hand, the cooks for each mess refused to 
 use it, and so the whole cake went the rounds without being 
 broken, until it came at last, to our mess, which numbered six 
 of as venturesome fellows as any company in the regiment 
 could boast. Our cook, a fellow by the name of Leander 
 Turner, also refused to have anything to do with the new 
 style of vegetable, since all the boys had come to the con- 
 clusion that, if they would give it a positive letting alone, the 
 quartermaster would not issue it any more. 
 
 " But we told our cook to fix it up, whatever the results- 
 we wanted to see what it would look like. Accordingly he 
 gratified us. He took the regular ten-gallon camp kettle, 
 nearly filled it with water, saying as he did so: 
 
 "' Well, let's try some soup from the fodder,' and he put 
 the whole cake into the kettle of boiling water. Ere long 
 the beans began to swell, the rice grains to grow larger, the 
 dried corn extended its dimensions, and the other vegetables 
 began to resume something of their original proportions; it is 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 145 
 
 to be held in mind that this was only the beginnings though 
 the 196 cubic inches of dried and pressed vegetables even at 
 this time had absorbed most of the water, and were creeping 
 over the sides of the kettle, having already pushed out into 
 the fire a huge piece of meat, which had been put into the 
 kettle before the vegetables had been put in. 
 
 "'What in thunder Ml I do with all this darn truck?' 
 asked the cook, as the vegetables kept on coming out of the 
 top of the ten-gallon kettle, and gave unmistakable evidence 
 that they were burning in the bottom. 
 
 "'Jim, bring anuther kittle,' he said, speaking to the 
 waiter boy. 
 
 " The boy brought another kettle, which was partly filled 
 with water, and enough vegetables were taken from the first 
 kettle and placed in it until the second kettle, too, was full. 
 Then more water was put into the first kettle. But the cook 
 had again miscalculated, for all of the water poured in the 
 first time had been absorbed by less than half of the dried 
 vegetables, so that there was almost as much cause for swell- 
 ing the second time as the first. Add to this the fact that the 
 kettle was already dry and almost red-hot in the bottom 
 so that as soon as possible water was poured in again, and 
 when it had time to penetrate to the bottom, sufficient 
 steam was immediately generated to bring about only one 
 result — a terrific explosion, sufficiently loud to scare the cook 
 near unto death, and cause most of those who heard it to 
 start for their arms, while the manner in which it fared w^ith 
 the vegetables in the kettle can be summed up in a few 
 words: The cook had drawn, in that one small piece of 
 ' desecrated vegetables,' sufficient rations for one hundred 
 men, three days for dinner, or in other words, three hundred 
 meals; and when it came to putting the entire cake though 
 small, into a ten-gallon kettle, with sufficient water to swell 
 the ingredients into eatable shape, this was one of the physi- 
 
146 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 cal impossibilities ; so that at the time the explosion occurred, 
 the vegetables had again risen to the top of the kettle, and 
 consequently were scattered in the air, most of them, how- 
 ever, falling back into the kettle, and like a slumbering vol- 
 cano, were soon ready for another explosion. 
 
 " But the cook rallied his courage, made for the kettle, 
 and in his strength of madness, kicked the thing several 
 feet from the fire, with the angry expression: 
 
 ' Darn that Yankee stuff, anyhow ; drat my gizzard if 
 you'll get me to cook any more of it. I've cooked lots o' 
 vegetables in my time, but I'll be dad burned if I ever saw 
 anything that would swell twic't and then bust,' which ended 
 the scene. 
 
 " We did not eat any from that cooking, but when the 
 boys became accustomed to ' dessicated vegetables ' we often 
 had a fine pan of soup from a small piece of the preparation, 
 which, no doubt, helped to keep away scurvy." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XL 
 
 SLTLERS QUARTERMASTERS MULES HOW RICH A SOL- 
 DIER MUST BE TO BUY ANYTHING FROM A SUTLER 
 
 THE PROFITS IN THE GOVERNMENT APPOINTMENT OF 
 
 QUARTERMASTER ON A REGULAR SALARY EUI OG Y 
 
 ON THE SUTLER AND THE ARMY MULE. 
 
 tN this commercial age handsome returns are often real- 
 ized from occupations where there has been very moder- 
 ^ ate investment, and apparently very little business trans- 
 acted. There are also other instances in which a great 
 amount of business is done on a regular salary, without any 
 investment; but still these operatives become suddenly pros- 
 perous. And this latter condition of things has existed in 
 other periods than the present. Mail routes have not been 
 the only source of gain in the history of the United States 
 patronage. Even the patriotism of twenty years ago was 
 not unmixed w ith that enemy of human happiness — avarice. 
 The gallantry of the patriotic quartermasters who so bravely 
 volunteered to live for their country and undergo all the priva 
 tions necessitated by a full supply train, will ever be treasured 
 in memory. There were also other patriots who, in the 
 hour of the country's need, kindly consented to take govern- 
 ment contracts for furnishing coffee and other articles of food. 
 But alas! some accident must have occurred, especially to the 
 coffee. While that was being ground, before the govern- 
 ment took it ill charge, it Is pr(jbable that the section of floor 
 in the room just above the hopper suddenly gave way and let 
 down into the grinder a quantity of peas and chicory, which 
 
 H7 
 
148 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 incidentally had been stored above it. Owing to the great 
 demand for ground coffee there could be no time lost in stop- 
 ping the mills to take out the peas and chicory. No one 
 was to blame. The millers could not stop to repair the loss 
 from the accident; the proprietors, who held the contracts, 
 were too busy with something else — buying cotton in the 
 South, and smuggling it through, purchasing and stocking 
 Western farms at a million dollars apiece, and establishing 
 extensive seed houses in the East. Truly they were men of 
 great minds, and could not attend to details. 
 
 But it is the devotion of the quartermasters which is 
 now to be lamented. Could the eloquent army mule get up 
 from his grave and give forth his reminiscence, how many 
 times would he say that he had been driven off, recaptured, 
 and sold again to the government? Could each extra ration 
 due the soldier speak, how far would it say that it missed its 
 destination? However, the quartermasters were not respon- 
 sible for the vagaries of the rations and of the mules; though 
 in tliis connection it is a little difficult to see just why these 
 officers were so prosperous after the war, when the majority 
 of them were nearly penniless before; how a man with a 
 family, in moderate circumstances, could accumulate a compe- 
 tence on a salary of $124.00 per month,* paying war prices 
 for everything. It was no moral wrong to be a quarter- 
 master, but the source of profit in the business was never ac- 
 counted for until the Society for the Preservation of Unpub- 
 lished History learned the following from one of them. 
 
 One evening after the adjournment of a camp-fire, the so- 
 ciety was invited to become the guests of a qaurtermaster. 
 Of course they accepted such a pleasure. From the camp- 
 fire they were conveyed in an easy carriage to a fine portion 
 
 ♦Besides a liberal allowance of rations, etc. For pay-roll, uniforms, discipline, 
 etc., and much interestinaf information concerning- armies, see Revised Re adulations of 
 the United States Army, to be found in any well-appointed public library. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. I49 
 
 r 
 
 ' of a thriving city. They were driven up to a large brown- 
 stone front on the south side of the street, surrounded by a 
 neat and spacious lawn, with an aristocratic air about the 
 whole home. As the society advanced up the fashionable 
 stone walk, and the bright moonlight outlined the mansion 
 and its surroundings, and they beheld the sphinx-like figures 
 crouching on the banister, in the dim gas-light from the hall, 
 they almost wished they had been quartermasters. 
 
 In the morning after a rich breakfast, which made them 
 feel that it was a decided advantage to accept invitations like 
 the one of the previous evening,.^ — they were shown about 
 the premises. The house was furnished richly within, well- 
 suiting its outward beauty ; and when the society congratu- 
 lated the quartermaster on his comfortable abode, he said : 
 
 " Come into my cellar," which was accordingly done, be- 
 cause the historians suspected something. 
 
 " Here," said the quartermaster, " is some that is twenty 
 years old — fine old Bourbon. Smack your lips on that." 
 
 With true historical skill, after a comparison of dates 
 which was not uttered, the S. P. U. H. simply, but forcibly re- 
 plied : 
 
 " Well, we are total abstinence; but whenever we do take 
 anything, it is Invariably twenty -year-old Bourbon." 
 
 When the party were again in the open air, the society 
 inquired of the quartermaster what he did to pass away his 
 declining days. 
 
 "Oh!" he laughed, "I 'tend to the farm, and look after 
 my place here, and loan a little money once in awhile." 
 
 If the S. P. U. H. had been a little better acquainted, and 
 could have given security, they would probably have asked 
 the good quartermaster to loan them a little " for a few 
 days," as they were no richer than other historians and penny- 
 a-liners; but as it was, they concluded to keep up their accus- 
 tomed dignity, and only interrogated: 
 
150 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "How did you get your start, Mr. Quartermaster?" as 
 they felt a sudden desire to have a simihar experience. 
 
 "Oh! " said he, " I am getting old now (forty-eight years) 
 and I have been a good while at it — every old man ought to 
 be rich in this country; and then I have a very economical 
 wife." 
 
 "Ah, yes!" said the S. P. U. H., glad to note the solution 
 of quartermasters' post-bellum prosperity ; and with the re- 
 flection that nearly all of the economical women in the coun- 
 try must have married quartermasters or government con- 
 tractors, the society took its leave. 
 
 Curiously enough, the subject of quartermasters was 
 brought up that evening at the camp-fire, and also that other 
 similar object of sympathy, the sutler, who was the only 
 man of a regiment permitted to buy goods from the outside 
 world, and retail them to the soldiers at his own price. He 
 was guaranteed the miscellaneous and exclusive patronage of 
 from six hundred to a thousand soldiers, being the poor store- 
 keeper of the regiment, and deserves much pity and memorial. 
 
 In connection with the subject, Mr. A. Lammey, of Com- 
 pany C, 2d Chicago Board of Trade Regiment, said: 
 
 " I was on detached service for a time — in the secret mili- 
 tary police force, or detective service, which was a part of 
 the provost marshal's department. Our work was confined 
 to cities, and we were for sometime in the city of Nashville^ 
 We generally knew what was going on ' behind the scenes,' 
 and often had considerable sport seeking out offenders, arrest- 
 ing them, and putting them into prison. At one time we 
 caught the post quartermaster, Capt. Charles Irwin. i do 
 not remember who was the special plaintiff, but I know that 
 Irwin was sued by the government for $2,000,000. His trial 
 did not come off for two or three years, and I think it was 
 compromised, as I never heard or read anything of it after- 
 ward, though I watched for it. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 151 
 
 " But that was not what I was going to say. We had 
 communication with the quartermaster's department, and be- 
 ing a branch of the provost guard, we sometimes did special 
 duty, adjusted adverse claims, and settled disputes by arrest- 
 ing suspicious parties, and bringing them to justice. So I came 
 to know of a case where a sutler was punished for the exorbi- 
 tant prices he charged. 
 
 " This was at the battle of Stone River. Lager beer had 
 been pretty scarce for sometime, and the sutler had not been 
 able to furnish it. Finally he succeeded in getting twenty 
 kegs, and began to retail it out to the boys at ten cents a 
 glass. The boys were all thirsty for the beverage, and the 
 result was that the sutler had to have two or three assistants. 
 Half the beer was soon gone, and it was evident that the re- 
 mainder would not last long. 
 
 " To save the beer and still make a good profit, the sutler 
 put up the price to twenty cents a glass. But this did not 
 seem to check the demand, and the beer flowed as fast as 
 ever. Then the sutler concluded to make the price be felt, as 
 he knew the difiiculty of getting any more beer at any price, 
 so he raised the price to thirty cents per glass. Some of the 
 boys now stopped drinking, and the others remonstrated at the 
 price, but still kept buying. There were now only six kegs 
 left, and this being deemed insufficient for the demand, the 
 sutler raised the price this time to forty cents per glass. But 
 it seemed that the boys were determined to drink up all that 
 beer, though the majority had given up the luxury. Then 
 the price was again raised. It took Jifty cents to purchase a 
 glass of that beer! Then came ihejinale. 
 
 " The boys at once held an indignation meeting, and de- 
 manded the sutler to lower the price of his goods. This the 
 merchant man refused to do, saying that he would get fifty cents 
 per glass for what beer he had left, or he would drink it all 
 himself. 
 
52 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " 'All light,' said one of the boys, ' if you don't come to 
 reasonable terms, you will soon wish you had. We will give 
 you twenty-five cents a glass for what beer you have left.' 
 
 " ' Not much ! ' replied the sutler — ' I'll have fifty cents a 
 glass for that beer, or I'll not sell you a drop.' 
 
 " This settled it. Night soon came on. The boys were 
 already decided as to their course of action. When all was 
 quiet around the camp, one of them took the end of a long 
 rope which the rest had provided for him, and crawling 
 quietly down toward the sutler's tent, fixed it to the end of 
 the wagon tongue. The other boys then began to pull 
 quietly, but surely, and soon the wagon began to move mys- 
 teriously up a high hill near by. The soldier who fastened 
 the rope to the wagon, then crept into it, took out the rear 
 end-gate, and as the wagon moved up the hill, he threw 
 out a keg of beer here, and a box of provisions, candies or 
 tobacco there, and a barrel of crackers a little further on, 
 until the entire contents, about $1,500 worth of goods in 
 all, were scattered along the hillside When the wagon 
 reached the crest of the hill, it was empty. The soldiers 
 then started it down the other side, and it did not stop for 
 half a mile. 
 
 " It did not require a great deal of time for the goods to 
 disappear, and after a general jollification and distribution of 
 the sutler's effects, the soldiers turned in to their tents, but 
 not before they had taken a liberal amount to the colonel's 
 tent, including half a barrel of fine butter crackers. 
 
 " In the morning the unfortunate sutler made a wonder- 
 fully close search for his goods, but of course found nothing. 
 He at once appealed to the colonel, and demanded the arrest 
 of the whole regiment. But before he finished speaking, he 
 noticed the crackers in the colonel's tent. 
 
 " ' Yes,' he said, ' and here you have half a barrel of my 
 crackers,' and the sutler undertook to take possession of them. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 1 53 
 
 " ' Drop that barrel this very second,' interfered the colo- 
 nel, 'or I'll put a bullet right through your stingy carcass!' 
 and he drew his revolver to show that he meant business. 
 
 " The sutler dropped the crackers, but began : 
 
 " ' Well, I'll have my own property, or have you all ar- 
 rested.' 
 
 " ' That is not your property,' returned the colonel. 
 ' Those crackers were a present to me, and I mean to keep 
 them. Hands ofF! ' 
 
 " ' No they ain'tj' the sutler replied, — ' the cussed thieves 
 stc.^e 'em from me last night.' 
 
 " ' That makes no difference to me — these crackers were 
 given to me with the compliments of my regiment, aivl I 
 mean to keep them. I don't care where they came from.' 
 
 " ' You're all a set of d — d robbers,' said the sutler — ' take 
 a poor man's property away from him, and then shoot him if 
 he tries to get it back.' 
 
 *' ' Silence! ' roared the colonel, ' or I'll fill you full of cold 
 lead, you avaricious hound ! Out with you, and never show 
 your stingy face again at headquarters! Charge ten prices for 
 your goods, cheat all you can, and squeeze every cent from 
 the soldiers, and then complain if they retaliate! Consider 
 your commission withdrawn, and never show yourself here 
 again ! ' 
 
 " It is needless to say that the sutler did not set up another 
 stock with that regiment, and he was not the first sutler who 
 v/as served in a similar way by oppressed soldiers." 
 
 There were three cheers for the Stone River colonel after 
 this story, and then Capt. John O. Pullen delivered the fol- 
 lowing grandiloquent eulogium on the sutler and the army 
 mule: 
 
 " Comrades, you have heard in every Fourth-of-July ora- 
 tion of the ' Volunteer Soldiery,' the ' Loyal Women,' 'Vet- 
 erans of the Grand Army,' of the 'Rank and File,' and obitu- 
 
154 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 aries to the ' Unknown' who were left, bearing their insignia 
 of rank across the river — only their vaUant deeds their 
 vouchers. 
 
 " But, comrades, it is for me to tell to-night of the truly 
 loyal sutler and the patriotism of the army mule; and I am 
 glad that the Society for the Preservation of Unpublished 
 Histor}^ is here to chronicle my remarks. The sutler, unlike 
 Artemus Ward, who was ' willing to sacrifice all his wife's 
 relations for his country ' — took his own life in his — 
 pocket, and went forth to dare or die, that he might live. 
 
 " It is fitting, my comrades, that the sutler should be 
 placed first in this sentiment, as his loyalty — heretofore unap- 
 preciated by those learned in the art of war — is demonstrated 
 by his valorous chivalry in always being at the front in the 
 grand charge — for canned fruit and ' Scheidam Schnapps.' 
 
 " Wlio so loyal as our sutler, when he met us at the pay- 
 master's table, and there by written testimonials convinced us of 
 his willingness to take charge of all the pay Uncle Samuel 
 had so liberally donated to us, and send the same home to his 
 little ones! Who so loyal, as when our sutler, at the sound 
 of the retreat, would appropriate all the contrabands, and 
 press into service all stragglers, for the removal of his stores 
 to a place of safety — thereby demonstrating that it was for 
 Uncle Sam's volunteer soldiery that his loyal heart was beat- 
 ing? Who so loyal as the sutler, when the Southern Con- 
 federacy acknowledged the collapse, and by his counsel, and 
 on the stump, and through the public press he denounced the 
 squandering of the nation's wealth, either as bount}'' or pen- 
 sions upon the ' hirelings ' who had taken their lives in their 
 hands, 'and gone forth to battle, that a nation might live?' 
 
 " Truly, the loyalty of the sutler of the volunteer army 
 shines equal to the electric light of the present times, and 
 while the brillianc}^ of the loyalty of the sutler is so tran- 
 scendent, that pure sparkle in the eye of our army mule, with 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. I55 
 
 its liquid fire of loving patriotism, surmounts the illuminating 
 deeds of ' Sherman's Bummers.' 
 
 " Our army mule's patriotism far exceeded that of the 
 numan race; an animal with no ancestors to vindicate, or 
 posterity to protect; an individuality unknown in civilized war- 
 fare until the 'late unpleasantness'! The first we learn of 
 this purely patriotic beast is in divine history, when the gre;i!- 
 ^reat-great-grand-dam of his step-brother's sire is record cci 
 as saving the life of one of the great leaders of the warfare 
 of that (lay, by holding a conversation with an authorized 
 agent from the Great Commander' of the Universe, in a walled 
 lane, whereby she saved her master from the sword by hei 
 perceptive faculty and vocal ability. 
 
 " Our patriotic mule's only quasi paternity known tG 
 fame is that of the great-great-grand-sire of his step-sister, 
 when, as also recorded in divine history, an eminent warrior 
 took the musical portion of his anatomy, and slew a thousand 
 Philistines. 
 
 " It is quite probable that these two demonstrations of the 
 vocal ability of these senior kindred ancestors so discouraged 
 this race by non-appreciation, that they were lost to history 
 until there came the call for volunteer soldiery. Then the 
 commotion counnenced, and the cry went forth for trans, 
 portation. 
 
 "Down in the ' blue grass' region, from that soil upor, 
 which the great commander-in-chief of all the American 
 armies first saw the light of life, came forth also Balaam's 
 faithful servant of yore, — this patriotic volunteer, ready to 
 bear the greatest burdens and support a tottering nation in its 
 trying ordeal for life. 
 
 " When this demonstrative patriot came forth, bestrided 
 by the ' great mogul ' of the army, that talented linguist, — he 
 to whom all of the army were subservient, the Jehu, — as he 
 threw his leg over the 'oflF cuss,' and pulled the check line; do 
 
156 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 you remember, comrades, how those little fellows in the lead 
 who had known no service, twinkled their eyes' and wriggled 
 their ears in anticipation of becoming a prominent force in 
 maintaining the dignity of this great republic; and then when 
 the welcome sound was vibrated from hill top to hill top, 
 and came rushing through the valleys, ' I'se coming! ! I'se 
 coming I ! !' and the cracker line was opened? And do you 
 likewise remember, as in the exuberance of joy you caressed 
 this patriot, how he, with his pathetic acknowledgement, 
 winked and blinked his eye and wagged his ear? I tell you, 
 comrades, such history must and will be preserved. 
 
 "But the order of * About — face!' came, — then the trouble 
 commenced. Our inule was par excellence^ the true ideal of 
 independence, of pluck, of endurance, and of power; always 
 ready to advance with the usual speed as dictated by his 
 judgment, but always adverse to a retreat, as requiring too 
 much haste and accompanying excitement, which caused a 
 contraction of the nerves along the spinal column, and made a 
 rear view a decidedly precarious position to maintain. It was 
 clearly demonstrated that his majesty, the army mule, instead 
 of the cowardly eagle, should have been selected as our 
 national bird of freedom. 
 
 " While with the critical judge he would hardly compare 
 with the king of the forest, or ' Mary's little lamb,' neverthe- 
 less he is an animal of imposing presence and commanding 
 great respect from the rear. 
 
 "When at the close of the war at the grand review in 
 Washington, who demonstrated his patriotism so loudly as the 
 veteran army mule? — standing at the street corners, and nod- 
 ding his head from left to right, calling your attention to the 
 scars of war from collar-gall to breeching-blister, and articu 
 lating in his sadly musical voice: 
 
 " ' Good-bye, my lover, good-bye.' " 
 
CAMP-FIRE XII. 
 
 BUSHWHACKING WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES DO WITH CASES 
 
 A JEST ON GEN. A. J. SMITH — FORAGING. 
 
 ;ERHAPS the most inexcusable practice in all the Civil 
 War was that of "bushwhacking." The " bushwhacker" 
 was not a soldier, but a cowardly, contemptible battle- 
 man who never carried on hostilities unless he was unopposed. 
 His name portrays his true character. He generally prided 
 himself on his skill in playing his roJe. Around the flanks 
 of armies, on the march and in the camp, could be seen his 
 suspicious figure peddling sundry goods to the soldiers during 
 the day, — much to the disgust of the sutler,— and at night he 
 would lie in ambush to kill some unguarded traveler, simply 
 for the plunder he could obtain. 
 
 The " bushwhacker " was somewhat similar to the guer- 
 illa, except that he sometimes had a smooth side to his char- 
 acter, which would permit him to walk among the soldiers 
 in daylight, and acquire such information as would aid his 
 despicable designs at night. Again, he never grew bold, like 
 the guerilla, but generally perambulated alone in thickets and 
 obscure places, invariably keeping near a safe retreat. How- 
 ever, there is one consolation in the recollection of him, even 
 though it was the result of selfishness; iie was broad-minded 
 in his theft, stealing from all armies alike, yet like the moun- 
 taineers of old, he " never took anything which he could not 
 carry off." 
 
 But his marksmanship was good. Many a poor sentinel 
 w'ho went forth to die in the front ranks of a great battle in 
 
158 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 the war, found an unprovoked and untimely death at the 
 instance of a " bushwhacker's " musket, with nothing but the 
 quiet stars to witness the atrocity- 
 It is beneath the dignity of the Society for the Preserva- 
 tion of Unpublished History to place in its honored annals 
 any panegyric on the "bushwhacker"; but he was a part of 
 the war, just as vermin were a part of prison pens, and for 
 once the S. P. U. H. felt like calling itself the "Society for 
 the Persecution of Unhung Heroes." However, an incident 
 by Mr. S. W. Rodgers of the 113th Ohio Volunteer Infantry 
 will show how the " bushwhacker " sometimes received his 
 desert : 
 
 " While a portion of the army was lying at Franklin, 
 Tenn., in the spring of 1863, a number of Johnnies were 
 encamped at Spring Hill, only six miles distant. There had 
 been considerable skirmishing between the two armies, and 
 bushwhacking on all sides; and a certain picket post in Grass 
 Creek valley, just where the skirmish I'ne crossed the stream, 
 was being molested continually. 
 
 " Accordingly one night, a brave, stout young fellow was 
 posted there, who was thought equal to any emergency. He 
 kept quiet for a time, but finally perfected a scheme in his 
 mind to entrap the wary bushwhacker who disturbed the 
 place. He made the outline of a man with some sticks, then 
 threw an old coat over the frame, and with a long stick as a 
 substitute for a gun at support, the bogus sentinel was ready 
 to receive the bushwhacker's bullet. 
 
 " There were two or three other boys besides the sentinel 
 waiting to assist in capturing the bushwhacker, if their aid 
 should be needed. All hands were not much more than 
 well hidden before ' Whang!' went the bushwhacker's bullet 
 through the supposed sentinel at his post. At the crack of 
 the gun, the young fellow who had been ordered to the post 
 started on a lively race through the brush, and before he had 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 1 59 
 
 gone many yards he succeeded in overtaking the busn- 
 whacker, and laid his strong arm on him. 
 
 " ' Come on, boys,' called the sentinel to his comrades 
 * I've caught the rascal ! ' 
 
 " The bushwhacker had not a word to say. He was 
 taken to a spot where the moonlight could shine full in his 
 face, and was found to be a person who lived near the camp, 
 and had peddled pies, milk, bread and cakes to the soldiers 
 that very day. He had preached sometimes in the neighbor- 
 hood, and pretended to cover his dark career with the meek 
 and lowly garb of Christianity. But alas! 
 
 " ' Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again : 
 
 The eternal years of God are hers ; 
 But Error, wounded, writhes with pain. 
 
 And dies among his worshipers.' 
 
 " The result was that summary punishment was meter! 
 out to this despicable man at the hands of the outraged 
 soldiers." 
 
 There was another class of preachers with the army, how- 
 ever, who were somewhat more sincere in their duties, as the 
 following will show: 
 
 " There were but few comrades in Kilpatrick's cavalry 
 who did not know Chaplain Cartwright, of the 92d Illinois, 
 for he was one of those men who are always doing some- 
 thing to help the condition of the boys. I remember when 
 he first joined the regiment at Franklin, Tenn. He seemed 
 to be boiling over to assist the boys, and many a surviving 
 comrade can testify to the untiring efforts of Father Cart- 
 wright in alleviating their sufferings while lying in a hospital 
 tent, or upon the march. 
 
 " The first march we took after he joined us was from 
 Franklin, Tenn., to Triune. It was in the spring of the year. 
 The sun shone brightly, and the boys were loaded down with 
 wi.lrer clothing, which they soon threw by the roadside, some 
 
l6o CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 casting off everything except their ponchos. The good old 
 chaplain came riding along, and seeing so many blankets, 
 blouses, shirts, etc., jumped off his horse and began to pack 
 the animal with these various articles of clothing, saying to 
 himself, ' My boys will be glad to get these articles when 
 they go into camp to-night. If I only knew to whom tney 
 belonged, I would take them to their tents.' 
 
 " The aged man trudged along all day, leading his horse, 
 and when he came into camp that night, his old horse looked 
 like a traveling pawnshop. It is needless to say that the 
 faithful chaplain had no trouble whatever in finding owners 
 for every article of value, — in fact, he could have disposed of 
 an army wagon load. A smile lit up his countenance while 
 the boys were unloading the horse, and he remarked that he 
 wished he had a cargo to give them, for he found the reward 
 for his labor in the gratitude that was visible on every face." 
 
 A soldier in the (late) command of Gen. A. J. Smith, 
 who well understood the General's character, then told this; 
 
 "In December, 1862, while Sherman's army was moving 
 down the Mississippi River on transports to attack the Con- 
 federate stronghold at Vicksburg, the supply of fuel became 
 somewhat limited, and we were obliged to obtain that neces- 
 sary article wherever opportunity offered, sometimes at a 
 deserted wood-yard, at other times from the dry rail fences of 
 tile rich plantations which were too tempting for the pilots to 
 pass by. 
 
 " These occasions were hailed with joy by. the men, as 
 they were enabled to leave the close quarters on board for a 
 ramble upon terra Jirma; and although they were required 
 to assist in ' toting' the wood or rails to the steamer, few, if 
 any, held back, but all were anxious to get what little exer- 
 cise such occasions afforded. 
 
 " On one of these halts, the steamboat which was partly 
 occupied as the headquarters of Gen. A. J. Smith, whose many 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. l6l 
 
 eccentricities were widely known througliout the division, 
 effected a landing immediately in front of a beautiful planta- 
 tion, upon the right bank of the river. The plantation house, 
 one of those grand old Southern homes, was situated about 
 forty rods back from the river, with a beautiful lawn gently 
 sloping down to the bank, studded with semi-tropical trees 
 and foliage plants, while at one side in the rear of the house 
 were the outbuildings, around which were plainly seen a 
 large number of chickens and larger poultry, which were 
 the only animate objects to be seen upon the premises. 
 
 *' I presume that every old soldier will bear me witness 
 that there is nothing in their experience which so sharpens a 
 man's appetite for chicken as a few days' steady diet of hard 
 tack and bacon, and the men upon the General's boat were 
 no exception to the rule; hence as they filed off the boat after 
 rails, occasionally a man was seen to visit the neighborhood 
 of the above-mentioned out-buildings, and when he returned 
 with several rails upon his shoulder, a large protuberance 
 was noticeable under the breast of his overcoat. 
 
 " While standing upon the upper deck of the boat. Gen- 
 eral Smith had noticed a commotion among the chickens, and 
 immediately his ire was aroused to a towering height. He 
 descended to the boiler deck with all promptness and gusto, 
 and with drawn sword in his hand, re.quired the men as thev 
 came on board to unbutton their overcoats and surrender their 
 coveted plunder. In a very few minutes there were lying at 
 the General's feet some dozens of chickens, while his eye 
 showed that he keenly enjoyed the disappointment of the men 
 who reluctantly relinquished their prizes at his stern command. 
 
 ' Presently a man came on board, bringing an unusually 
 large load of rails, whose coat had the appearance of the 
 others who had come to grief. 
 
 "*What have you under your coat?' gruffly demanded 
 the General. 
 II 
 
l63 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " ' Well, General, if it makes no difference to you, I had 
 rather not tell.' 
 
 " * Uitbutton your coat^ sir ! ' 
 
 " * I had rather not, General.' 
 
 " Raising his sword in a threatening attitude, the General 
 yelled at the top of his voice: 
 
 "'Unbutton your coat! d n you, or I'll open it 
 
 for you ! ' 
 
 " The soldier now saw that the General meant business, 
 and in all meekness replied: 
 
 " « Well, General, if I must I musty and in a hesitating 
 manner he slowly unbuttoned his coat, when, to the General's 
 surprise and great disgust, there dropped down a huge billet 
 of stove wood. 
 
 " * Sold, by G df ' said the General, and he turned on 
 
 his heel, walked up into his cabin, and left the boys to enjoy 
 their chickens as best they could." 
 
 [It was with some hesitation and considerable disturbance 
 of the finer feelings of the Society for the Preservation of 
 Unpublished History, that they consented to place any pro- 
 fanity upon their sacred scroll ; but it was argued that this 
 dialect was so very characteristic of some soldiers and officers 
 that their quoted language would be incomplete without it. 
 When, however, in the course of human events it becomes 
 necessary for the society in its diction to contend with these 
 useless expressions, their historic minds revert to a lecture 
 once given by a prominent but profane general in the war, 
 who was indeed superabundant in his profanity. The gen- 
 eral was a very interesting speaker, and proceeded to the 
 delight of the audience until near the close. He related many 
 humorous incidents in the earlier part of his discourse, and 
 finally came to the pathetic side of army life. He told of the 
 sufferings in the prison pens, and of the touching experiences 
 there. Then he came to " homesickness," and remembered 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 163 
 
 an incident oi' a young soldier who had been in camp for 
 some time along the malarial Chickahominy, and longed to 
 return home. The soldier had fully realized the hardships of 
 war, and could well repeat Longfellow's sweet " Psalm of 
 Life." The general here thought he would give the words, 
 and believing that he had the " Psalm of Life " so well com- 
 ir.itted to memory, he allowed his mind to wander on in the 
 course of his lecture, while he trusted his vocal organs, un- 
 thoughtfuUy, to pronounce it. 
 
 " • Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 
 Life is but a d d dream,' 
 
 said the vocal organs, much to the astonishment of the gen- 
 eral's ears and all others who heard the mistaken utterance. 
 Well understanding the general's character, the audience 
 burst into applause. When the merriment subsided, the gen- 
 eral apologized for his error, and though he had previous!}' 
 prided himself on the forcible and fearless language of his 
 everyday life, he then and there declared that that was the 
 last time he would ever use profane language.] 
 
 The following was then told before the camp-fire, by one 
 of the boys who took part in the experience: 
 
 " On the night of Dec. 31, 1863, two members of our 
 Company, — K, gzd Illinois, — passed the pickets at Hunts- 
 ville, Ala., and started for the Matthews Plantation, to ascer- 
 tain whether any forage was lying around loose. Upon 
 entering the gate several shots were heard in the direction of 
 ihe negro quarters, and we feared that bushwhackers were 
 near, so we made a reconnoissance, and soon discovered that 
 the darkeys had secured some of our metallic cartridges, and 
 were celebrating New Year's eve by throwing them into a 
 bonfire. 
 
 "This was a great relief to us, but while we were talking 
 to the darkeys a new danger threatened. The old gate again 
 
164 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 swung upon its hinges, and eight mounted men came upon 
 us. Of course we thought they were Johnnies, and they 
 passed the same compUment upon us. It was quite dark, so 
 we could not tell from the uniforms whom we were address- 
 ing. They asked us: 
 
 " ' Who are you ? ' 
 
 " ' Yanks,' we said. 
 
 " * Where do you belong? ' 
 
 " ' To the 92d Illinois Infantry; ' then it was our turn, and 
 we asked: 
 
 " 'Who are youP — cavalry from the ist Ohio?' 
 
 " ' Mathematically correct,' they &aid ; ' how did you know 
 it?' 
 
 "* Oh!' we replied, *your regiment went through Hunts- 
 ville to-day.' 
 
 " Then they got off and felt us from head to foot to make 
 sure that we had told them the truth. When they were 
 convinced they asked us again: 
 
 "' Where are you bound for?' 
 
 *' ' Foragin',' we replied. 
 
 "'All right; let's proceed to business, boys,' they said; 
 and in less time than it takes to tell it, we were making 
 selections from a stock of well-cured hams which were stored 
 in the smoke-house. From there we proceeded to the house, 
 upon entering which the Ohio boys began to pillage. I pro- 
 tested; and, being the only person in the crowd who wore a 
 blue overcoat, the folks thought I was an officer, and appealed 
 to me: 
 
 " ' Do you allow your men to commit depredations of this 
 kind?' 
 
 "' No,' I returned, ' 1 would not if I had any control over 
 ^hem.' 
 
 "'Are you an officer?' 
 
 " 'No,' I answered. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 165 
 
 " ' Well, will you regard a protection ? ' 
 
 " ' It depends upon who gives the protection,' I said. 
 
 « ' Colonel Alexander,' they replied. 
 
 " By this time the boys were up-stairs, ransacking the 
 house, and I told the folks that I would go up and use my 
 influence to have them stop; and here is how I succeeded: 
 
 " ' Boys,' I said, ' this must be stopped; these folks have 
 a protection from Colonel Alexander, commanding the post 
 at Huntsville.' 
 
 " ' Who in h — 1 is he?'' asked one of the Ohio boys. 
 
 " ' Say, 92d,' said another, ' don't you want some sugar: ' 
 
 " ' No, boys,' I replied, ' I don't want anything when we 
 get it this way.' 
 
 "'Ha! ha! ha!' they laughed, ' you're no forager,' and 
 just then one of them secured a pair of linen pantaloons, tied 
 up the ends of the legs, told the boys to scoop in some sugar, 
 and when it was well filled, he threw it across my shoulders 
 with the remark: 
 
 " ' Here, try some of our best brand of Southern sugar.' 
 
 " I confess that 1 did hump my shoulders a little to keep 
 it from sliding off, and when I thought of taking to camp 
 enough sugar for the whole company, my moral nature gave 
 clear away, and I allowed the pantaloons full of sugar to 
 remain around my neck. 
 
 " We began to depart, one by one. We filed down the 
 stairs, while the family were at the bottom, anxiously await- 
 ing the return of the supposed oflScer. They were in some 
 distress, and as we passed out with our pillage, they began 
 to cry. It was really pitiful, but nevertheless ludicrous, as 
 they began to lament: 
 
 " ' Oh ! there goes poor uncle's boots ! ' 
 
 " ' Yes, an' there goes poor uncle's coat,' said another. 
 
 " * An' there goes poor uncle's hat. Oh I oh ! ' 
 
 '■' ' An' there goes poor uncle's pants,' they said, as I passed 
 
1 66 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 out. ' He's been dead five years, an' ef his sperit knowed what 
 was goin' on, it 'd make him turn over in his grave. Oh ! oh P 
 
 " It is needless to say that I did not stop to report my 
 ucces? in persuading the boys to leave the premises. 
 
 "We now had meat, flour, sugar and coffee; and there 
 were about 150 hives of bees in the yard, so we thought we 
 would take along a little honey. 
 
 "The 1st Ohio boys were veterans at this business, and 
 while I was using my thumb and finger trying to get the 
 honey without being stung, they had filled their vessels. One 
 of them grabbed my hand and said: 
 
 "' See here, 92d, I'll show you how to take honey f and 
 with that he smeared my hands all over with the sticky stuff, 
 and continued: 
 
 " ' Now go in for it.' 
 
 " My comrade and I had two vessels, — an eight-gallon jar 
 and a long butter bowl. We very soon filled these, and 
 were then ready to bid farewell to the Matthews Plantation. 
 I took the jar of honey and ' poor uncle's pants ' full of sugar, 
 and my comrade had the butter bowl full of honey, and some 
 other things. 
 
 " We then said ' Good-bye' to our Ohio companions, and 
 started for Huntsville. The night was very dark. A driz- 
 zling rain set in, and in passing through the woods we lost 
 our way. I got off my horse and felt around for the road, 
 but could not find any. I told my comrade to follow me, 
 and I believed I could come out of the woods all right. 
 We had not gone far, however, before my comrade began to 
 indulge in profanity to an alarming extent. 
 
 " * What's the matter? ' I asked. 
 
 "'Matter! the pommel of my saddle has punched a hole 
 in the bottom of this bowl, and this honey has run all over 
 me! Why, blast my buttons! if the stuff hasn't glued me to 
 my saddle!' 
 
268 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE ClVll. WAR. 
 
 ** t Ha! ha! ha! ' I laughed. 
 
 "' What shall I do? ' he asked angrily 
 
 " ' Why,' I told him, ' if you are glued to your saddle, the 
 only thing you can do is to sit still until I can get you out.' 
 
 "* Curse this foragin' business, anyhow; curse war; curse 
 everything; it all goes wrong,' he said. 
 
 " ' Throw the stuff away,' I suggested ; and with many 
 regrets he flung it against a tree, but this left us eight gal- 
 lons still. 
 
 " We passed on through the woods, and finally reached 
 the picket, who asked us who we were. We told him where 
 we belonged, and that we had been out that day scouting and 
 picking up salt (which was true); that we had got lost from 
 our command. He let us pass, and we reached camp at 4 
 o'clock A. M. We learned that the orders were to march at 
 6 o'clock; but we treated the whole company to the honey 
 and sugar, and I shall never forget how the boys cheered us 
 on the success of our first lesson in foraging." 
 
 " Son J. H." then contended that soldiers were " creatures 
 of circumstance," in the following language: 
 
 " I believe that we are in a very large degree creatures 
 governed by circumstances. This was plainly demonstrated 
 to my mind while I was in the army. I was a boy of but 
 nineteen when I enlisted. My parents very much disliked to 
 have me go, but finally gave their consent if I would go with 
 Mr. S. 
 
 " This Mr. S. had been my school teacher the year before* 
 and I very readily agreed to that; so we went off together 
 with sixteen of the neighborhood boys. 
 
 " The object my parents had in wanting me to go with 
 Mr. S. was two-fold: (i) he was a near neighbor, and (3) 
 they thought his influence would help to keep their son J. in 
 the path of right doing'. All was very well until we were 
 on the march with General Fremont in Missouri. Provisions 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 169 
 
 became very short, and then it was that this son J. (with 
 others) thought about the wicked practice of foraging. For 
 this purpose we visited a hen-house one evening, but alas! 
 how circumstances were against us. We found the door 
 barred, and two large Southern hounds tied on the inside. 
 But, determined not to be outdone, we changed our plan of 
 attack. We concluded for the time to be honest, and go in 
 and ask for some of the chickens. We did so. The old mai\ 
 was very kind and glad to give us two as a reward of merit 
 for being honest and asking for them. 
 
 « Now we went from that hen-house across the way to 
 another where the circumstances were different, — no dogs on 
 the inside, but plenty of fat chickens. We mounted a rail 
 fence which joined the hen-house, and slipping the boards to 
 one side, we put in our honest hand and it brought out eight 
 nice ones. We then went back after the ninth, but an old 
 hen that had been trained gave the alarm, and the circum- 
 stances were such just then that we were obliged to make a 
 hasty departure. 
 
 " From these and other incidents which passed under my 
 observation, I am inclined to believe that we were governed 
 by our circumstances; at least, we rarely attempted to rob a 
 hen-roost when it was guarded by bushwhackers and blood- 
 hounds." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XIII. 
 
 BATTLES UNSUNG BY THE MUSE OP^ HISTORY ORIGIN OF 
 
 THE STARS AND STRIPES GENEALOGY OF GEORGE 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 t AMP-FIRE Thirteen had for its subject the most 
 pathetic part, perhaps, of the whole purpose of the 
 S. P. U. H. — to place garlands of fame upon the 
 brows of unflattered heroes. Accordingly, all who had par- 
 ticipated in battles which had never been chronicled upon the 
 papyrus of history were invited to relieve their minds of any 
 unwritten conflicts which they might remember. 
 
 Thereupon there was at once great confusion in the as- 
 sembly. It almost seemed as though, instead of simply re- 
 lating accounts of these heretofore unheard of battles, the 
 veterans were attempting to act them out! But the disci- 
 pline of the camp was most perfect; and to reduce the chaos 
 to system it was only necessary for the commander, after he 
 secured attention, to suggest that the veterans talk by 
 companies and regiments — one company at a time. Imme- 
 diately there was harmony, and the accustomed good feeling at 
 once returned. 
 
 But the relief was only temporary. It was like a flag of 
 truce or a lull in a great battle in order to bring heavy re- 
 serve forces forward for more regular and telling blows. 
 When this reflection presented itself to the ambassadors 
 from the throne of history, their stock of long-suflfering was 
 at once exhausted. They suddenly recalled the close of 
 the first camp-fire, when all the veterans present were talked 
 
 170 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 171 
 
 to sleep by one man. What would it be now with the ora- 
 torical force so multiplied? Truly, Camp-fire Thirteen was 
 an unlucky number. But the lamb submitted to the slaugh- 
 ter. Lighting a fresh " Havana," which the commissary ot 
 subsistence had thoughtfully provided in plenty, the histori- 
 cal visitors arranged their dignity for the night, while the 
 commander bade his followers begin their work. 
 
 The first step was a motion. It was seconded, where- 
 upon came the resolution : 
 
 Whereas^ We, the veterans here in camp-fire assembled, 
 desire to preserve for the benefit of posterity the memoirs of 
 our most manifest feats in the " late unpleasantness;" and. 
 
 Whereas^ There were many battles in said unpleasantness 
 which have been heretofore unrecorded; therefore, 
 
 Resolved^ That the Society for the Preservation of Un- 
 published History be hereby petitioned to place the same in 
 its annals. 
 
 The same was thereby placed in the said annals, after the 
 several records were related, and the aforesaid memoirs were 
 duly contributed to the society's collection of curiosities. 
 
 The first speaker tried his memory, and related an account 
 of a mountain skirmish; but this was found in the official 
 reports published by the Government. In like manner the 
 discussions proceeded until the camp-fire embers were nearly 
 all consumed, and the evening had grown late. Nevertheless, 
 the representatives of the S. P. U. H. noted the minutes of 
 the meeting literally, in accordance with the hereinbefore- 
 mentioned resolution, until finally one veteran from a Kansas 
 regiment remembered a battle which he was sure had not 
 been recorded in history. 
 
 *'On the Fourth of July, 1863," said he, " was, indeed, 
 one of the grandest climaxes of the war. The haughty city 
 of Vicksburg fell, and was allowed to come up out of the 
 ground. The bloody battle of Gettysburg was fought, with 
 
172 " CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 which two battles the public mind was so occupied that it 
 could not notice the rost of the carnage. But there were 
 other mighty battles fought at that time, one of which was 
 in the midst of a large Western city. 
 
 " However, the preliminary to this must be understood. 
 Of course people all over the country were celebrating the 
 
 day, and our city, in which I had been confined in L 's 
 
 general hospital for six weeks, was no exception to the rule. 
 
 " To entertain the wounded soldiers, and fill his own 
 purse, an ingenious Frenchman obtained permission from the 
 city authorities to give a balloon ascension at one of the large 
 parks. It was expected to be a grand affair. There were to 
 be other performances in a tent near by, and some rockets 
 were to be sent up, with a further display of fireworks. 
 All soldiers who had enough money bought their tickets at 
 fifty cents apiece, and also those who could borrow money. 
 
 " The morning came, and we all went up to the park. 
 On arriving, we found a man there to take our tickets, but 
 very meager preparations had been made to entertain us. 
 The old balloon was torn, and there were holes in it in some 
 places two feet in diameter. The rest of the programme 
 was in a similar dilapidated state of rehearsal. Soldiers are 
 not the people to be deceived or cheated in such a manner, 
 so the boys determined to have the fireworks, at any rate, and 
 they took the thing into their own hands. They tore up 
 things generally around there, and when they left there was 
 not a piece of that balloon large enough for a Comanche In- 
 dian's pocket handkerchief. But they kept the rockets for 
 future use. 
 
 « We returned to the hospital to rest after our sport, much 
 disappointed. But we had the rockets on hand and a few Ro- 
 man candles which must be disposed of in some way. 
 
 "Just across from the hospital was the Fifth Street mar- 
 ket, which we could see from' our side of the building that 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 73 
 
 fronted on Broadway. The hospital was located in the 
 worst part of the city, as far as the sentiments of the people 
 were taken into account, for on every side our neighbors were 
 the most bitter * copperheads.' Some of them had gone to 
 the would-be balloon ascension in the afternoon, and they, 
 too, had Roman candles and sky-rockets. The possession of 
 these suggested to them a new method of tormenting the 
 sick and wounded soldiers in the hospital, so they gathered at 
 dark in the Fifth Street market, together with many other 
 Confederate sympathizers from various parts of the city, and 
 began to bombard us with the rockets. 
 
 " Our windows were open, as the evening was very warm, 
 and it seemed as if every rocket that was fired was aimed 
 straight for a window of the hospital. One came square 
 into my window, and would have set my bed on fire had I 
 not been there to extinguish it; and I suppose that it was the 
 same with the other rooms on that side of the building, for I 
 could hear the boys above and below me cursing the ' cop- 
 perheads' over in the market. Verily, the martial music on 
 this occasion was a prolonged fantasia of profanity. When 
 some of our boys would swear exceptionally loud the bogus 
 Confederates would applaud. This only enraged our boys 
 the more, and they at once declared war ! 
 
 " One of the boys, by the name of Slaughterback, had the 
 courage to call the boys together to materialize their desires, 
 and the lines were formed immediately. 
 
 " Our ire was aroused. We determined to vanquish the 
 enemy as quickly as we had the balloon. All who were able 
 to walk came to join our ranks. Some of the boys hobbled 
 out on their crutches, some with one arm in a sling, and 
 others with so high a fever that they could not have rallied from 
 their prostration under any other circumstances. Each one 
 took it upon himself to resent what he considered almost a 
 personal insult. I was so sick that I could not have raised 
 
I^jTjJ. CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 my head on ordinary occasions, but the stimulus to my 
 weakened nerves was so great that I crawled out of my bed 
 to the window just in time to see a battle which seemed to 
 me more magnificent than the ' battle above the clouds.' It 
 was the grandest display of fireworks that I ever witnessed. 
 The Roman candles, with their irregular flashes, gave a glo- 
 rious effect to a charge at night by men so weakened that in 
 many cases they were scarcely able to stand, while the rock- 
 ets well represented the ' sky-scraping shells.' 
 
 " There were forty of the boys in all who were able to 
 ' rally round the flag.' They had no guns — they were armed 
 with nothing except bravery and Roman candles. But tlie 
 enemy were still worse of[—t/iey were armed with only Ro- 
 man candles! Of course bricks or clubs and many other 
 things were picked up by our boys as they advanced in regu- 
 lar line of battle eager in their obedience to ' Forward — March !' 
 from Commander Slaughterback. On they went, this for- 
 midable phalanx of forty! The enemy were greatly superior 
 in numbers; but, alas! they were men who had run from 
 even the draft, much less then, a body of forty trained soldiers 
 on crutches! A few hurled sticks and stones at the regulars 
 as they advanced to the attack, but they kept a steady step, un- 
 mindful of the contemptuous thrusts from these ' smaller fry.' 
 
 " The main line of the enemy stood nobly, in the hope 
 that they might rout the disabled Federals by a flank move- 
 ment, for the latter were not reinforced. But the regular step 
 of the Federals seemed so grand and undaunted that, it being 
 their first battle, the overwhelming numbers of the enemy 
 stood aghast; and when the Federals hurled their first volley 
 of miscellaneous ammunition at them it was the ' most iin- 
 kindest cut of all,' and they fled in dismay. 
 
 " So closed, simultaneously with Gettysburg and Vicks- 
 buro-. the only battle of the war which heretofore has not 
 been described. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. l^^ 
 
 INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE. 
 
 " The hero of the battle was Commander Slaughterback. 
 With one arm in a sling, and his whole body weakenea from 
 suffering, he kept well forward, and was the first to engage 
 the enemy. As he came near the scene of the encounter one 
 of the enemy bravely advanced to meet him, and with a con- 
 temptuous look said : 
 
 "'If your arm was not in that sling, sir, I'd thrash your 
 cursed impudence out of you.' 
 
 " Come on,' said Slaughterback, clapping his other arm 
 behind his back; ' tie my other arm where it is, and then I'll 
 kick you clear across the street at the first blow, you insignifi- 
 cant coward!' Immediately after which, the fellow beat a 
 precipitate retreat. 
 
 "As I beheld in my admiration the grand charge of our 
 boys along the whole line, being too weak to give the old 
 army yell of triumph, I eagerly grabbed my crutch and 
 hammered on the window-frame with all my might. A simi- 
 lar noise came from several of the windows on the front and 
 side of the building, while the forty who had gone forth and 
 conquered the enemy responded with a prolonged cheer." 
 
 "As the battle just related occurred on a very proud day 
 for the old flag," said Dr. A.W. Gray, late Adjutantof the 51st 
 Illinois Infantry, " let me give the result, in a few words, of con- 
 siderable research for the true origin of our flag, and also some 
 points in regard to Washington's ancestors, which may be ot 
 interest : 
 
 " How often has the American citizen thought whether 
 the design of the United States flag signified anything of 
 itself, or was simply an artistic accident? Some have one ex- 
 planation, others another. The common one is, that the 
 white bars typify purity; the red, the blood shed for our 
 nationality; the stars, the individual States, ea^h shedding 
 
176 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 luster one upon another; the hlue, faith in the strength and 
 '^^erpetuity of our government, and, like the azure blue of the 
 sky, overshadowing the entire land. 
 
 " But the true origin, and the one now generally accepted 
 is, that it was a design offered by Gen. George Washington 
 himself, and was simply a modification and enlarge- 
 ment of his own coat-of-arms. It Is a well-known fact 
 that Washington prided himself upon being a gentleman, 
 as the term is understood in the old country; and that he had 
 a coat-of-arms emblazoned upon the panels of his carriage, 
 embroidered upon his book-mark, and engraved upon his 
 watch seal. 
 
 " The first Washington of whom we have any record was 
 one John Washington, of Warton, Lancashire, England, who 
 had a son, Laurence Washington, a London lawyer, who was 
 a partisan and fiworite of King Henry VIII.; who moved to 
 Solgrave, County of North England, and was Mayor of 
 Northampton in 1533, and again in 1546; whose epitaph 
 and coat-of-arms may still be seen engraved on a brass plate 
 in the village church at Solgrave. 
 
 " When King Henry VIII. seceded from Popish rule and 
 established the Church of England, he confiscated the landed 
 property of the Catholic Church throughout England, and 
 divided it among his favorite followers. To Laurence Wash- 
 ington he gave in 1538 the ' Manor of Solgrave,' formerly 
 the property of the ' Monastery of Saint Andrews,' North- 
 ampton. He also gave to him a coat-of-arms, which is thus 
 recorded in the College of Heraldry in London: 
 
 " 'Arms — Argent, two bars gules ; in chief, three mulletts 
 of the second.' 
 
 " ' Crest — A raven, with wings indorsed proper, issuing 
 out of a ducal coronet.' 
 
 "Which being explained means: A?'ms^ a shield; ar- 
 ^e;?^, silver; bars gziles^ red bars; in chiefs the top part of 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I^y 
 
 the shield; mulletts^ rowels or spurs of knighthood, and are 
 represented by several ^z^^-pointed stars; crest., the orna- 
 ment that surmounts the shield ; coronet., a crown. 
 
 " This coat-of-arms can yet be seen engraved on the 
 stone over the gateway of the ' Solgrave manor house,' on the 
 brass plate which marks the grave of Laurence Washington 
 and his wife, and also on the plate over the grave of his 
 grandson, Robert Washington, in the church at Brington. 
 
 " So much for the coat-of-arms; and now a few words as 
 to how the Washingtons happened to emigrate to America. 
 As before stated, the family were pronounced loyalists, and 
 when Cromwell was made Protector of England he beheaded 
 Charles I., the King. He then persecuted the royal follow- 
 ers, among whom was John Washington, a great-grandson 
 of Laurence Washington; who, to save his life, fled to 
 America in the year 1659 and settled in Virginia, where he 
 died in 1675. John Washington left a son, Laurence, who 
 died in 1697, leaving a son, Augustine, who was the father of 
 George Washington, the first President of the United 
 States — born in 1732 and died in 1799. 
 
 When Congress discussed the question of adopting a 
 national flag various designs were submitted for adoption. 
 Washington drew a design of a flag which embodied the 
 essential features of his family coat-of-arms, and had a Mrs. 
 Ross, who kept an upholstery establishment in Philadelphia, 
 make a flag in accordance therewith. The raven was 
 changed to an eagle; the stars and bars were increased in 
 number to one for each of the thirteen colonies, and the blue 
 was inserted as the natural contrast of red. The crown or 
 coronet, emblematic of royalty, was dropped. This flag was 
 the one adopted by Congress, and is the same flag that waves 
 in triumph at Yorktown. New Orleans^ the Citv of Mexico, 
 and Appomattox, and that to-day still waves ' o'er the land 
 of the free, and the home of the brave-' 
 ^1 
 
lyS CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "And here is the genealogy of the ' Father of his Coun 
 try': (i) George Washington — the first President of the 
 United States — son of (2) Augustine, son ot (3) Laurence, 
 son of (4) John (knighted by King James I., and who came 
 to America in 1659), son of (5) Laurence, son of (6) Rob- 
 ert, son of (7) Laurence, who was twice Mayor of North- 
 ampton, and to whom, in 1538, King Henry VIIL, granted 
 the coat-of-arms, which, 340 years later, broadened out into the 
 national flag of the United States of America. 
 
 " In this connection another interesting fact is discovered : 
 Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain aided Columbus to discover 
 the continent of America; Katharine of Arragon was their 
 daughter, and was also thp wife of Henry VIH. King of 
 England, who gave the coat-of-arms to Laurence Washing- 
 ton. So that Spain has the honor of not only discovering 
 America, but also of having a son-in-law who gave her s 
 
CAMP-FIRE XIV. 
 
 A ROLLICKING RECRUIT LOVE AND WAR THE S. P. U. H. 
 
 SUTLER "WHEN GABRIEL BLOWS HIS TRUMPET /N 
 
 il^OWEVER lamentable the fact may seem to the seif- 
 styled philosophers, the , chroniclers of these chats have 
 the cool reflection that this is about the best world they 
 ever lived in. There is sufficient evil to test the energies of 
 the good ; plenty of black clouds to make the sunshine all 
 the more enjoyable, and almost enough smiles — those beau- 
 tiful triumphs of good will toward men — to cheer the 
 melancholy. 
 
 And what a blissful thing it was that, notwithstanding 
 the soldiers were all selected, this state of things existed in the 
 army ! 
 
 Humanity was pretty well represented there, abounding 
 in over a million distinct specimens all told; but none was 
 more praiseworthy than the " funny man" of each company. 
 He was just as necessary as the chaplain; for, while the lat- 
 ter buoyed up the sunken spirits of the soldiers by urging an 
 unfaltering trust, the joker played upon the said spirits lai- 
 terally by keeping up the ridiculous end of the programme. 
 
 Nothing could have been received with more gratitude, in 
 the dull hours of the winter camp, than the exhilarating effect 
 of a real, wholesome, rib-shaking joke; and, though it was a 
 little severe ;.n the boys sometimes, yet they usually recovered 
 and felt well over it, as is illustrated by Mr. Wm. A. Craw- 
 ley*s recollection of a comrade: 
 
 179 
 
l8o CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 "I was fortunate enough to belong to the loth Illinois 
 Cavalry, and not having to trudge along on foot like the poor 
 infantry men, we seemed never to grow weary, and were 
 standing candidates for anything that promised entertainmer.: 
 for man or beast, while our opportunities and desires for gen- 
 eral deviltry and wholesale ' cussedness,' were without any 
 discoverable limit. 
 
 " There was one other fellow in our regiment — a pale, slim 
 youth, who enlisted as a recruit in 1862. He had a. sad ex- 
 pression of countenance, but, indeed, he was not sad — he was 
 only meditating on some new invention for the production of 
 mischief. 
 
 " Crawford was his name, and as soon after entering the 
 service as he became acquainted, he took another young re- 
 cruit by the name of Boyd ' snipe hunting.' While B03 d 
 held the sack in one hand and the lighted candle in the other, 
 Crawford made a circuit to drive in the snipe. 
 
 " Five minutes later Crawford, having put on a Confed- 
 erate uniform, charged upon Boyd and demanded his sur- 
 render. But alas! Crawford had mischosen his man. Boyd 
 was a fellow who would have had no more sense than to 
 tight a whole regiment, and was not the soldier to be intimi- 
 dated by any one opponent. No sooner had Crawford made 
 the demand than Boyd stepped up to him, pulled him from 
 his horse, and began beating him with all his power. How- 
 ever, Crawford finally succeeded, by a great amount of 
 ' moral suasion' and apology, in persuading Boyd to * let up,' 
 which was done after the latter thought that he had pun- 
 ished his inveigler sufficiently, and peace reigned once more, 
 the two returning to camp together. 
 
 " Crawford felt rather sore over the ill success of his first 
 
 trick, and still sorer over the beating Boyd had given him. 
 
 He tried to bribe Boyd into silence, but the fellow could not 
 
 ' be bought, and the truth soon leaked out. After the facts had 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. lOI 
 
 become known about the camp, the adventure furnished sport 
 for the boys for a week or more, or until something else took its 
 place, which was not long; for, notwithstanding the severe 
 pounding he had received, which kept him in his tent for a 
 few days, Crawford was not in the least discouraged ; and 
 while he was recovering was just the most opportune time to 
 concoct another trick. 
 
 " But before he regained sufficient stiength to carry out 
 his project he received a letter from his sweetheart, which 
 moderated his immediate plan of action somewhat. I called 
 on him while he was yet convalescent: 
 
 " ' Bill,' he said, * I want you to go to the sutler's and get 
 me a ream of fool's-cap paper.' 
 
 *'* Why, what can you possibly do with so much paper?' 
 I asked, knowing that his family were all dead, and that he 
 seldom wrote a letter. With a soleixm and aggrieved expres- 
 sion on his face he asked again, in reply : 
 
 " ' Will you go if I tell you what I want with it?' 
 " ' Yes,' I said, 'I'll go; but it's folly to have so much pa- 
 per lying around. You don't expect to write for the press, 
 do you?' 
 
 ." *No,' he said, holding his sides, and with great effort sup- 
 pressing a convulsion of laughter, 'don't make me laugh; I 
 am so lame yet.' 
 
 "'Well, what is it?' 
 " ' I'll tell you. I have been writing to a young lady in 
 Peoria, Illinois — as fine a girl as ever admired a brave 
 soldier — and she complains that my letters are too short. I 
 mean to write her one that will satisfy her, if it takes all the 
 paper the old sutler has.' 
 
 "' Oh, well, now Crawford, don't be silly; don't put butter 
 on bacon. Write her a reasonable letter, and let that settle it.' 
 *"No, sir, I'll string it out; if you can't get me the paper, 
 some one else will.' 
 
l82 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " ' Oh, I'll get you the paper; but, boy alive! it will cost 
 you ten dollars the way the sutler charges ! ' 
 
 " * I don't care if it costs the next year's wages! I'll write 
 the whole ream full to her,' he concluded. 
 
 "'All right,' I repHed; ' I'll go for the paper.' 
 
 "'Well, here's the money,' he said, giving me a ten- 
 dollar bill; « and keep quiet about it — the boys have one too 
 many jokes on me now.' 
 
 "'All right,' I said, and started off for the sutler's place, 
 feeling confident that Crawford hud given me sufficient 
 money to buy the ream of paper and to spare, and that I 
 would soon return. But, to my surprise, I had not over-esti- 
 mated the sutler's price; on the other hand, I had come con- 
 siderably below it. The miserly old sutler wanted fifteen 
 dollars for that ream of fool's-cap! I succeeded in getting 
 him to reduce the price to twelve dollars, but was unfortu- 
 nate enough to drop some remark which informed him that 
 it was absolutely necessary for me to have that paper. This 
 settled the matter in the sutler's mind. He would not fall a 
 cent from twelve dollars. So I paid him the price and took 
 the paper, making up the additional two dollars from my 
 own pocket, but said nothing about it to Crawford." 
 
 [The narration of this transaction is probably the only 
 proceeding in the history of the chats that was attended bv 
 misfortune; and the error was, indeed, practical in its ap[)l - 
 cation, for, very unkindly, it directly affected the S. P. U. H. 
 in their paper supply. The society's own, true, integrant: 
 reliable, upright, incorruptible, open-hearted, tender-coi: 
 scienced sutler, caught an idea from this story; and, spurrc. 
 on by the promptings of avarice in the human heart, he ccr_ 
 eluded to increase the cost of the stationery — he, whose for- 
 tune they had cherished from its infancy! whose welfare they 
 had spared nothing to look after (when it occasioned no ex- 
 pense)! whose success up to date they had smiled upon with 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 183 
 
 pride! — he, the one whom from all the wide circle of the 
 business world they had chosen for commercial virtue! Verily, 
 Ingratitude has a stone heart, and Mis-Fortune is often clad in 
 gold. It was not the extravagant price per ream that the 
 society must pay for their paper — current price of which is 
 $2.oo@$3.oo — which now appalled them, but their annoy- 
 ance was that they must hereafter acknowledge their non- 
 infallibility in judging human nature. iVlas! " how much the 
 heart can bear, and yet not break!" But, thankfully, their 
 presence of mind returned, after which the society bore no 
 ill will toward their sutler, for it was not their policy to allow 
 the phenomenon of bad feeling in their existence ; and then the 
 sutler was a good sutler — he sold many good things, great 
 among which was bottled good humor. So that the station- 
 ery question was the only one to be dealt with now. The 
 society once more reverted to history, and read how Sharon 
 Turner " wrote the third volume of his « Sacred History of the 
 World' upon paper which did not cost him a farthing," though 
 he drew annually a literary pension of three hundred pounds. 
 His paper consisted of "torn and angular fragments of letters 
 and notes; of covers of periodicals — gray, drab, or green —writ- 
 ten in thick, round hand over a small print: of shreds of curl- 
 ing-paper unctuous with pomatum or bear's grease; anA of 
 the white wrappers in which his proofs were sent from the 
 printers. The paper, sometimes as thin as a bank-note, was 
 written on both sides; and was so sodden with ink, plastered 
 on with a pen worn to a stump, that hours were frequently 
 wasted in discovering on which side of it certain sentences 
 were written." The S. P. U. H. remembered all this, and 
 concluded tlip.c tliey had read history to too good a purpose 
 not to " vvrin[^ /ictory from defeat'* in the present emergency* 
 At once they hit upon a plan which possessed two advan- 
 tages: One in giving discipline to the sutler by withdrawing 
 their patronage; the other in becoming even more historic 
 
184 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 than the hereinbefore mentioned lord, by using anything 
 which could be written upon, whether paper or not. Of 
 course this scheme gave considerable variety to the material 
 of which the manuscript should be composed, the same in- 
 cluding collars, cuffs, shirt fronts, — a practice held over from 
 college examinations, when the students were accustomed to 
 write the answers to all hard questions upon their cuffs before- 
 hand, — boot soles, leather hat-bands, the smooth side of bark 
 from neighboring trees — anything to keep from buying paper 
 of the sutler. Finally the crisis came. One veteran arose, 
 and spoke loud and long. The society's notes were being 
 made very full and complete. The speaker grew more elo- 
 quent, and his words fell faster than ever. Every pencil was 
 being pushed to its full capacity. The manuscript now 
 consisted largely of sticks and stones. How the report of the 
 speech was to be kept together could not be considered in the 
 present state of high nervous tension. Not a word must be 
 lost. Then rolled forth with great force the burning syllables 
 of the peroration, at a terrible velocity. What could be done? 
 Everything available for stationery had been used — even the 
 beautiful hands of the members were covered with notes! 
 But, ah! the society must not be overcome by circumstances; 
 hence they hurriedly called up the camp-dog, turned up the in- 
 side of one of his ears, and went rapidly on with their labor 
 of love. But from this proceeding another difficulty arose — 
 misfortunes again came in a pair. Everything went on 
 smoothly enough until the society began to collect and ar- 
 range their minutes of this unfortunate camp-fire, when alas! 
 the canine had fled, with the notes still untranscribed from his 
 ear; hence if these chats seem incomplete, the cause is hereby 
 made apparent. Then it was, to be sure, that the society be- 
 gp- to feel some sympathy for the poor printers who must 
 iit^v^i> "follow copy." — -Furthermore, notice is hereby given 
 that, if any one may find a camp-dog with "page 184" written 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 185 
 
 upon the inside of his left ear, a favor will be conferred upon 
 suffering posterity by returning the same to this camp-fire. 
 No questions will be asked, nor any reward -paid, as that 
 would tend to accumulate a stock of dogs around the fire, 
 which proceeding would be unhistoric, inglorious and undesira- 
 ble, except when rations were short. And, still further, be it 
 known that not only his left ear, but also the entire lost dog 
 is copyrighted, and therefore cannot be used for anything else 
 until the expiration of twenty-eight (28) years, at which time, 
 it is thought, he will be valuable only as a relic for the museum 
 of the S. P. U. H., since he had already reached the age of 
 discretion. ] 
 
 "As soon as I returned," continued Mr. Crawley, " Craw- 
 ford began to cut each leaf of * fools-cap ' lengthwise in the 
 center, pasting the two strips thus obtained together, then 
 combining the double strips until he had a string of paper 
 seven hundred forty-six yards, two feet long, when he begun 
 to write.*' [This letter is in the society's collection.] 
 
 " The letter discussed a great variety of topics, and was 
 embellished with numerous original pen etchings intended to 
 more fully elucidate the various subjects discussed. While 
 he was at v/ork on this lengthy epistle I frequently visited 
 him in his tent at night. One evening I asked: 
 
 " ' What do you think the postage will be on your stack 
 of nonsense?' 
 
 "Upon which he burst into an uncontrollable fit of laugh- 
 tiT, replying that he would not allow that to keep him from 
 sending the letter now, after he had spent so much time in 
 writing it, and preparing the illustrations. He paid the 
 postage on the letter, but would never tell me how much it was. 
 
 *' Well,' said I, " I must be going back to my tent — I also 
 must write home to-night.' 
 
 " ' If you'll wait a minute I'll read you the last sentence of 
 the letter.' 
 
l86 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " ' All right,' I replied. 
 
 " ' Well, here it is.' Then he read: 
 
 u * * * 'And now, my dear Angelica, I can tell you that 
 I am very happy, because the assurance dawns upon me thai 
 I am near the end of my paper; and I have only to say that, 
 after I have been through the usual number of pitched battles, 
 long, weary marches, and narrow escapes; and have at last 
 completed this letter, — the climax of all my toil and hardsliip, 
 — -if you are not satisfied with the length of it, I will come 
 home as soon as our business at the front is finished, and, 
 trusting that my affection for you will have increased sufiiciently 
 to warrant our marriage, will have the ceremony performed; 
 and then you shall obey me when I order you to assist me 
 in writing you a letter of sufficient length. 
 
 'Wearily yours, C 
 
 5 J» 
 
 Mr. Crawley resumed : " Sometimes, when we were 
 making a forced march, day and night, with trouble ahead of 
 us, the column would halt for a few minutes, to allow our 
 trains and howitzers to ' close up.' We generally dismounted 
 to rest ourselves and horses, when some of the men would 
 throw themselves upon the ground; or, sitting with their 
 backs against a tree, with rein in hand, would endeavor to 
 catch a moment's sleep before the shrill notes of the bugle 
 sounded the advance. 
 
 " This was Crawford's opportunity. With a large tree 
 branch under his arm he would rush across the body of some 
 sleeper, stamping his heels in the earth, and crying: 
 
 "'Whoa! Whoa!' 
 
 " Supposing that a horse with something tied to his halter 
 had broken loose and was running over him, the awakened 
 soldier would jump up, throw his arms wildly about him, and 
 sometimes run several yards, joining in the cry, before realiz- 
 ing the farcical situation, when he would return rubbing his 
 eyes, with chagrin, discomfiture and rage depicted on his 
 countenance. 
 
1 88 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " Of course this made some sport for the comrades, and was 
 not always consonant with the feehngs of the victimized 
 soldier; but pouting in the army, as elsewhere, proved very 
 unprofitable, so that serenity soon prevailed again." 
 
 Mr. C. F. Matteson then related this: 
 
 "The regiment to which I belonged (17th Illinois In- 
 fantry) spent part of the summer and most of the fall of 1861 
 in tramping over the hills and through the swamps of South- 
 eastern Missouri; and it is hardly necessary to say that to an 
 Illinois boy, this part of the State did not appear quite as 
 near to Paradise as to the other place. The regiment was 
 finally stationed at Cape Girardeau for winter quarters. Dur- 
 ing the winter many of the boys fell sick with that great- 
 est scourge of the army, the measles. Among the sick was 
 one ' Bob,' full of the dryest wit imaginable. Bob was very 
 sick; so much so, that we thought he would ' turn up his toes 
 to the daisies' — a poetic form of saying that one was going to 
 the Great Hereafter. I was a sergeant in his company, and as 
 such it was one of my duties to visit the boys, and in cases 
 like his to learn, if possible, what disposition they wished 
 made of their personal property; also to take any last message 
 for their friends at home, and to say to those friends that Johnnie 
 or Jimmie was the * best, most faithful, honest and obedient 
 soldier in the company,' and that since he was gone we did 
 not know how we should get along without him, etc., etc. 
 As Mark Twain says, 'It soothed them,' and did not hurt us at 
 all. Well I had received Bob's 'last will and testament,' 
 what I was to say to the boys for him, bade him good-bye, 
 telling him to keep a stiff upper lip, that I would have the 
 whole company come down when we ' planted ' him, which 
 should be done in the best style, and started for the door, 
 when the nurse called me back, saying, ' Bob wants to tell 
 you something else.' I returned to the cot, and inquired, 
 
 « ' Well, Bob, what is it? Is there anything else?' 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 1 89 
 
 " 'Yes, Charlie,! wish' — and he spoke very slow and labored, 
 with a pause after almost every word; — *I wish — you — 
 would tell — one thing more for me.' 
 
 "« Of course I will,' I said ; 'what is it?' 
 
 " ' I wish you would tell 'em, when they plant me, to 
 place me with my face down, my head to the east, and a clam 
 shell in each hand.' 
 
 " ' All right,' said I, ' I'll do it.' Now I knew if I did not 
 ask him why he wanted to be buried so, it would be the death 
 of him in less than an hour, as there is nothing more fatal than 
 an undeveloped joke. 'But why so. Bob? ' I asked. 
 
 " ' Well, I think, Charlie, if old Gabe would put off that 
 horn businessof his a reasonable length of time, I could tunnel 
 through under the Mississippi, and come up from Illinois, for 
 I'd hate like h — 1 to rise from Missouri.' 
 
 " The relieved and satisfied smile that crept over his tired 
 face, and the merry twinkle of his eye, satisfied me that Bob's 
 request would not be complied with then. He served out 
 his full term of enlistment, and still lives in the State that he 
 was so anxious to rise from. I think that the effort saved 
 his life." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XV. 
 
 THE RACE FOR COLUMBIA — " TO AMPUTATE, OR NOT TO 
 AMPUTATE?" 
 
 F all the various organizations," said Mr. F. Y. Hedley, 
 Adjutant 33d Illinois Infantry, A. A, A. G., 3d Brigade, 
 4th Division, lytli Army Corps, — " whose united effort 
 preserved to us nationality, none affiliated so heartily or 
 trusted each other so completely, as did the 15th and lytli 
 Corps. They were the Siamese Twins of the army. To- 
 gether and at the same moment they came into being; side by 
 side they grew to sturdy manhood, and marched and fought 
 until peace smiled approval upon them, and fame pro- 
 claimed their glory. Their regiments had gathered at Caiio 
 in the early days of the struggle; as divisions they had fought 
 at Donelson and Shiloh; and when they came to be army 
 corps they bore their full share of the hard struggle at Vicks- 
 burg. In the grand movements about Atlanta they were the 
 whip-lash of the army — snapped hither and thither, from 
 flank to flank, marching by night to reach a new vanta^? 
 ground, whereon to fight by day. In the memorable Marcli 
 to the Sea, and the raid through the Carolinas, their services 
 were most conspicuous. And then the end came, and tb.ey 
 marched proudly side by side down the streets of the national 
 capital, cheered by all Christendom. 
 
 "The dramatic brilliancy of the achievements of these 
 superb commands had a fitting counterpart in the phenomenal 
 ability of their chiefs. Grant had personally commanded these 
 troops before their organization as corps. He it was who 
 
 190 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I9I 
 
 gave them their identity, and selected their commanders. At 
 first, the 15th Corps was led by the brilliant Sherman, and the 
 17th by the peerless McPherson, both of whom were speedily 
 promoted, giving place respectively to Logan and Blair, who 
 were regarded by their troops with admiration and affection. 
 They were instinctively recognized as conspicuous types of 
 the volunteer soldier whom too many of the West Point 
 martinets affected to despise. Their men had heard them on 
 the hustings in political campaigns, and knew them. Logan 
 had fought with a musket at Bull Run; in turn he had com- 
 manded regiment, brigade and division, and his magnetic 
 presence and soldierly bearing had given them confidence in 
 many a struggle. Blair had organized the free soilers of St. 
 Louis while Sumter was yet being fired on, throttling rebel- 
 lion in Missouri, and saving Illinois and Indiana from the fate 
 of Kentucky and Virginia, and afterward commanding in 
 the field with courage and marked ability. The great prestige 
 of their first chiefs, Sherman and McPherson; the conspicu- 
 ous services and the similarity in the careers of their later 
 commanders, and the coincidences of their own history in the 
 field, gave to these commands an espi-lt de corps and a feel- 
 ing of comradeship which was wonderful, provoking friendly 
 rivalries which led to extraordinary effort in battle and march, 
 and of which this sketch may serve as an example. 
 
 " Sherman's army lay grouped about Savannah from the 
 occupation of the city a day or two before Christmas, i86z|, 
 until the middle of January, 1865, when a movement upon 
 South Carolina began. The 14th and 20th Corps and a part 
 of the 15th moved by land to the vicinity of Beaufort; the re- 
 mander of the 15th and the entire 17th were transported from 
 Thunderbolt Inlet by water. After a sharp engagement a 
 lodgment upon the Charleston railroad was effected in the 
 vicinity of Pocotaligo. January 30 the march for the in- 
 terior commenced, and on February 3 Mower and Giles A, 
 
192 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Smith, with the 3d and 4th Divisions of the 17th Corps 
 effected the passage of the Salkehatchie, wading and swim- 
 ming that stream and its indescribable swamps, in the face of 
 a fierce resistance by the enemy. On the 6th the 15th Corps 
 was at Hamburg, on the railway between Augusta and 
 Charleston, and the 17th Corps at Midway, a few miles further 
 east. To this time, the objective point was unknown to the 
 troops, and as the stations named were about equi-distant from 
 Augusta and Columbia, there was much conjecture as to the 
 route to be pursued. Four days later, the J7th Corps crossed 
 the South Edisto after a brisk engagement, and on the 12th, 
 after more sharp fighting, Orangeburg was occupied, the 15th 
 and 17th Corps having crossed the main branch of the Edisto 
 about the same time. Then it was realized that Columbia 
 lay in the line of march, and the fact was regarded by the 
 troops with unusual interest. They recognized Columbia as 
 being of a verity ' the hot-bed of rebellion,' the birthplace of 
 nullification and secession, and that its occupation was properly 
 to be regarded as a triumph more significant than the capture 
 of Richmond itself. These views were peculiarly current in 
 these two corps, whose route was evidently nearest in line 
 with the city; and the men of the two commands commenced 
 to observe movements with a rare degree of interest and ex- 
 pectation. On the 13th all four columns, pursuing parallel 
 roads, were headed toward Columbia, about forty miles dis- 
 tant. The 17th Corps had the inside line, on the right of 
 Cawcaw Swamp. The 15th was to the left, and had a some- 
 what more direct route, but more difficult on account of the 
 passage of several small streams. On the 14th but little dis- 
 tance was made, both these columns meeting with stout op- 
 position. The 15th, however, managed to forge ahead a 
 little, and reached a point about twelve miles below Columbia. 
 On the 15th, that corps was sharply engaged, while the 17th 
 had less trouble and made a march of fourteen miles, getting 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 '93 
 
 well in line with its rival. That night the enemy fiercely 
 shelled the camp of the 15th Corps, wounding a few men. 
 
 " The next day. February 16, both corps broke camp early 
 and after making a march of twelve miles drew up on the 
 west bank of the Congaree River, just below the confluence of 
 Saluda and Broad Rivers. On the opposite side, on ground 
 gently sloping to the river, lay Columbia, its wide streets and 
 beautiful buildings making a handsome picture. The im- 
 posing walls of the new capitol, yet unfinished, rose in massive 
 beauty, and near it stood its less conspicuous neighbor, the old 
 capitol. Up the river a short distance, and on the same side, 
 was a water-mill, which proved to be full of rebel riflemen, 
 who, finding a conspicuous mark in a large gray horse upon 
 which the adjutant of the 33d Illinois regiment was mounted, 
 fired a volley at that officer while he was engaged in forming 
 a color-line. Three men in his vicinity were wounded by this 
 fire. A few shots from one of the famous little Rodman 
 guns of Clayton's ist Minnesota Battery knocked the water- 
 wheel to pieces and set timbers a-flying at so lively a rate that 
 the riflemen tumbled out and scampered away like rats from 
 a burning barn. About the same time a battery of Parrott 
 guns threw a few shells into the city, and dispersed a crowd 
 of people plundering the rebel commissariat. It was 
 while these events were transpiring that General Sherman 
 rode up and examined the city through his glass, then re- 
 marking to General Belknap, afterward (Secretary of War) 
 commanding the 3d Brigade, 4th Division, 17th Corps, that 
 he « would appreciate the men who first made a lodgment in 
 Columbia.' That night the 15th Corps passed to the left of 
 the 17th, under orders from General Sherman to eflfect a cross- 
 ing of Broad River, three miles above, and enter the cit}^ from 
 the north; and while this movement was in progress General 
 Belknap was devising a plan for carrying into effect the hint 
 let drop by General Sherman. 
 IS 
 
194 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " After a conference with Lient.-Colonel Kennedy, of the 
 13th Iowa, the regiment formerly commanded by himself, 
 General Belknap dispatched a party to search for a boat. 
 They were so fortunate as to find a leaky, rickety old scow, 
 and by dint of all-night hard work, under the superintendence 
 of Capt. H. C. McArthur, who had at one time been a car- 
 penter, they succeeded in repairing it to such an extent as to 
 make it tolerably seaworthy. About 10 o'clock on the 
 morning of the 17th, Lieut.-Colonel Kennedy, with twenty 
 men from his color company, and accompanied by Captain 
 McArthur and Lieutenant Goodell, of General Belknap's 
 staff, embarked, and essayed the passage of the stream. It 
 was a desperate undertaking. The current of the Congaree 
 was inconceivably swift, and the route lay across dangerous 
 rapids which would have deterjed less determined spirits. 
 But energy and courage were strong in these gallant men, and 
 after several narrow escapes from wreck on the rocks, they 
 landed in safety. Ascending the slope to the town at a 
 doubie-quick, at a distance of a couple of squares from the 
 river they intercepted a rebel officer making off in a buggy. 
 The officers of the party and their color-bearer took possession 
 of the vehicle and drove rapidly toward the capltol buildings, 
 directing the squad to follow at the double-quick. When 
 within two squares of their destination, Lieut.-Colonel Ken- 
 nedy and party were fired upon by a squad of "W' heeler's 
 Cavalry. Seizing the only gun in the party. Captain Mc- 
 Arthur jumped from the buggy and fired at the enemy, now 
 in retreat, unhorsing one of their number. Waiting until the 
 arrival of the remainder of tlie 13th Iowa squad, Lieut.- 
 Colonel Kennedy went on to the capitol buildings, and dis- 
 played his national flag from the old State House, and liis 
 regimental banner from the new one. He had been in pos- 
 session about an hour when an officer of the 9th Iowa from 
 the 15th Corps, rushed up, colors in hand, and breathlessl}' 
 asked the way to the dome of the old buildinsf. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I95 
 
 (( ( 
 
 You're too latel' hallooed Captain McArthur; «the 
 17th Corps has been here more than three-quarters of an 
 hour!' 
 
 "An expressive but impolite ejaculation was the only 
 response. A short time afterward, Lieut.-Colonel Kennedy 
 missed his national flag. It had been taken by a member of 
 the 15th Corps, but was restored to its proper owners about 
 a month later. 
 
 *' To return to the narrati\'e. After Lieut.-Colonel Ken- 
 nedy's party had accomplished the passage of the river, a 
 party of the 32d Illinois Regiment, also from General Bel- 
 knap's brigade, boated across, and proceeded on the double- 
 quick to the city hall. The color-bearer was sent to the sum- 
 mit of the tower to display his flag, and the officers in charge, 
 Adjutant Hedley and Captain Richardson, remained in the 
 mayor's oflice, having been accosted by a citizen there who 
 said that he was a councilman, and that the mayor had gone 
 out to meet the advancing troops and surrender the city. In 
 the mayor's oflice were found two flags — the rebel stars and 
 bars, made of some coarse woolen stuff", now in the possession 
 of Adjutant Hedley; the other a silk State flag. Captain 
 Richardson tendered the latter to General Belknap, who de- 
 sired him to retain it, which he does to this day. 
 
 "While there is no question of the first occupation of 
 Columbia by General ,Belknap's command (3d Brigade, 4th 
 Division, 17th Corps) the truth of history demands the state- 
 ment that the formal surrender of the city was made to Colonel 
 Stone, of the 15th Corps. Major Cramer, of the 30th lov/a, 
 of that command, had rafted five companies of his regiment 
 across the river above the city early that morning, under a 
 heavy fire. He drove the enemy from the outset, capturing 
 several prisoners; and when near the city met a carriage 
 bearing a white flag and conveying the mayor and marshal 
 of Columbia, who tendered a surrender of the city. Colond 
 
196 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Stone soon came up, and a formal surrender was made to him. 
 He, with Major Cramer, then entered the mayor's carriage, 
 drove to the city, and established a provost guard. 
 
 " The part taken by the 13th Iowa was suitably recognized 
 by Gen. Giles A. Smith, commanding the 4th Division, 
 T 7th Corps, who issued an order reciting some of the inci- 
 dents herein narrated, and congratulating Lieut.-Colonel 
 Kennedy, and the men under his command, upon the success- 
 ful accomplishment of their undertaking. General Sherman 
 had, however, forgotten his remark that he *would appreciate 
 the men who first made a lodgment in Columbia.' His re- 
 port acknowledged the formal surrender of the city to Colonel 
 Stone, and only incidentall}^ stated that ' about the same time 
 a small party of the 17th Corps crossed the Congaree in a 
 skiff and entered Columbia from a point immediately west.' 
 But even this had escaped his memory when he wrote his 
 * memoirs,' ten years later, for he then said 'the 17th Corps 
 did not enter the city at all!' " 
 
 Mr. Sol. R. Smith then remembered the following inci- 
 dent, and said : 
 
 " At the battle of Antietam, a colonel had his arm pain- 
 fully shattered, and he was borne from the field of battle by 
 his brothers and a private soldier. They carried him across 
 the country a long and toilsome distance, to the house of a 
 Maryland Union farmer. Every step of the journey was 
 torture to the sufferer, who was indeed in great agony when 
 the party reached the house. Then came the ubiquitous 
 Yankee surgeon, with his glittering knives and cruel saws, 
 and made hasty preparations to amputate the ailing member, 
 The farmer protested vehemently, declaring that the man 
 would die if the arm were cut off. The surgeon insisted, as 
 usual: 
 
 *' ' The patient will be dead before to-morrow night,' said 
 the surgeon. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. I97 
 
 "'No he'll not^ replied the farmer; ' I'll take care of him 
 myself.' 
 
 " The surgeon again insisted, saying that he had no time 
 to lose. The colonel's brothers agreed with the surgeon. 
 There was about to be a small war. Again was agitated 
 that great semi-suicidal question which was discussed so prac- 
 tically and tragically in nearly every floating hospital of the 
 Civil War: 
 
 To amputate, or not to amputate? that is the question: 
 
 Whether *tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
 
 Th' unsymmetry of one-armed men, and draw 
 
 A pension, thereby shuffling off a part 
 
 Of morcal coil ; or, trusting unhinged nature, 
 
 Take arms against a cruel surgeon's knife, 
 
 And, by opposing rusty theories, 
 
 Risk a return to dust in the full shape 
 
 Of man. ***** 
 
 " But the determined old farmer dispatched his son on nis 
 fleetest horse across the fields to the other side of the mountain 
 after a country physician, who was a friend and neighbor, but 
 a rank rebel. 
 
 " When the rustic Esculapius arrived there followed a long 
 contention with the Yankee hewer of bones, the result of 
 which was that the arm was saved, and after some months of 
 careful nursing, the colonel galloped off to join his reoiment, 
 a comparatively healthy man. He subsequently became 
 Governor of Ohio, and was afterward elected President of 
 the United States filling the office with credit." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XVL 
 
 "BRAZEN effrontery" — CORDUROY ROADS — LONG JOHN, 
 THE DARKEY. 
 
 P[OMETIMES the thread of human life is stretched 
 across the edge of swords sharpened variously; some, 
 times it is sustained by very little more than the shadow 
 of a circumstance; at other times it is held together by only a 
 simple, single thought — unyielding determination, supported 
 by irrepressible courage. 
 
 One incident was related at this camp-fire by Mr. James 
 M. Allen, Company F, 2d Illinois Cavalry, in which "un- 
 bridled audacity" saved the lives of four soldiers: 
 
 " While Lee's Cavalry was in camp in advance of General 
 Banks' army, at the commencement of his Red River cam- 
 paign, four of us were very suddenly placed in a peculiar and 
 dangerous situation, about ten miles west of the city of Alex- 
 andria, La. Like all the cavalry boys, we became uneasy 
 and restless from our inactivity; so we took a scout on our 
 own account, contrary to strict orders not to go beyond the 
 picket line, as that part of the country was infested with 
 guerillas, who took no prisoners, but shot men down without 
 remorse. Hence, to accomplish our intent we evaded the 
 pickets and went north toward Red River until we struck 
 a corduroy road which ran parallel with the river, crossing 
 a swamp and a bayou. When we reached this road we ob- 
 served that a larger force of horsemen had recently passed over 
 it going east, as the tracks were fresh. It is very natural to 
 shrink from a mysterious danger, hence we concluded to turn 
 
 198 
 
200 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 hack west, cross the swamp and return by another road, since 
 we knew that no horse tracks in that vicinity coukl have been 
 made by the horses of our boys. We rode up to within three 
 hundred yards of the bridge, when we saw seven mounted 
 rebs standing on picket duty at the further end. They 
 had not seen us, and as we were not in search of either 
 gore or glory, we conchided to retrace our steps to camp 
 But just as we had come back to the edge of the swamp we saw 
 approaching at some distance a large force of either rebel 
 cavalry or guerillas, who saw us at the same time. Then 
 came tlie ' rub.' We were between two millstones, but, 
 happily, the one stone was smaller than the other; yet they 
 were both stones, and were rapidly coming together to 
 crush us. To say the least, we were in a sorry plight; water 
 and swamp on each side of us, guerillas and rebel cavalry at 
 each end of us, while action on our part must be immediate 
 and certain. 
 
 " I held the command, and of course the boys looked to me 
 for direction. ' Of two evils, choose the lesser ' — this flashed 
 across my mind; seven rebel cavalry were less than over two 
 hundred guerillas, so we wheeled around again, put spurs to 
 our horses, and darted forward over the corduroy roads 
 for the seven pickets at the other end of the bridge. The 
 chances were desperate, but when /nen become desperate, 
 chances soon yield to the superior force. 
 
 " On we went with the momentum of a whole regiment. 
 The pickets at the end of the bridge saw us coming, and also 
 saw us followed by two or three hundred other horsemen, 
 whom they naturally concluded were our allies, judging from 
 the bold front which we presented. We took advantage of 
 this and felt, indeed, that ' fortune favors the brave.' We 
 dashed forward, revolvers in hand ready for use, with a yell 
 that echoed fiir up and down the cypress swamp. The terror 
 we inspired by the rapidity of our motion, and the fierce de- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CtVIL WAR. 20I 
 
 termination which we carried with us, needed no additional 
 elements to convince the pickets that we were just exactly 
 what we appeared to be — four desperate men supported by 
 nearly three hundred (enemies). 
 
 " The pickets were fierce-looking fellows, however they 
 may have felt; and they seemed to have had no idea of being 
 intimidated, so that immediately upon their discovery of us, 
 which occurred when we were within about two hundred 
 yards of them, they formed in line to resist our progress, and 
 suddenly presented to our view seven of the ugliest double- 
 barreled shot-guns that I ever saw. 
 
 " After this achievement any preference of the before-men- 
 tioned evils immediately vanished from our advantage. Now 
 it was take the one evil or be taken by it. 
 
 " * Boys, spur up,' I said ' we must go right through 'em, 
 or they'll go through us.' 
 
 "'On we go!' returned one of the boys, and forward we 
 darted with a dash, a splutter and a splash. 
 
 " Our horses — trusty fellows — seemed to catch the spirit 
 of the occasion, and as we glided along my voice seemed to 
 become all-powerful as I gave out the solid command: 
 
 " ' Surrender! you black miscreants! ' 
 
 " We were then at one end of the hundred and fifty foot 
 bridge while they were at the other, raising their guns to fire. 
 But our speed was unchecked, and on we went. When we 
 had half crossed the bridge, we flourished our revolvers and I 
 yelled again: 
 
 "'Down with your guns! ' and they obeyed. 'Into the 
 river with them,' I continued, and this was also obeyed. 
 
 " What a relief it was to us as we saw those guns pitched 
 into the water; and when the splash came I tell you it was 
 the most welcome sound I ever heard! 
 
 " There was no time to lose, however, and since they were 
 all mounted we ordered them to wheel about and put spurs to 
 
202 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 their horses. Two of our party followed close behind them, 
 covering them with revolvers, while the other two rode among 
 them and disarmed them of .their sabers and revolvers. 
 
 "About the time we had taken the last revolver the 
 guerillas behind us opened fire on us at long range. Then 
 for the first time our captives realized that they had suc- 
 cumbed to a grand successful piece of their own strategy, and 
 began to curse themselves for surrendering. After crossing 
 the swamp we returned to camp with our prisoners, by an- 
 other road. The rebs followed us hotly right up to our 
 picket line, keeping a constant fire in our rear, but doing 
 no damage; and we returned their fire with about the same 
 effect. When we arrived in camp we turned the prisoners 
 over to the provost marshal, related our experience and 
 awaited the result, fully expecting to be put under arrest for 
 going outside of the lines against orders. But we escaped 
 punishment; I presume the general thought we had suffered 
 sufficiently, and had learned a good lesson." 
 
 Gen. H. H. Thomas then said: 
 
 "A day or two before the battle of Kriston, N. C, our 
 pickets near that place captured a suspicious darkey,' who 
 had been found lurking near our lines. He was an odd speci- 
 men, more than six feet tall, lean, * lantern-jawed,' with a 
 mouth of longitudinous dimensions. He was suspected of 
 being sent out by the rebels to get information, and was kept 
 at General Carter's headquarters, where he made no end of 
 fun for us. Our talk was largely of General Sherman, 
 whose advent was daily expected on his March from the Sea. 
 
 " ' Long John,' as our captive had been christened by the 
 Chicago member of the staff, was all ears; and we resolved to 
 play a joke on him. 
 
 *' A rather distinguished looking major, serving on Major- 
 General Cox's staff, happening to drop in, we tipped him 
 the wink and played him off for ' Old Cump,' asking a thou- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 203 
 
 sand questions about his march, etc. Long John's e)^es pro- 
 truded like huge saucers; and when we introduced him he 
 struck a theatrical attitude, and saluted the supposed general 
 thus: 
 
 " ' Why, bress de Lor', Mars' Sherman, I'se heeid a heap 
 'bout you! Dey done said you had hawns. Day done said 
 yo' berd come clar down to heer,' (placing an immense hand 
 on his right hip)^ ' Dey so feered o' you. Mars' Sherman, if 
 dey heer yo' name tree hundred mile off, dat town's done bin 
 captured.' 
 
 " We all shouted, except our extemporized General Sher- 
 man, who took it all as stoically as the great chieftain himself 
 would have done. 
 
 " We became satisfied of the loyalty of our altitudinous 
 darkey, and released him. When General Sherman joined us 
 at Goldsboro, we related the incident to him, and he was 
 greatly amused, replying that it was the neatest compliment 
 he had ever received." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XVII. 
 
 LAZY JIM's stratagem TO AVOID WALKING BACK TO 
 CAMP — "THEY GOT OUR FLAG" ANECDOTE OF GEN- 
 ERAL SHERMAN. 
 
 •ITH the kindling of the fagots of this camp-fire the 
 boys assembled in a goodly number, and, chatting 
 with those he knew, the scribe of the S. P. U. H. 
 appeared also, pencil in hand, as eager as ever for the spirit 
 to startle the veterans into active endeavors. The social at- 
 mosphere was just as genial, pleasant, and unruffled as ever, 
 save by the memory of the drum corps from the Freedmen^s 
 Exodus Society. It is an old saying that if you speak of a 
 certain evil individual, some of his emissaries will appear. 
 But, without even hinting that the application is practical to 
 the case in hand, it may as well be acknowledged that, after 
 the camp had received a communication announcing the re- 
 turn of the said corps, the commander suggested that a change 
 of scenery might be pleasant, and even expedient. The sug- 
 gestion was adopted without delay; and when the drum corps 
 arrived they beheld, instead of the jolly camp-fire that had 
 greeted them on their previous visit, a scene similar to the ap- 
 pearance of a camp that had been made by the almost tradi- 
 tional " Forty-Niners," on their way to the gold fields of the 
 Pacific slope. 
 
 On the other hand, with their usually rapid method ol 
 doing things, the veterans and the S. P. U. H. accomplished 
 the change of camp to a secret place in a very short while, 
 and all fear was then allayed. Once more everybody lent a 
 
 204 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 205 
 
 smile and a hearty hand clasp to his comrade, and amid the 
 crackling of the twigs and branches which the ruddy flames 
 were devouring, many a jest caused a laugh to go round. It 
 was pleasant enough to listen to the witticisms and jokes, but 
 the aforesaid scribe greatly desired a longer story, and agree- 
 ably to a nudge, a veteran called on Leonard Oliver, 13th 
 West Virginia Infantry, for a yarn. Taken somewhat aback 
 at the invitation, he pleaded forgetfulness, but a comrade 
 prodded his memory by saying, " Tell us about Jim Frye, 
 Leonard ! " 
 
 « Well, I can do that if you want to hear it." 
 
 " Why, of course," responded several. 
 
 "Here goes then. We were camped at Winfield, W. Va., 
 and we had a fellow by the name of Jim Frye in our regi- 
 ment, who was shiftless, good-natured, witty and — lazy. 
 Partly because of his imperturbable good-nature and partly be- 
 cause he was too lazy to parry the attacks made upon him, 
 Frye became the butt of all the raillery and fun abroad in 
 camp. 
 
 " Well, one morning some of the boys were lounging in a 
 store near the suburbs of the town, discussing the probability 
 of the truth of certain rumors afloat to the eflTect that rebel 
 spies had been seen about the outskirts of the camp, and that 
 various depredations had been committed, in which small 
 stock and poultry had suffered to an alarming extent. 
 
 " During the discussion, Frye, who sat astride of the coal 
 box, whittling and spitting at the shavings he made, kept a 
 rem^ikable silence, all the while eying the floor meditativeh , 
 as if he had never considered the fact that pork meant ham. 
 sausages, 'fat, salt and unctuous,' and fowls meant savory 
 stews, and gravy, and various other luxuries not always pur- 
 chasable in camp — though seldom wanting. 
 
 " One of Jim's good qualities consisted of being a hunter. 
 When he felt like it he would sally out with his gun, and 
 
206 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 seldom returned to camp without having bagged some game. 
 The air had become thick with stories of the rebels and their 
 misdoings in the country, and the people in the neighborhood 
 were in a continual state of alarm, and the troops were kept 
 wide awake, and on the alert. 
 
 " It was at this time that Jim announced his intention to 
 his comrades in the store, to go out for a day's hunt. 
 
 " ' You look out,' called one of the boys, 'or you'll get 
 nabbed and hauled into camp here for a reb! ' 
 
 "'Dunno as I'd object to that, seein' as the tramp back 
 allers sets hard on me anyways,' answered Jim, as he saunt- 
 ered off, and, as he went, a person of fine observation might 
 have noted Jim's eyes light up as if the friendly admonition 
 had suo^g-ested a brilliant idea to him. 
 
 " It was a bright day in February, and patches of snow 
 gleamed and sparkled in the sunlight here and there upon the 
 hills; the air was bracing and almost chilly, but the warmth 
 of the sunshine bespoke soft ground and mud later in the day. 
 Soft fleecy clouds, lovely in their white repose, floated in the 
 blue heavens, and rested lovingly against the great silent 
 hills. 
 
 "Jim had a great deal of what we fellows dubbed * poetry 
 of nature,' and he was not altogether blind as a bat to the 
 beauty around him. Indeed, the day was so serene and de- 
 lightful, the forest so quiet and restful, and he found the air 
 so exhilarating that he wandered on many miles further than 
 he usually did, in search of game. Once down to work, how- 
 ever, he had no end of luck in filling his game bag. True, 
 the quails kept provokingly shy of him, but woe unto the un- 
 suspecting chicken that came within range of his gun. ISn 
 matter if the rabbits did go skurrying across the fields. Jim 
 solaced himself with a ten-pound gobbler that strayed up to 
 him. The day had worn pretty well along when the vivid 
 question arose in his mind how to get his spoils into camp, 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 207 
 
 for, as he had averred, the 'home stretch' bore hard on him, 
 and his indolent nature recoiled from the exertion. 
 
 " At this juncture, an idea occurred to him, and he forth- 
 with proceeded to put it into execution. The contents of the 
 game bag he secured in a manner intended to disarm sus- 
 picion, and defy inspection. This done, he set out for the 
 farmhouse nearest at hand. The worthy farmer and his 
 boys were engaged in unloading a cart in the yard, and thev 
 eyed Jim's approach suspiciously, a fact which Jim noted as 
 being propitious to the furtherance of his scheme. 
 
 " In accordance with his request, Jim was taken into the 
 house and regaled with ' a cold bite,' after doing justice to 
 which, he casually remarked that he was a rebel soldier, and 
 supplemented his words with the startling announcement that 
 the Confederate troops were within six hours' march of that lo- 
 cality. He also dwelt long and significantly upon the harrow- 
 ing fact that the rebels were preparing to scatter ruin and 
 desolation through the country and lay waste the farms, burn 
 dwellings and make prisoners of the farmers themselves. 
 
 "Jim was not slow to discover that his words had not 
 fallen unheeded. Fear and consternation were depicted upon 
 the faces of those around him, mysterious glances were ex- 
 changed between members of the family, and faint whispers 
 betokened suppressed excitement. Nothing loth, Jim seated 
 himself before the fire and awaited results, which, as he fondly 
 hoped, would complete his scheme. He fully expected the 
 farmer and his sons would make a prisoner of him and take 
 him to camp, and as hasty preparations of some kind began 
 in other parts of the house, he felt certain of success. 
 
 " There was flitting here and there, and hurrying back 
 and forth through the chambers overhead, and excited con- 
 sultations were held by the family. He found it hard to re- 
 press a chuckle as he waited in momentary expectancy of the 
 desired arrest. But the hours grew apace, and not a finger 
 
2o8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 did the patriotic farmer raise toward making him a prisoner. 
 The bustling and hurrying about ceased, and the house be- 
 came suddenly and strang^ely quiet. It was unaccountable, 
 and Jim concluded to investigate matters a little. He peeped 
 into several rooms and finally discovered that the premises 
 were deserted, and it dawned upon his mind that the whole 
 family had given him the slip, and, somewhat crest-fallen, he 
 shouldered his gun and weighty game bag, and set out for 
 the next house to try his joke again. 
 
 " Upon arriving at the house he found its only occupant 
 was a purring cat stretched on the carpet before the fire, 
 while the disordered condition of things told him that his story 
 about the rebs had preceded him. Jim began to think that 
 his little plot was no good, and by the time he had gone into 
 several houses along the road he was sure of it, and, tired of 
 stalking from house to house, he set off for camp across the 
 muddy fields, and reached there before ' drill.' 
 
 " It was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon that the coun- 
 try folk began to pour into the town of Winfield. By 6 
 o'clock the town was a stirring mass of anxious looking men, 
 white faced women, and crying children. 
 
 " Our colonel was nonplussed. He had made several at- 
 tempts to find the true cause for the existing state of alarm, 
 but having failed, he took extra precautions and doubled the 
 pickets, all of which had a tendency to augment the excite- 
 ment. All that could be extracted from any of the coolest 
 headed of the citizens was, that a suspicious lookmg character 
 had been skulking about through the country, and that he had 
 stopped at the farmhouses and warned the people of the 
 dangerous proximity of the rebels. All the stories differed, 
 but one fact was noticeable, and that was to the effect that the 
 description of the suspicious person was about the same in 
 every instance. The mention of a pair of new blue over-alls 
 conjured in the Colonel's mind the image of ' Lazy Jim FryCo' 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 209 
 
 " Shortly before nightfall, unlucky Jim put in his appear- 
 ance. He looked most 'sesthetically weary,' and his new blue 
 over-alls were spattered with mud by his long and tiresome 
 tramp; moreover, it needed no second glance at his habili- 
 ments and accoutrements to make sure that they were identi- 
 cal with those worn by the often described individual who 
 had been the cause of the present alarm. A new light 
 dawned upon the Colonel's mind. He ordered Jim to be put 
 under arrest and brought before him. The farmer who had 
 furnished Jim the * cold bite' identified him as the self-avowed 
 rebel who had frightened him and his family by his story 
 about the rebels, and numerous others said that he was the 
 same man whom they had seen in the woods. 
 
 "Jim, seeing that he was in for it, confessed the truth, and 
 told the whole story. 
 
 "At 9 o'clock the detachment of cavalry sent out to 
 reconnoiter, returned and reported the country quiet for 
 miles around. The citizens, being assured there was no 
 danger, soon wended their way to their respective homes, 
 and by midnight order and quiet was obtained. 
 
 "And Jim! Well, Jim's trouble had just fairly begun. 
 Colonel Brown was too vexed over the affair to allow the 
 offense to pass unpunished, but bless you, you could never 
 guess the manner of punishment! It was this: Every day 
 for ten consecutive days, at dress parade, Jim was marched out, 
 accompanied by fife and drum, and after being assisted to mount 
 to his shoulder a hod full of bricks, he was required to carry it 
 up and down before the line of men six times. Jim was an 
 overly modest chap at the best, and to be so made the cyno- 
 sure of all eyes was too much for him, and being born chron- 
 ically tired, too, he was fearfully cut up about it. 
 
 " Even at this late day I can see poor old Jim's abashed 
 countenance, red and streaming with perspiration as he car- 
 ried his heavy load up and down, keeping step to the inspir- 
 H 
 
210 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 ing strains of the fife and beats of the drum, and I can ahnost 
 hear the banter of his comrades and the laughter with 
 which they assailed his ears. 
 
 "'There's nothing like serving yer country, old feller! ' a 
 rollicking friend would call out. 
 
 "'Well, 'taint all honey an' pie, mebbe, but Lordy, the 
 glory of it! ' Jim would reply, and so it went, day after (ia\', 
 until his time was out." 
 
 " That's one of the ways to punish a fellow that we had 
 too, comrade Oliver," said one, who sat on the other side of 
 the fire, " but its' nothing to being ' bucked and gagged ' for 
 taking a snooze while on duty, I can tell you!" 
 
 " By the by," said another veteran, "one of the most heart- 
 touching incidents that occurred during my army life hap- 
 pened with a little drummer boy. There had been some sharp 
 fighting and General McPherson, among others, had been 
 killed. We had been hurried to the field expecting to take part 
 in a great battle, but we didn't arrive in time to do much work, 
 and in an hour or two we were ordered back to camp. 
 While on our way, the captain and I turned off to visit an 
 improvised field hospital which stood among some trees. 
 
 " We saw a great many of our boys who were wounded, 
 and among them was a little drummer boy who had been in 
 the fight and had had his leg amputated just above the knee. 
 The chaplain dismounted, and expressed to him his sympathy 
 for the loss of his leg, and tried to soothe the little fellow's 
 feelings, as he was crying bitterly. In reply, the little hero 
 sobbed out: 
 
 " ' Oh ! It isn't that — that's nothing — I — I — don't — I don't 
 care so much about that — they got our flag ! that's what 
 hurts mey 
 
 As the last words of the speaker fell upon his hearers 
 a quiet pervaded the circle about the fire, and more than one 
 eye glistened with unshed tears, as the full force and power 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 211 
 
 of the incident made its way into the hearts of those who 
 heard its narration. It seemed as though a breath from the 
 past had whispered into each ear a vivid recital of the fiendish 
 carnage and brutal cruelty that, like a whirlwind from the 
 innermost regions of hell, swept over our fair land; and eacli 
 one held his peace and seemed conning the pages of memory 
 where, inscribed in characters dimmed b}^ the blotting fingcis 
 of time, were many a tale of bitterest suffering and keenest 
 anguish — many an incident wherein the heroism, that only 
 the love of country can excite, had figured in bold relief. 
 
 The silence, however, was soon broken by a battle- 
 scarred individual who carried a musket throughout the en- 
 tire " unpleasantness." He said, " The only time I saw Gen- 
 eral Sherman was after we had failed to break Joe Johnson's 
 front at Kenesaw Mountain. It was plain that more flanking 
 must be done, so the ' Great Flanker ' ordered General Cox's 
 division of the 23d Corps to make a detour and threaten the 
 enemy's left. 
 
 " This involved a long march, and General Sherman made 
 his way to the top of a high hill, where we were lying, to en- 
 able him to overlook the country and see operations better. He 
 sat on a stump with a map spread out on his knees, and was 
 giving General Cox directions as to his line of march. After 
 doing this, he mounted his horse and started away, but after 
 having gone away a little distance he shouted back, ' See 
 here, Cox, burn a few barns occasionally, as you go along. 
 I can't understand those signal flags, but I know what smoke 
 
CAMP-FIRE XVIIL 
 
 MANY WERE CALLED, BUT ONE WAS CHOSEN — A SAD OC- 
 CURRENCE — " LET THE DEAD AND THE BEAUTIFUL 
 
 .ISSOLUTION of the sacred ties of the family, the 
 severe cutting apart of those tender affections which 
 bind the child to the parent, and t' ' life of woe and in- 
 satiable sorrow which follow, are among the almost insuffer- 
 able results of the fierce cruelty of war. These results, too, 
 endure, notwithstanding the benefits they may have, and their 
 constancy does not cease when soulless governments make 
 peace at the close of years of military operations. The sad 
 effects are felt in, alas! too many American homes, even at 
 the present time — now! twenty years since the war! Twenty 
 summers have shed their glowing warmth over the old 
 battle-fields! twenty autumns have shifted their melancholy 
 smoke and sunshine above the sacred cemeteries! twenty 
 winters, with their chilling snows and rains, have iced the tree 
 boughs that droop over far away graves! twenty springs, with 
 their cheering bird-calls, have spread their smiling floral cover- 
 ing, like Charity's peaceful mantle, over all the wide country 
 where the campaigning was; and yet the heart strings then 
 broken will remain unstrung until the soothing hand of death 
 shall softly entwine them for all time. 
 
 The verification of this can be multiplied many times; but 
 only one specification need be made here — an incident by Dr. 
 A. Hard: 
 
 " The battle of Williamsburg, Va., was fought May 5, 
 
 212 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 213 
 
 1862. It was the first great battle In which our regiment 
 (the 8th Illinois Cavalry) participated, and as we had never 
 seen any engagement much heavier than a skirmish, of course 
 we were very curious to observe the battle carefully, and also 
 to go over the battle-field after the fight, and witness the deso- 
 lation wrought. In going over the field an incident occurred 
 which was of such touching interest that I, for my part, never 
 tire of remembering it as among the pathetic incidents of the 
 war. 
 
 " A Massachusetts chaplain who had just arrived was 
 among the ones most anxious to go over the field, and in 
 company with our chaplain. Reverend Matlock, soon reached 
 the place where the dead were being arranged in rows for 
 burial. 
 
 " A detail of soldiers were bringing the dead from the 
 woods and * slashings,' and laying them side by side to re- 
 ceive the last sad rite. Other soldiers were identifying and 
 marking them by pinning a card or slip of paper on the 
 breast of each corpse, while still others were digging the 
 long trench in which to place the bodies that were to be 
 covered from sight forever. 
 
 « The Massachusetts chaplain informed Mr. Matlock that 
 upon leaving home he had promised Mrs. Benson, a widow 
 lady, that he would look after her boy, Willie, an only son, 
 beloved by a Christian mother and anxious friends, who were 
 awaiting some tidings of his safety. 
 
 " ' Can you tell me where I can find such a boy? ' asked 
 the Chaplain, after describing him. 
 
 "' What is his regiment?' asked Mr. Matlock in return. 
 
 " ' I haven't been able to find out,' responded the Chaplain. 
 
 " ' Perhaps the regiment you seek is burying the dead 
 yonder,' suggested Mr. Matlock, knowing that it was a 
 Massachusetts regiment then performing that office. 
 
 "The chaplain was now in a very trying position. He 
 
2 14 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 hardly dared introduce the subject to the soldiers through 
 fear that Willie had indeed met with some misfortune; but 
 mustering courage, he asked of one soldier: 
 
 " * Was your regiment engaged in the fight?' 
 
 "*No,'wasthe gratifying intelligence received in reply; 
 ' we came upon the field just as the battle closed.' 
 
 " « Well,' said he, ' I have promised a widow lady to look 
 after her boy, her only support, and the comfort and the pride 
 of her life. I almost feared to ask about him ; but knowing 
 that you have not been in the battle gives me relief and more 
 grace to inquire further.' 
 
 " * Oh, we had just a little brush with the Johnnies,' re- 
 turned the soldier. 
 
 " ' The true presentiment came upon the Chaplain like a 
 flash. He was a strong man and could bravely face the life- 
 destroying' fire of the enemy, and call it almost welcome 
 when compared with the severe trial through v/hich he must 
 soon pass. He turned deathly pale as the soldier spoke, and 
 it required a manly struggle to control his feelings. The 
 knowledge that he must meet the anxious, waiting mother 
 with sad news, was very vivid. How like a thunderbolt it 
 would pierce her heart with a wound that could not be 
 healed ! 
 
 '* As the Chaplain hesitated for a moment he attracted the 
 attention of the by-standing comrades, who were also visibly 
 affected ; and as his cheeks flushed, and the tears glistened in 
 his eyes, he inquired : 
 
 " ' Then can you give me any information of Willie Ben- 
 son? That was his name.' 
 
 " ' Willie Benson ? Yes. We have just buried Willie Ben- 
 son; he was the only one of our regiment who was killed or 
 injured! ' " 
 
 For a reason which needs no interpreting, the chats sud- 
 denly ceased, after the above incident had been related; and 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 215 
 
 all was quiet for several minutes, until a comrade from Com- 
 pany F, of the 78th New York, told this: 
 
 "The last incident has reminded me of one that occurred 
 at the battle of Peach Tree Creek, July 19 and 30, 1864. 
 Our regiment was in the fight, and about half an hour before 
 the close of the firing a shot pierced the breast of J. W. 
 Gould, one of my companions, and he fell, breathing his last 
 in a few minutes. He had been a favorite, and of course we 
 could not retreat or leave the spot until we had given him a 
 fitting burial. So three of the boys and myselt assumed the 
 sad duty. 
 
 " We carried him to the bank of the stream, laid his 
 body upon the grass, and dug him a neat grave. When 
 all was ready a prayer was said, we lowered his body and 
 shoveled in the earth. Then we placed a cypress board 
 at the head and planted a weeping willow over the grave; 
 and when this last rite was performed, we departed, after 
 singing: 
 
 " * Let the dead and the beautiful rest ; 
 
 Make his grave 'neath the willow by the stream, 
 Where the wind-harps shall whisper o'er the blest, 
 Like the song of some angel in our dream. 
 
 " Oh, so young and fair, 
 With his bright golden hair, 
 Let him sleep, let him sleep; 
 Let him sleep 'neath the willow by the stream.* " 
 
CAMP-FIRE XIX. 
 
 A REMINISCENCE OF GENERAL NELSON — A SHAM BATTLE 
 DEMOLISHES A SUTLEr's STORE. 
 
 aRIGADIER-GENERAL I. C. B. SUMAN related 
 ail experience at this camp-fire which includes a rem- 
 iniscence of General Nelson that well illustrates the 
 private soldier's appreciation of the difference between the 
 officer educated at West Point and the self-made commander 
 of volunteers. Said he: 
 
 " I recollect an experience which may be of some use to 
 the Society for the Preservation of Unpublished History. At 
 the time of which I speak I was Lieutenant-Colonel of the 
 9th Indiana Infantry, a regiment as reliable, brave and prompt 
 as was ever inustered into service. 
 
 " We had just come from the mountains of East Tennes- 
 see with the rest of the brigade, — the other regiments being the 
 6th and the 41st Ohio, — which was commanded by General 
 Nelson. 
 
 " The General had left the navy to take command of this 
 brigade; and, technically speaking, he was well fitted for his 
 office, being thoroughly versed in military tactics, and he also 
 had other qualifications. He was tall, handsome, with black 
 moustache and beard, would weigh three hundred pounds; 
 had a keen eye, and prided himself on his military bearing. 
 Moreover, he was well educated, could speak seven diffi^rent 
 languages; but withal, he was arrogant, and especially over- 
 
 ii6 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 217 
 
 bearing when he was in liquor. He forgot, like many another 
 officer in the Civil War, that he was commanding Ameri- 
 cans j that his soldiers had volunteered to cast their lives into 
 the balance, that the nation might be saved ; that he was 
 ordering around men who could think as well as himself, 
 and that these men could not be lorded over like the regular 
 soldiers who were compelled to serve out a certain term 
 of enlistment. 
 
 " General Nelson was right in his purpose to enforce 
 strictly the rules of war, but he often did it at the cost of re- 
 spect from those who were to win his laurels for him. No 
 doubt it made him angry to see the volunteer soldiers have so 
 many privileges, but instead of submitting with at least an 
 apparent good will, he attempted to ignore these by the 
 strictest discipline. 
 
 " Yet he had his favorites, even in companies and regi- 
 ments. He dressed well himself, prided himself somewhat 
 on his fine personal appearance, and naturally had more ad- 
 miration for those of the soldiers who kept themselves neat 
 than those who were ragged from hard fighting and rough 
 experience. It must not be understood that we do not like 
 to see soldiers dress well (or anybody else, for that matter), 
 but when cannon balls are cutting men down by the scores, and 
 bullets are clipping off an ear here and a linger there, or break- 
 ing a bone in some other place, it is no time for a display of 
 silks and satins. 
 
 "The 6th Ohio boys dressed well, and they were good fight- 
 ers, too; but their good clothes had been furnished in part by 
 contributions from their officers' pockets. It was not possible for 
 all officers to do this, on account of not all having large bank 
 accounts; and we did think that, after we had done our best 
 and bravest on the field of battle, it was a little hard to be 
 the subjects of untimely remarks because of our clothin^^, 
 which we could not make better in any degree. 
 
2l8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 " We had no enmity toward the 6th Ohio boys, and they 
 appreciated this; but when the superior officers would dis- 
 criminate against us because we could not make as much dis- 
 pla}-- on dress parade, we thought it a little unjust." 
 
 General Suman was requested to go into detail somewhat, 
 in order that the object of the incident might not be misun- 
 derstood; that it might be exemplary rather than personal. 
 
 " Well, to return, our regiment had just come from the 
 mountains of East Tennessee, and indeed, were a pretty rough 
 looking lot. In accurate observance of the laws of war, how- 
 ever. General Nelson prohibited all petty foraging for subsist- 
 ence. So I told the boys to be cautious about violating the Gen- 
 eral's orders, but that they might steal all the chickens they 
 could find, so long as they did not get caught at it, and you may 
 know that my permission was more literally observed than 
 were the General's orders, because hungry soldiers must be 
 fed. I believed like Napoleon, that the quickest way to con- 
 quer the enemy was to live off of them, and the boys heartily 
 agreed with me, because this was the most satisfactory and 
 most practical. 
 
 " Nevertheless, the boys were conscientious, even though 
 they were soldiers. It is not necessary for one to lay down 
 his manhood when he takes up the dress and arms of war; 
 and this sentiment was never better illustrated than in our 
 Civil War. But for some reason the graduates of the mili- 
 tary academy failed to appreciate this fact. General Nelson 
 among the rest. He could hardly be taken as an accurate 
 type of this class of officers, yet withal, his course of action, in 
 many respects, made him a good illustration. One particular, 
 however, is certain. General Nelson imposed a very severe 
 discipline which was probably the result of his college train- 
 ing. But his object may have been to force his subordinates 
 into winning greater laurels for himself. In this it would 
 seem that he was ambitious, and that he forgot to pat men on 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 219 
 
 the back instead of in the face. Although from the navy, he 
 failed to realize that 
 
 Ambition is a fearful ship to figiit with; 
 
 It tosses man's imagination up 
 
 To the shakv pinnacle of his desires; 
 
 Then lets him fall a flat, insipid thing, 
 
 With only lax, low spirits in his frame. 
 
 It takes away his sleep ; it both consumes 
 
 And quickens youthful hearts, which thus grow good, 
 
 Then great. 
 
 But still Ambition yields at times, 
 And in that weakness is God-given; for. 
 When Judgment's captain, and Obedience 
 The helmsman, then Ambition is compelled 
 To take that safe, though unsailed stream which flows 
 In triumph through the ocean of the world — 
 Clear of the rocks and reefs of circumstance. 
 Then, with a virtuous, well -trained crew, 
 She may at will seek her desired harbor. 
 
 " Also, General Nelson was very watchful to be sure that 
 his orders were always carried out. Yet one incident oc- 
 curred concerning which he took the wrong position. As 
 we were marching by a farmhouse, about 4 o'clock one 
 afternoon, two of the boys suddenly concluded to have chicken 
 for supper that night, as there were a large number of fine 
 ones in the barn-yard. The boys remembered my permission, 
 and also remembered the caution about the General's orders. 
 Hence they thought it best to buy the chickens this time, pro- 
 vided they could succeed in making the proper kind of bargain. 
 
 " Leaving the ranks, they approached the house and in- 
 quired of the lady who met them at the door: 
 
 " ' Have you any chickens for sale.^ ' 
 
 " The woman happened to be of Southern sj^mpathy, and 
 of course very radical; so she replied: 
 
 "*No! I don'c sell no chickens to Yankees.' 
 
 " ' Wait till Yankees try to buy 'em, madam,' returned 
 
220 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 one of the boys; ' we simply wanted to know whether you 
 wished to sell a few of your fowls.' 
 
 "'No! I don't sell no chickens to Yankees,' repeated the 
 woman. 
 
 " Knowing that coffee was scarce, the soldier concluded 
 to tempt the lady with some real genuine coffee in a trade. 
 Hence he ventured: 
 
 "' Well, madam, how will you trade us some chickens for 
 Lincoln coffee?'" 
 
 '< ' D-o-n-'t know,' she replied slowly, with a remarkable 
 change of temper visible on her countenance. 
 
 " ' We will give you two pounds of coffee for two chicken^,' 
 said the soldier. 
 
 " ' I'll do 't if you'll give me three pounds,' replied she. 
 
 "'No, we can't do it; we have only two pounds with us.' 
 
 " ' I'll do it fur three pounds,' she still insisted. 
 
 "'All right; we'll give you three pounds if you'll come 
 down to the sutler's about 8 o'clock this evening,' he 
 agreed, thinking that would be an effectual stop to any fur- 
 ther parley. 
 
 "''Nuffsaid — the trade's done made. Whar'll I come?' 
 
 " This occurred about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and 
 knowing that the column would soon go into camp, the soldier 
 answered : 
 
 " ' We will probably go into camp in a short time, not 
 more than a mile or two farther on; and when you come 
 ^lown inquire for the sutler of the 9th Indiana Infaniry. 
 vV^e will pay him for the other pound of coffee, so that 
 : will be ready for you;' and with the last remark the 
 toys took their leave and departed on their way. 
 
 " Prompted by a desire to make sure of her due, the lady 
 came into camp some half hour or more before the appointed 
 time — sometimes it happens that suspicion and distrust pre- 
 clude honesty. So it was in this case. Hence the fear that 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 221 
 
 she would not get her coffee made the lady very nervous; and 
 after finding the sutler's place she concluded to satisfy her 
 eagerness by demanding the coffee at once. 
 
 " The soldiers were delayed and did not get into camp as 
 early as they expected, the result of which was that the sutler 
 knew nothing of their agreement to have the pound of coffee 
 delivered to the woman. Of course his stinginess would not 
 allow him to part with a pound of his goods on any assurance 
 that the woman could give, so that great disappointment 
 took the place of her great expectations, which could not have 
 been otherwise from hasty action; and she was so enraged 
 by this state of affairs that she at once sought headquarters 
 to have the soldiers arrested. 
 
 " The affair was reported to General Nelson, who was 
 equally enraged at finding his orders apparently so grossly 
 disregarded. He ordered the immediate arrest of the soldiers, 
 who were soon found and brought before him. They were 
 not allowed time to carry out their part of the agreement, or 
 even to make restoration ; but were then and there subjected 
 to the discipline, being strung up by the thumbs. 
 
 ** The general then sent for me, as the soldiers belonged to 
 my regiment. He held me responsible for the disobedience, 
 but I determined to have a fair hearing, so that when he 
 informed me that the soldiers had been tied up by the 
 thumbs, I at once protested, 
 
 "' I insist on their punishment,' said he, * because my orders 
 must he obeyed^ 
 
 "* i think there is some mistake. General,' 1 replied, ' and 
 will presume to suggest that the boys be turned loose until we 
 can inquire into the matter, at least,' 
 
 " ' I insist that my orders shall be obeyed,' he returned. 
 
 « I Very well,' said I; 'but it will not do to forget that you 
 are commanding volunteers, and I beg to warn you that it 
 will be better for all concerned in this matter, if you release 
 the soHiers at once,' 
 
222 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "But he would not, in his condition of mind at that time^ 
 consent to any concessions. I returned to my tent. It v/as 
 not long before the situation of affairs was understood b} 
 nearly all the boys in the regiment, who were much irritated. 
 They determined upon the release of their comrades, and it 
 did not require much time for the practical demonstration of 
 their wishes. A number of them quietly gathered near the 
 general's tent, and each prepared to assist in requiring redress. 
 One of the boys ascertained the general's exact position 
 and reported to the rest immediately. He found that the 
 general was lying down, so that a volley discharged at the top 
 of the tent would do no damage to his person. 
 
 "To think was to act. The volley was discharged; and 
 the boys were not careful to aim precisely at the extreme top 
 part of the tent. As soon as the general comprehended the 
 situation, to do which required no great extension of chro- 
 nology, he cautiously slipped away. 
 
 " Not long afrer his departure three or four bullets pierced 
 the tent at various points three or four feet from the ground ; 
 but as soon as it was found that the general had virtually sur- 
 rendered, the firing ceased. Some explanations and retractions 
 were made, after which the accustomed pomp and dignity of 
 camp prevailed. The soldiers were unstrung ' as to their 
 thumbs,' and were allowed to fulfill their agreement with the 
 female poultry vender, who went joyfully homeward with her 
 pound of coffee. 
 
 " We marched on to the field of Shiloh, where we arrived 
 in time to be almost, if not quite, the first participants. The 
 battle commenced eariy on the bright Sunday morning of 
 April 6, 1862 — a day too calm and bright, after the previous 
 few days of very inclement weather, to be desecrated by the 
 harsh sounds of war. But the armies did not stop for what 
 they considered sentimentalism. The Johnnies came pouring 
 right down upon us before we had been given time to make 
 
534 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 our toilets, which consisted principally of shouldering arms. 
 
 ** My regiment was in the front, and my original company, 
 numbering sixty-three, were thrown still further forward as 
 skirmishers. The first sharp contest had ended, and many of 
 the boys lay around us wounded, dying and dead. Then the 
 enemy came on again. We stood our ground. The 41st 
 Ohio regiment was in our rear, and the 6th Ohio to our left. 
 The shells were flying thick and fast, and the explosions were 
 frequent. Things in front looked discouraging. But our 
 boys had no thought of retreating, although the shrapnel shot 
 would plow through us, creating real terror, and bursting 
 among the 41st Ohio boys. Of course this compelled them 
 to retreat, which left us without support. 
 
 " It was now only 8 o'clock in the morning, but the 
 mortality in our regiment had been fearful. Thirty-four out 
 of sixty in my old company had been killed. But the boys 
 were still firm, staring death in the face. In this situation, 
 General Nelson came riding by. He saw the boys standing 
 like trees — some fallen, some shattered, some untouched and 
 immovable; and he could also see the desperate expression on 
 their countenances. Ordinarily this would have stimulated 
 the general to anger; but this time he could do nothing more 
 than admire the firmness of the boys who plainly showed an 
 almost uncontrollable hatred for him. But the general pur- 
 sued a diflferent course from harshness. His heart seemed 
 deeply touched, and, as the old man passed on down the line, 
 the tears trickled down his cheek as he spoke: 
 
 «'Ah! volunteers are the men to fight after all. Believe 
 me, m}^ brave boys, I bear you no ill will.' 
 
 "' Three cheers for General Nelson!' called out the boys, 
 after saluting him ; and the chorus that went up was sufficient 
 evidence that the general had been forgiven. 
 
 "'Hear! hear!' responded the general when he thought 
 they had cheered sufficiently. ' I shall give the 9th Indiana 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 225 
 
 as fine colors as any regiment ever had. I do this in order 
 that your people at home may know of my good feeling for 
 you, and that history may record this affair.' 
 
 " And true to promise," concluded General Suman, " after 
 General Nelson's death. General Crittenden presented us our 
 tiag in behalf of General Nelson and the State of Kentucky." 
 
 " While listening to the previous narrative I was reminded 
 of the funniest incident that came under my observation dur- 
 ing the March to the Sea," said George EUers, 1 1 3th Ohio 
 Infantry. 
 
 "We will be delighted to have you relate the story," said 
 one of the S. P U. H. 
 
 " It was this," said comrade Ellers. " There had been a 
 sutler following our brigade for some two or three months, 
 and he was one of the most disagreeable men in camp. He 
 used every artifice to take advantage of the boys, and never 
 allowed an opportunity to escape by means of which he could 
 rob them of their money. It was just after tlie battle of 
 Goldsboro, back of Kenesaw Mountain, while we were in 
 camp, that a plan was concocted to prevent the odious sutler 
 from doing further mischief. The scheme was to have a 
 sham battle, and in the melee stampede over his tent. 
 Accordingly the 98th and 121st Ohio regiments were formed 
 in line as adversaries near by the sutler's tent, and the rest of 
 the brigade stood near at hand as spectators. After all was 
 in readiness the 121st charged the 98th, and drove them back; 
 then the 98th sallied and pressed their adve; aries to their for- 
 mer position, after which the 98th reformed directly in front 
 of the sutler's tent. Immediately the 121st charged again, 
 and came down on the 98th like a whirlwind, all of them 
 yelling like demons. The 98th broke and fell back, and as 
 the laughing, yelling, howling mass swept along, some of the 
 boys cut the ropes of the tent and in a trice the sutler's stock 
 was scattered over half an acre of ground. Every man who 
 15 
 
220 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 could grabbed some article and made way with it, and in 
 less time than it takes to tell it, over $3,000 worth of 
 goods had vanished into the oblivion of haversacks and other 
 secret places. 
 
 " The sutler fought like a wild-cat to save his property. 
 He seized a cheese-knife and made savage attempts to mutilate 
 some of the boys, but they were too many for him. They 
 disarmed him, and pushed him about and fell on him so inces- 
 santly that he had no time to find another weapon, and when 
 he came to himself he was five hundred yards from the site of 
 his now ruined store, 
 
 " The shout of laughter and merriment that went up as 
 the joke dawned upon the spectators, created a perfect bed- 
 lam. Everybody enjoyed the fun, and the boys of the 98th 
 and i2ist were richer by some thousands in the way of com- 
 modities and camp luxuries. 
 
 " The result of the sport was that a search was ordered 
 from headquarters for the stolen goods, but not a dollar's 
 worth was returned to the discomfited sutler. I never saw 
 as much/un crowded into five minutes in my life, and many a 
 time have I laughed over that day's sport with some comrade 
 who participated in the charge upon our sutler. 
 
 " While I have the ' floor,' " continue 1 comrade Ellers, 
 "let me tell you a little anecdote of Capt. Chas. P. Gorman, 
 of Co. A, and I will have done." 
 
 " All right," we exclaimed, and settled back into .» om- 
 fbrtable position, and lighted a Key West with a burnin^Lj 
 brand from the fire. 
 
 " We were before Kenesaw Mountain," went on comrade 
 Ellers, "and were on a charge against the enemy across an open 
 field. The fire of musketry was sharp, and the bullets were 
 whistling among us as thick and fast as raindrops. The boys 
 were dropping, and the line was fast becoming broken. The 
 situation was desperate. The field was fully a half mile in 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 227 
 
 width and the chances of reaching the other side were decid- 
 edly against us. 
 
 " Captain Gorman was a German and as brave a man 
 as there was in the army. His fund of humor was inexhaust- 
 ible, and everybody in the company liked him. 
 
 "Just at the moment when the line faltered and was 
 ;ibout to fall back, the captain shouted: 
 
 ' ' Vich vould you rather do or pe in yer Taddy's haymow, 
 poys?' 
 
 « In an instant the humor of the remark was caught, and 
 the self-possession of the boys returned, and with a hurrah the 
 line rushed on until it occupied the position to which it had 
 been ordered." 
 
 Another veteran, upon whose face the light of the flames 
 fell in a pleasing way, remarked: 
 
 « I was told the following by General Scofield while we 
 were on our way from Wilmington to Beaufort : ' A few 
 days after our troops had taken possession of Wilmington, a 
 large, good-looking negro made his way into my headquar- 
 ters one morning, and asked: 
 
 "'Is you de irin'ral of dese people, sah? 
 
 "'Yes,' I replied. 
 
 " ' Is you de biggest ginral dat is heah, sah? ' 
 
 "'Yes, I think so,' I answered, 'what do you wish?' 
 
 " ' Well sah,' continued my sable inquisitor, ' when we 
 black people hearn dat de Yankees v/as a comin', we knowed 
 dey'd be a big racket, an' me an' de rest of us moved into de 
 swamps, sah, an' dere dey all is, sah, 'bout fo' or five hundred 
 of 'em. An' we hearn dat de Yankees had done tuk Wil- 
 mington, an' dat de ole flag was up! 
 
 "' We's mighty anxshus to know de troof an' I'se come in 
 sah, to find out whether it^s so, an' if it is so, an' you had come 
 to stay, den I've to fiah a joy gun, sah! ' 
 
 "'Well, we've taken Wilmington, Sambo, and the old 
 
228 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 flag is up,' said I, ' and we have come to stay too, but what's 
 that about a joy gun?' 
 
 " ' Why, sah,' continued the negro, ' if eberything was 
 all right an' de ole flag is up, den I was to fiah a joy gun, an' 
 dey'd know all about it out in de swamps, sah, an den dey'J 
 come in!' 
 
 " ' I think I understand you now,' said I, ' and I will have 
 ^ joy gun fired.' 
 
 " ' So I went up to the fortifications and had one of the 
 largest guns fired, and in the course of the afternoon, in came 
 a great crowd of contrabands from the swamps, and every 
 mother's son and daughter of them were shouting: 
 
 "' Glory! — glory I de ole flag is up — de ole flag is up!'" 
 
 i 
 
CAMP-FIRE XX. 
 
 " WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER " A CONTINUATION OF 
 
 CAMP-FIRE XVIII A " MULEY " YOKE OF " MULEY " 
 
 OXEN. 
 
 tAST evening but one," began Governor G., " the in- 
 cidents of the camp-fire reminded me of a touching ex- 
 perience of which I omitted to speak at the time, but 
 with permission, will give it now." 
 
 " Let us hear it," called out the commander. 
 
 " Well, to begin, I knew Dr. Hard, who related the occur- 
 rence, at the battle of Williamsburg. He was in our regiment, 
 the 8th Illinois cavalry — which was the first to enter the 
 village of Gettysburg, on the day previous to the first day's 
 battle. 
 
 " The cavalry were always far ahead of the infantry, doing 
 the advance skirmishing, and this time our regiment was in 
 the extreme front. We were going into Gettysburg, and as 
 we came nearer to the center of the town we could see the 
 rebel cavalry receding. Many of them were yet scattered 
 miscellaneously about the streets, but all were clearing them- 
 selves from the vicinity. 
 
 " We rode on, and as we passed the stores and shops we 
 were greeted with a warm welcome on every hand. Women 
 and children, and men and boys who were ineligible for 
 soldiership, lined the streets and assured us of their most heart- 
 felt joy, for we were the first Union soldiers they had seen 
 for some time. 
 
 ** Our attention was attracted to a number of school-girls 
 
 229 
 
^3o caMp-fire chats of the civil war. 
 
 who apparently had just come together. There were per- 
 haps fifteen or twenty of them, of ages ranging from ten to 
 fifteen years. Many of them were beautiful, and all were 
 good singers. It seemed to me as though they made not the 
 least discord, and that the sweetest music I ever heard came 
 from their lips as they sang — the first time we had ever 
 heard the song: 
 
 " ' Dearest love, do you remember, 
 
 When we last did meet, 
 How you told me that you loved me, 
 
 Kneeling at my feet? 
 Oh! how proud you stood before me. 
 
 In your suit of blue, 
 When you vowed to me and country 
 
 Ever to be true. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 "* Weeping sad and lonely, 
 
 Hopes and fears how vain! 
 When this cruel war is over. 
 
 Praying that we meet again!' 
 
 " After passing through the city and going into camp, many 
 of us returned again to the pleasing surroundings. The 
 citizens threw open their houses and invited us in to enjoy the 
 full privilege of their homes. On every hand we were met 
 with the most cordial reception. Merchants would not even 
 take pay for articles of limited value after we had bought 
 them. Every one seemed heartily glad to assist the bold 
 defenders of the Stars and Stripes. 
 
 " Indeed we appreciated this, for we had been deprived 
 for a long time of many of the comforts of civilized life, and 
 at times had wanted the necessities, not to say the deli- 
 cacies; so that the enjoyment of all these, coupled with the 
 earnest way in which we were received, could not fail to draw 
 from us expressions of unalloyed gratitude. We felt that 
 even in the midst of war there is tenderness; that, however 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 23I 
 
 fierce the battle may be, the heart which receives the blow 
 and the one which gives it, may then or at any other time 
 be the home of affection. 
 
 " Gratitude brought a tear to my own eye, and as I looked 
 around to see the expression of other countenances, I beheld at 
 my side an old, wicked, gray-haired man weeping from very 
 joy — a man whose heart 1 had long since concluded had never 
 held many feelings except those kindred to cruelty. This 
 was only the day before the great battle, but I can tell you 
 that even this short relief was welcome." 
 
 " Let me add another incident to those already given 
 about Sherman's famous march," said Mr. C. E. Harden, ad- 
 dressing the commander. 
 
 " Proceed," responded His Dignity, and Mr. Harden did 
 proceed thus: 
 
 " In the first place," said he, " the country through which 
 we were passing produced only two staple commodities, to- 
 wit: Bull-frogs and bad roads, the two being in almost equal 
 abundance. There were also two other things similar in the 
 purpose of holding food, namely, our stomachs and haver- 
 sacks; and at tliis particular time they were exactly alike in 
 one other respect — both were empty. Sometimes a man's 
 appetite suggests a very sudden conclusion about going to 
 work to obtain something eatable; and this was our exact 
 condition. So comrade John Chandler and myself at once 
 determined ' to see what we could see ' in the way of 
 forage. 
 
 " We left camp at day-break, and knowing the route which 
 the column would take, kept well to the right. We tramped 
 all day, and at night had succeeded in becoming the possessors 
 of the following: 
 
 " One cart with one broken wheel. - 
 
 "One and one-quarter bushels of potatoes; size of same, 
 3^ to ^ inches in diameter. 
 
232 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " One yoke of ' muley ' oxen. 
 
 " One ox was red ; the other brindle. One had lost its 
 tail. The red ox, being the afflicted one, seemed to be 
 favored by nature with a very small horn on the left side of 
 its head, so that it was not entirely 'muley;' while on the 
 other hand, brindle having no claim to a like favor from 
 nature, had no horn, and was, tlierefore, entirely ' muley.' 
 
 " It was an odd-looking team ; but we concluded to try its 
 strength for a few miles, so we loaded our potatoes and con- 
 tinued our journey. The second day added the following to 
 our store: 
 
 " I. One rooster too old to crow. 
 
 " 2. One-half bushel wilted turnips. 
 
 " Late in the afternoon we began to hunt our command, 
 and about sunset came to the road that the division had 
 passed over, but found no other signs of a soldier. A short 
 ' council of war ' was held, after which the line of march was 
 taken up and continued until daylight, when we came to a halt, 
 fed the rooster and the oxen, and breakfasted ourselves on the 
 'pig-potatoes ' and turnips. After a short rest we again pro- 
 ceeded, arriving in camp about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 " As we approached, the cheering resembled the prolonged 
 chirrup from an excited flock of geese. All kinds of exclama- 
 tions were heard: 
 
 "'Hurrah for the muleys!' 
 
 '"Kill 'em! Kill 'em!' 
 
 "' Beefsteak for supper, boys!' 
 
 "'Give us some ox-tail soup!' 
 
 " ' Old brindle's horns for powder flasks!' etc., etc. 
 
 " When the noise subsided, the commissary sergeant 
 ordered us to report at headquarters with our team. We did 
 this, received a reprimand for being absent from our com- 
 mand, and our oxen were inspected, and ordered slaughtered 
 for the good of the regiment. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 233 
 
 *« Within fifteen minutes from that time the odor from 
 fresh, tough beef emanated from numerous frying pans, and 
 ascended to the evening sky; and in perhaps thirty minutes 
 more no reminder of the oxen's sad fate could be seen, except 
 the iron work of the wagon, the wood having been appro- 
 priated to replenish the various camn-fires." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXI. 
 
 THE GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC— NOT A POLITICAL OR- 
 GANIZATION ITS principles: fraternity, CHARITY, 
 
 LOYALTY A COMPLETE, BRIEF RECORD OF ITS OR- 
 GANIZATION AND GROWTH TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 fHIS camp-fire was devoted to delineating the practical 
 part of those magnificent memories which have resulted 
 so happily from the comradeship which was begotten 
 and made strong by the battles of the Civil War, Dr. A. W. 
 Gray was the speaker, and said: 
 
 " At no time in the history of the world has there been 
 an organization of such magnitude as this; which had such 
 sudden growth and notoriety, and yet of which so little is 
 known. As far as known there are no official records of any 
 connected history of its origin, rise and progress. 
 
 " It is not strange that men who, for many weary months 
 and years had shared the perils and fatigues, the weary 
 marches and bivouacks of a soldier's life, —who together had 
 breasted the storms of shot and shell, and shared the priva- 
 tion, suffering and hunger of the prison-pen — should desire to 
 keep alive the memories and associations of their army life. 
 History informs us that after great wars it has been in all 
 ages customary for the surviving soldiers to form associations 
 to preserve the memories of other days. We hear in our day 
 of the associations of veterans of the Crimean war and of the 
 French and German war; and in our own country of the 
 * Order of the Cincinnati,' an organization of commissioned 
 
 234 
 
. CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 235 
 
 officers of the American army who fought for national liberty 
 during the Revolution, the organization to be perpetuated b}? 
 the admission of the oldest sons of its members as the origi- 
 nators successively died. We have also the veteran associations 
 of the war of i8i3, and the war with Mexico; but none can 
 compare with the G. A. R., whose posts may be found from 
 the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the St. Lawrence to the 
 Gulf of Mexico. 
 
 " As to who first originated the ' Grand Army of the Re- 
 public,' no one man is entitled to the credit. There was 
 nothing original in it. It had always been customary for sur- 
 viving soldiers to organize, and for a long time many of the 
 old soldiers had talked the matter over. The war was over. 
 A 77iillion men — veterans of the greatest war of modern 
 times — had stacked their arms, sheathed their swords, and re- 
 turned to their homes and the pursuits of a civil life. What 
 more natural than that these old comrades should enjoy each 
 other's society, and should wish to preserve the ' memories of 
 those hours of trial and danger' by banding themselves to- 
 gether, and talking over the old times.? 
 
 "Although not a matter of record, it is an admitted fact 
 that the State of Illinois has the honor of the G. A. R.'s birth- 
 place; and that B. F. Stephenson, late surgeon of the i^tn 
 Illinois Infantry, was the first man to organize the veterans 
 into an association. During the winter of 1865 and 1866, he, 
 with other ex-soldiers of the late war, being at the time in the 
 City of Springfield, Illinois, discussed the propriety of or- 
 ganizing the 'veteran' soldiers of the State into an associa- 
 tion for political 'purposes — his idea being that the soldiers, 
 having saved the country, were entitled of right to the oflSces 
 of profit and trust. It was decided to form such an organiza- 
 tion; that it should be a secret society, with signs, grips and 
 password. The individuals present took an oath of secrecy. 
 A ritual was prepared and adopted; also an initiation cere- 
 
236 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF TliE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 mony. It was mso decided to go ahead and organize posts 
 throughout the State. 
 
 " Immediately a difficulty presented itself; they had only 
 one copy of the ritual. How to get it printed without 
 publicity, was the question. But this was soon answered. 
 The editor of the Decatur (111.) ' Tribune;' as well as all of 
 the printers in the office, had served their time in the army, 
 and were therefore eligible to membership in the new society. 
 To each of these the obligation was administered, and they 
 were admitted into full membership. Four hundred copie>^ 
 of the ritual were ordered printed and bound, and in a few 
 days the rituals were ready for distribution. The organization 
 was named, 
 
 "THE GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC." 
 
 "As yet not a single Post had been formed. On the 
 night of April 6, 1866, in the Hall of the ' Sons of Malta ' at 
 Decatur, Illinois, was organized ' Post No. i of the Grand 
 Army of the Republic' It was late when the meeting ad- 
 journed, but, full of the spirit of the occasion, and determined 
 to create a sensation, < the Boys' went to the * Tribune' 
 office, and had a number of posters struck off, upon which 
 was the following: 
 
 G. A. R. 
 
 POST NO. 1 
 
 DECATUR, 
 APRIL 6, 1866. 
 
 I 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 337 
 
 « Armed with paste-pot and brush they patroled the city, 
 and posted these dodgers in the most conspicuous places. 
 Upon the following day they were the talk of the town; and 
 such was the birth of the Grand Army of the Republic. 
 The organization of other posts rapidly followed throughout 
 the State. Eagerly the veterans enrolled themselves under 
 the new banners. Dr. Stephenson announced himself as 
 commander, and issued the following order: 
 
 "'Head Quarters Grand Army of the Republic, ) 
 Springfield, III., June — , 1866. \ 
 "'The undersigned hereby assumes command of the Grand 
 Army of the Republic. Major Robert M. Woods is ap- 
 pointed Adjutant General; Colonel Julius C. Weber and 
 Lieut. John S. Phelps are appointed A. D. C. They will be 
 obeyed and respected accordingly. 
 
 "'By order of B. F. Stephenson, 
 
 " 'R. M. Woods. Adjutant General.' 
 
 " Soon the necessity of a State organization became appar- 
 rent; so Dr Stephenson issued an order calling a meeting of 
 delegates from the different Posts to assemble at Springfield, 
 111., y^ify 12, 1866. 
 
 " At the meeting which followed, the Department of Illinois 
 was organized and systematized. John M. Palmer was elected 
 Department Commander, New Posts were organized in 
 other States. Dr. Stephenson by common consent assumed 
 the duties of' Provisional commander-in-chief.' 
 
 " Observing the growing popularity of the organization, 
 and the necessity of its becoming more national in character, 
 Dr. Stephenson issued the following order: 
 
 "'Head Quarters Grand Army of the Republic, ) 
 vSpringfield, III., Oct. 31, 1866. \ 
 '"general order no. 13. 
 
 " ' A National convention of the Grand Army of the 
 Republic is hereby ordered to convene at Indianapolis, Indiana, 
 at 10 o'clock on Tuesday, the twentieth day of November 
 
238 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 next, for the purpose of perfecting the National organization, 
 and the transaction of such other business as may come before 
 the Convention. 
 
 "' The ratio of representation shall be as follows: Each 
 Post shall be entitled to one representative, and when the 
 membership exceeds one hundred, Lo one additional represen- 
 tative and in the same ratio for every additional one hundred, 
 or every fractional part thereof. 
 
 "'All Department and District officers, ex-qfficio^ shall be 
 members of said convention. All honorably discharged sol- 
 diers and sailors, and those now serving in the army desirous 
 of becoming members of the Grand Army of the Republic, are 
 respectfully invited to attend the convention. All comrades 
 are requested to wear the ' blue ' with corps badges, etc. 
 "'Official: J. C. Webber, 
 
 Adj't Gen., Dept. Illinois. 
 " 'B. F. Stephenson, 
 
 Com.-in-chief, G. A. R. U. S.' 
 
 " In accordance with the call about two hundred and fifty 
 members of the order from eleven different States assembled 
 at Indianapolis, Indiana, on Nov. 20, 1866. 
 
 " The meeting was called to order by Dr. Stephenson, and 
 John M. Palmer of Illinois was elected chairman. The 
 business of organizing and adopting rules for the government 
 of the order was gone through with in two days. Stephen 
 A. Hurlbut, of Illinois, was elected as the first commander-in- 
 chief, to serve for one year. Dr. Stephenson was appointed 
 adjutant general. 
 
 " The convention adjourned to meet again at the call of 
 the commander; but before adjourning the following 'Reso- 
 lutions' and 'Platform of Principles' were adopted. 
 
 "' We, the representatives of the soldiers and sailors of the 
 military and naval service of the United States during the 
 late war against traitors, reaffirming our devotion to these 
 States, the Constitution and the laws of our country, and our 
 abhorrence of treason and oppression, — 
 
 ^'' ^ Resolved. First: That the Grand Army or the Re- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 239 
 
 public is organized to maintain in civil life, those great princi- 
 ples for which it stood in arms under the national flag; that 
 it stands pledged to crush out active treason, to advance and 
 support loyalty, to secure sound constitutional liberty to all 
 men, and to vindicate everywhere and at all times the full and 
 complete rights of every loyal American citizen, — against all 
 combinations of force or fraud that may attempt to deny or 
 deprive them of such rights; — 
 
 "'Second: That we pledge all the power and influence 
 which, as individuals or as an association, we can wield legit- 
 imately, in the most especial manner to those gallant men 
 who stood fast by the country in the hour of its agony, 
 in the rebellious States, and who, through all manner of 
 losses and injuries, persecutions by force and persecutions 
 under color of law, maintained their integrity, and vindicated 
 their loyalty ; and we solemnly declare that no power that we 
 can use shall be neglected until they are thoroughly and com- 
 pletely protected in the active exercise of every right of 
 American freemen through the entire country over which 
 our flag floats; — 
 
 " ' Third : That Congress in justice and not in cnarity, 
 should pass a law equalizing in a just manner, the bounties of 
 all Union soldiers and sailors; — 
 
 " ' Fourth : That we now, as heretofore, pledge ourselves 
 to use our best endeavors to procure appropriate State and 
 national legislation, for the education and maintenance of the 
 orphans and widows of our deceased comrades and maimed 
 brethren, and to enforce a speedy adjustment and payment of 
 all lawful claims against the government, due soldiers and 
 sailors, and their friends; — 
 
 " ' Fifth: That, in our opmion, no man is worthy to be a 
 free citizen of a free country who is not willing to bear arms 
 in its defence, and we, therefore, suggest to Congress the 
 passage of a law making it the inexorable duty of every 
 citizen to defend his country in time of need, in person and 
 not by substitute ; — 
 
 « ' Sixth : That as a matter of justice and right, and 
 because the sacrifice made and dangers encountered by the 
 Union soldiers and sailors who served in the late war for the 
 preservation of the country, cannot ever be fully repaid, we 
 respectfully ask that those in authority bestow upon needy 
 
2d.O CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 ana worthy soldiers and sailors such positions of honor and 
 profit as they may be competent to fill; and while we seek 
 nothing for ourselves, or those of our comrades who are able 
 to maintain themselves, we do earnestly recommend this 
 request to the consideration of those in authority. And we 
 especially ask the attention of the President to his policy 
 heretofore declared on this subject.' 
 
 " The second National Encampment was held at Phila- 
 delphia, Pa , Jan. 15, 16 and 17, 1S6S. Delegates from 
 twenty-one States were present. John A. Logan, of Illinois, 
 was elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 " At this session a resolution was adopted calling upon 
 Congress to enact a law which should allow none but de- 
 ceased Ujiion soldiers and sailors of the late war to be buried 
 in the National cemeteries; also, to enact a law whereby 
 ex-Union soldiers and sailors should have the preference in 
 appointment to positions of profit and trust. 
 
 " ORIGIN OF DECORATION DAY. 
 
 " It was at this encampment that ' Memorial Day ' was 
 instituted. A resolution was passed that the thirtieth day of 
 May of each year be designated as ' Memorial ' or * Decora- 
 tion Day," upon which day the members of the G. A. R. 
 were to decorate the graves of their deceased comrades with 
 flowers and evergreens; and General Logan, in an address to 
 the encampment spoke as follows, concerning it; 
 
 "'To keep the scenes of war with all its horrors vivid 
 before the mind, without some still more important motive, 
 would hardly meet with the approval of this intelligent age. 
 It was to keep constantly before the mind the cost of liberty, 
 and the fricc paid for the suppression of rebellion, and the 
 preservation of a free and independent Government; to keep 
 forever green the hallowed memory of the heroic dead, who 
 had fallen to save their country from disunion and dishonoi. 
 This ceremony is but an external expression of one of the 
 great principles of our Order, and should the organization in 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 24I 
 
 coming years cease to exercise its functions, — I trust that the 
 ceremony so happily coming from it, may never cease, for so 
 long as it continues to be heartily observed, we will have the 
 assurance that there are loyal hearts in the land that cling to 
 the integrity of our Union, and condemn treason to ou;^ 
 Government' 
 
 " ' The third National encampment was held at Cincin- 
 nati, Ohio, May 12 and 13, 1869. John A. Logan was re- 
 elected commander-in-chief for another year. 
 
 " From the Adjutant General's report at this Encampment 
 we learn that the order was rapidly dying out in the Western 
 States, but was being kept alive in the East — Illinois, vv^hich 
 at one time had three hundred and thirty Posts, reporting- 
 only six. On the other hand, Ohio reported three hundred 
 and three Posts in good standing. 
 
 *' Inquiry developed the fact that 'politics^ was killing 
 the order. The veterans were suspicious, and looked upon it 
 as a huge political machine, used by unscrupulous office-seek- 
 ers to further their own ends and aims. The people, taking 
 the same view of the case, were also disgusted with it, and 
 refused to countenance or help it along. Therefore this 
 encampment voted to remodel the entire structure. A new 
 set of Rules and Regulations was adopted, wherein politics 
 especially was prohibited, viz : Article XI, Chapter V : 
 
 " ' No officer or comrade of the Grand Army of the Re- 
 public shall in aiiy ma7tner use this organization for partisan 
 purposes, and no discussion of partisan questions shall be 
 permitted at any of its meetings, nor shall any nominatJorr% 
 for political office be made.' 
 
 " The encampment also established three grades in the 
 order called the ' Recruit,' 'Soldier' and ' Veteran,' the latter 
 only, being admitted into full membership; and also adopted 
 the following articles of Rules and Regulations which are in 
 full force at the present t-me:] 
 
2^2 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 « OBJECTS 
 
 ** * The objects to be accomplished by this organization are 
 as follows: 
 
 "* First: To preserve and strengthen those kind and 
 fraternal feelings which bind together the soldiers, sailors and 
 mariners who united to suppress the late rebellion and to 
 perpetuate the memory and history of the dead. 
 
 "'Second: To assist such former comrades in arms as 
 need help and protection; and to extend needful aid to the 
 widows and orphans ot those who have fallen. 
 
 "'Third: To maintain true allegiance to the United 
 States of America, based upon a paramount respect for, and 
 Hdelity to, the National Constitution and laws; to discounte- 
 nance whatsoever tends to weaken loyalty, incites to insurrec- 
 tion, treason or rebellion, or in any manner impairs the 
 efficiency and permanency of our free institutions; and to en- 
 courage the spread of universal liberty, equal rights and 
 justice to all men, 
 
 "'ELIGIBILITY TO MEMBERSHIP. 
 
 " ' Soldiers and Sailors of the United States Army, Navy 
 or Marine Corps, who served between April 12, 1S61, and 
 August 20, 1866, in the war for the suppression of the Rebel- 
 lion, and those having been honorably discharged therelrom 
 after such service, and of such State regiments as were called 
 into active service and subject to the orders of U. S. Gencjal 
 Officers, between the dates mentioned, shall be eligible to 
 membership in the Grand Army of the Republic. No person 
 shall be eligible to membership who has at any time borne 
 arms against the United States.' 
 
 " From that time to the present the growth of the Order 
 has been steady and prosperous. The ' boys,' finding that 
 they were not to be used as ' somebody's tool ' for political 
 purposes, gradually came forward and joined the various Posts, 
 manifesting a willingness to be identified with an organization 
 whose aims and purposes were purely and unequivocally; 
 Fraternity, Charity and Loyalty. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 243 
 
 ^^ The Jburt^ National Encampment was held at Wash- 
 ington, D. C, May ii and I3, 1870. John A. Logan was 
 re-elected commander-in-chief for a third term. " 
 
 " This encampment adopted resolutions calling noon Con- 
 gress to make Memorial Day (May 30) a le^al h^' ^ay. A 
 'Badge' for the order was also adopted, C~2 sar.^ as now 
 worn by the members of the G. A. R., and may be described 
 thus: 
 
 " A five-pointed bronze star made from canv.c i captured 
 in decisive battles of the civil war, and donated by Congress 
 for the purpose. The design upon one side presents the 
 Goddess of Liberty to represent Loyalty^ and on either side 
 of her is a soldier and sailor clasping hands to represent Fra- 
 ternity^ while two little children, leceiving benediction and 
 assurance of protection from the comrades, represent Charity, 
 On each side of the group is the national flag and eagle, rep- 
 resenting Freedom^ while the axe and bundle of rods or 
 fasces^ represent Union. In each point of the star is the in- 
 signia of the various arms of the service, that is the bugle for 
 Infantry, crossed cannon for Artillery, crossed muskets for the 
 Marines, crossed swords for the Cavalry, and the anchor for 
 the Sailors. Over the central group are the words ' Grand 
 Army of the Republic ;' under the group, ' 1861. Veteran. 
 1866,' commemorating the beginning and close of the civil 
 war; also the date of the organization of the G. A. R. 
 
 " The other side of the star presents a branch of laurel — 
 the crown and reward of the brave — on each point of the 
 star. The National shield in the center, surrour. "ed by the 
 twenty-four recognized corps badges in the order of their 
 number, each on a keystone, and all linked together, are ar- 
 ranged to show that they are united, and will guard and pro- 
 tect the shield of the Nation. Around the center is a circle 
 of stars representing the States of the Union, also the Depart- 
 ments' composing the Grand Army of the Reoublic. 
 
244 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " The clasp of the badge is a bronze eagle with outstretched 
 wings, holding a naked sword over crossed cannon and piled 
 ammunition, representing Defense — always ready to defend 
 the flag of the United States, which, as the emblem and ribbon 
 of the order, is suspended from the clasps and sustains the sta?-. 
 
 " ThQ Jiftk National Encampment was held at Boston. 
 Mass., May lo and ii, 1871. 
 
 " A. E. Burnside, of Rhode Island, was elected command- 
 er-in-chief. The 'grade system' was abolished, and only one- 
 degree for full membership established. 
 
 " The sixth National Encampment was held at Cleve- 
 land, Ohio, May 8 and 9, 1872. A. E. Burnside was re-elect- 
 ed commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The seventh National Encampment was held at Nev. 
 Haven, Connecticut, May 14 and 15, 1873. Charles A. 
 Devens, of Massachusetts, was elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The eighth National Encampment was held at Har- 
 risburg, Penn., May 13, 1874, Charles A. Devens being re- 
 elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The ninth National Encampment was held at Chicago, 
 111., May 12 and 13, 1875. John F. Hartranft, of Pennsyl- 
 vania, was elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The tenth National Encampment was held at Philadel- 
 phia, Penn., June 30, 1876. John F. Hartranft was re-elect- 
 ed commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The eleventh National Encampment was held at Prov- 
 idence, R. I., June 26 and 27, 1877. John C. Robinson, of 
 New York, was elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The twelfth National Encampment was held at 
 Springfield, Mass., June 4, 1878. John C. Robinson was re- 
 elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 " The thirteenth National Encampment was held at Al- 
 bany, New York, June 17 and 18, 1879. William Earnshaw, 
 of Ohio, was elected commander-in-chief. 
 
G. A. R. BADGE. 
 
 REVERSE OF STAR. 
 
246 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE ClVlL WAR. 
 
 " The Adjutant General reported a gain for the past year 
 of 4,048 members, and a total membership of 31,415. 
 
 " The fourteenth Annual Encampment was held at 
 Dayton, Ohio. Commander Earnshaw positively declined 
 to be a candidate for re-election, saying that he wished ^.o es- 
 tablish the precedent that no man should hold che office of 
 commander-in-chief for more than one term. 
 
 " Louis Wagner, of Pennsylvania, was elected command- 
 er-in-chief. 
 
 " The Report of the Adjt.-Gen. showed a membership of 
 44,802 on December 31, 1879, being a gain during the year 
 of 13,387. 
 
 " The Jifteentk National Encampment was held at 
 
 Indianapolis, Indiana, June 15 and 16, 1881. George S. 
 
 Merrill of Massachusetts, was elected commander-in-chief. 
 
 ' The gain in membership during the previous year was 15,876, 
 
 and a total membership of 60,678. 
 
 " The sixteenth National Encampment was held at Bal- 
 timore, Maryland, June 21, 22 and 2.3, 1882. 
 
 " Paul Vandervoort of Nebraska, was elected commander- 
 in chief. The gain in membership during the previous year 
 was reported at 25,178, and the total membership at 85,865. 
 
 " The seventeenth National Encampment was held at 
 Denver, Colorado, July 25 and 26, 1883. Robert B. Beath 
 of Pennsylvania was elected commander-in-chief. The Ad- 
 jutant General reported that on Dec. 31, 1882, there were 
 131,890 members in good standing — showing a gain of 46,- 
 034 during the year. He also reported that on March 31, 
 1S83, there were 145,932 members and 971 Posts in good 
 standing, or a gain in three months of 174 Posts and 14,042 
 members. All over the country the order is reported as in a 
 flourishing condition. New Posts are springing up in every 
 direction. Even away out on the frontiers, in the Territories, 
 strong working Posts may be ^cund. Each year, wherever 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 247 
 
 ihe National Encampment has been held, the citizens have 
 received the veterans with open arms, and have done their 
 very best to make their stay agreeable. Nothing was too 
 good for the men who had hazarded their lives to save the 
 Nation as one country and under one flag. 
 
 " It is now well understood that the Grand Army of the 
 Republic is not a huge political machine, that it fivors no 
 political party, and indorses no man for office. As an organi- 
 zation it inculcates a spirit of patriotism in the rising genera- 
 tion. As an organization the members do not forget * that 
 fraternity of feeling which binds them together as comrades^ 
 that charity which prompts them to the noblest sacrifices for 
 the needy and destitute wards of the Grand Army, and that 
 Loyalty which binds them together as citizens, and to an 
 undying vigilance which is the price of liberty.' 
 
 " In an address to the encampment. Commander Devens 
 said: 'The objects of our Association are such as should 
 commend themselves not only to those who have fought 
 under the flag of the Union, but to all good citizens also. 
 Against our organization it has been especially charged that 
 it was secret in Its character, and that all secret societies were 
 dangerous in a republican government. Plausible as this 
 remark sounds, it is obvious that it can have no proper appli- 
 cation to those societies whose purposes are well known, and 
 whose secrecy is limited entirely to the Ritual by which their 
 proceedings are conducted, and to their modes of recognizing 
 their fellow members. The Grand Army has no purpose 
 that it is unwilling to reveal to the world j it has no obliga- 
 tion that any citizen soldier, who is the same man to-day in 
 thought and feeling that he was in the hour of trial, cannot 
 take without hesitation or reservation; it has no political bear- 
 ing or significance ; any effort to turn it to any such object is to 
 be resisted with our utmost resolution. As the old army was 
 always broad enough to include all (no matter what might 
 
248 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 be their differences of opinion as to men or measures) of loyal 
 and true devotion, so this Association is broad enough to wel- 
 come to its ranks every veteran whose heart still beats respop- 
 sively to the music of the Union. In this connection I deem 
 it proper to say that sometimes attetn'pts have been made to 
 secure the influence of our organization in matters mere?y 
 political, such as aiding in elections of, or securing appoint- 
 ments for, particular individuals. Such attempts have nev^T 
 received, and will not at any time receive, any encouragement 
 at the National Headquarters. They are not only in viola- 
 tion of the whole spirit of our order, but of its letter^ as 
 expressed by its Rules and Regulations. Let it be under 
 stood that our organization has no system of politico 
 except that great and grand system in which all true 
 men are agreed, whether citizens or soldiers — those prin- 
 ciples of devotion to the death, if need be, for Liberty and the 
 Laws, for the Constitution and the Union, which we once 
 preached with our rifles in our hands and our country's flag 
 above our heads, amidst the smoke and fire of an hundred 
 battlefields. Let it be known that by these principles alone 
 we are united, that this society does not exist for any personal 
 ends or selfish purposes, and that it is not to be used by any 
 man, or any set of men. If those who have enjoyed life 
 together as schoolmates or classmates, delight to renew the 
 scenes of their former life, and to live over again in each 
 other's company the days that are passed, surely the tie of 
 affection which binds together men who have not only 
 enjoyed much but suffered together, must be one of no 
 ordinary character. 
 
 «' Unless hearts were flint, no man could be insensible or 
 cold to him by whose side he had stood shoulder to shoulder 
 in the ranks of war, upon whose fidelity and courage he had 
 known that his own life depended, and felt reassured as he 
 looked upon his resoiute brow and kindling eye, and to 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 249 
 
 jvhom he had been all that is expressed by the simple but 
 dear word — comrade, 
 
 " * Agreeable and delightful as are the social characteristics 
 of our association, it has higher aims than these, to guard and 
 cherish the memory of those of our comrades who have 
 passed away; to teach the inestimable value of the services of 
 those who — unused to the trade of arms — did not hesitate, 
 when the hour of trial came, to leave the plow in the furrow 
 and the hammer on the anvil, and commit themselves to the 
 shock of battle, appealing to the God of battles for the justice 
 of their cause, is with us a most sacred duty. And this not 
 alone that the dead may be honored^ but that the living may 
 be encouraged to imitate their example, and that the strong 
 spirit of nationality and loyalty to the Government which 
 bore us up so bravely through four years of unexampled trial 
 may be fostered and strengthened, and that we ourselves may 
 be consecrated anew to the cause for which so many have 
 suffered. But, although it is our object to do justice to the 
 memory of our dead, it is our aim to do justice to the living 
 also; to secure a fair and just recognition of their claims, and 
 to protect their rights by all suitable means within our 
 control. Above all, as true homage must consist not in words 
 but in deeds, we have always held that no higher honor could 
 be paid to the just fame of the brave men who have defended 
 the Republic than to assist by kind words and material aid 
 all good and true soldiers who by wounds, disease, old age or 
 misfortune, have become dependent, and tenderly to care for 
 the widows and orphans of the fallen. The motto which 
 our order bears — ' Fraternity, Charity and Loyalty,' — is the 
 brief summary of its principles.' 
 
 " In his address to the National Encampment, said Chap- 
 lain-in-chief, Lovering: 'So far as the faith and morals of 
 the G. A. R. are concerned, I have this to say: Its faith has 
 its religion, and its religion has the devout obedience of every 
 
250 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 worthy member of our order. I do not refer to any religion, 
 sectarian or universal, liberal or conservative, Christian or 
 Pagan, as such. Whatever disputes there may be outside 
 of our organization concerning them, do not affect us. Reli- 
 gion means bond. The highest religion casts out all spirit 
 of fear and makes its 'bond' that of love. Our religion, 
 within the terms of our organization, claims that highest 
 bond. It is permeated, it is saturated with the spirit of that 
 love. That love is love of country. That religion is the re- 
 ligion of patriotism. 
 
 " ' Its altars are the graves of the unforgotten and heroic. 
 Its symbol is the flag of our Union. Its priests are all those, 
 within its organization, who confess this soldierly creed: I 
 believe in a fraternity which joins in indissoluble union, jus- 
 tice and right. 
 
 " ' I believe in a charity that, while merciful to a conquered 
 foe, does not stultify itself by surrendering the fruits of victo- 
 ry; that never forgets the brightness of that cause which has 
 been made illustrious by the heroic sacrifices of those whose 
 graves should be the shrines of the Nation's reverence. 
 
 " ' I believe in loyalty that acknowledges '-'•one country and 
 one Jiag'^'' that makes American citizenship honorable every- 
 where; thaj calls rebellion a crime, and the penalty of trea- 
 son — deaths 
 
 "'I believe that, in fraternity and charity, we should stand 
 shoulder to shoulder, willing at all hazard of favor or fame 
 to defend the G. A. R. as the standard bearer of the nation's 
 loyalty. 
 
 " ' There is one word I wish to emphasize. It is the rally- 
 ing word of our whole body. It gives the pulse beat to ev- 
 ery heart in every " Post." It is written upon every altar of 
 patriotism we call a soldier's grave. It speaks to us in the 
 honorable scars which wounds or disease, or the wasting 
 hand of time has made on those who in the fullness of man- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OV THP. CIVIL WAR. 25I 
 
 hood stood forth to battle for the Union and the right. It is 
 woven into every thread, red, white, or blue, of our glorious 
 banner. It shines in every ray of light that gleams from the 
 stars we have plucked with full hands from the skies to 
 brighten and glorify our flag. It is the one word that h 
 above the taint of political partisanship, and which seals our 
 allegiance to one country and one flag. Cicero, the Roman 
 orator, when he denounced the traitor and conspirator, Cata- 
 line, said, " Let it be written upon the forehead of every citi- 
 zen what are his views concerning the republic." Oar views 
 have been written upon the pages of our Nation's history in 
 ineffaceable characters. The ink was blood; the pens were 
 bayonets and sabers. One word focalizes these views. It is 
 written upon the forehead of every soldier. The spirit of it 
 beats in the heart of every soldier. The temper of it tough- 
 ens every muscle and thrills along every nerve of every sol- 
 dier. That word is "Z<9)/«//y." ' 
 
 " Commander-in-chief George S. Merrill in his address 
 said : ' The Grand Army is to-day the representative organi- 
 zation of the soldiers and sailors of America, the one great 
 association which includes the veterans of every army and all 
 ranks ; the men who followed the flag upon the land, and 
 who fought beneath its folds upon the sea ; men of every 
 nationality, color and creed ; the officer who wore the well 
 worn Siais of a general, and the private whose only badge of 
 distinction was in patriotic and faithful service in the ranks — 
 all upon the common level of Comrades of the flag with 
 ''^Fraternity''' which would bind in closer ties the veterans 
 who offered all that they possessed upon the altar of country: 
 with ''''Charity'''' which would protect and care for the needy 
 ones among all the Nation's defenders, their wives and little 
 ones, and '-''Loyalty'''' which would keep ever brightly burn- 
 ing that spirit of patriotism leading a free people to rise, in 
 the majesty and might of 1861, to defend the unity of the re- 
 
252 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 public, and secure to generations yet unborn a government 
 from, by and for all the people; let the success of the past be 
 but an inspiration to greater efforts in behalf of our organiza- 
 tion in the future, and rest and sleep come not within our 
 tents until every honorably discharged soldier and sailor who 
 merits our confidence is enrolled in the Grand Army of the 
 Republic' 
 
 " Said Commander-in-chief Vandervoort in his address : 
 'We stand in line to-day as we did when we marched to the 
 front burning with loyalty, breaking asunder the ties of party 
 and meeting on one common platform, waving aloft a torn 
 and honorable discharge, and exemplifying fraternity, charity 
 and loyalty. 1 have heard the doctrine advocated that the 
 sentence in our "installation service" "That we should stand 
 by the soldier though the whole world assail him," means 
 that we should do so if our comrade is a candidate for politi- 
 cal office. 
 
 " ' The Grand Army fetters the conscience of no member. 
 It gives the largest liberty to all. It stands aloof from the 
 strife and clash of parties. "It will stand by the comrade 
 though the whole world assail him" in sickness, in distress, 
 when the old wounds re-open, when the wife and children 
 are destitute. It will take old veterans from the "almshouse." 
 It will remove their bones from a pauper's grave, and bury 
 them in holy ground. It will procure employment. It will 
 lighten up the desolate home with the glowing illustration of 
 Charity, but in all political and religious affairs we will hold 
 our independence of thought, and our conscience as something 
 we will not surrender to any order in the land. 
 
 " ' To close I can not do better than to give an extract from 
 A poem by Emily Hawthorne : 
 
 " ' In years agone, a fearful strife was ended: 
 And hosts of valiant men who came together 
 At their country's call, — summoned to combat, 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 253 
 
 Whose name was legion when they started forth, 
 Were now dispersed ; o'er this broad land 
 
 From East to Western shores were widely scattered, 
 
 And resumed their peaceful avocations 
 
 In field or shop, as ere they went to war. 
 
 The clanking swords and sabers in quiet 
 
 Graced the wall, with gleaming bayonets sheathed : 
 
 The muskets now in dusty corners stacked, 
 
 Rested, and rusty grew, while, bent to duty, 
 
 The patient shoulders where they had been borne. 
 
 Were placed to move the wheels of honest industry 
 
 Which once more sang, with an unceasing hum 
 
 The song of peaceful labor, honest toil. 
 
 As erst my muse declared was warfare ended. 
 
 And e'en a twelve month, too, had passed away, 
 
 Since "Grand Review" and final muster out; 
 
 When a strange germ in memory's garden grew ; 
 
 For months this tender thought had lain, deep hid, 
 
 Like a spring flower that sleeps 'neath wintry snows, 
 
 Till balmy seasons call its tendrils forth ; 
 
 Thus mem'ry touched the germ in many hearts 
 
 And woke Fraternal feeling in the breast 
 
 Of comrades who had shared the Aveary march; 
 
 From same canteen had quaffed the cooling drink, 
 
 Assuaging thirst intense, of famished men, 
 
 Who, shoulder to shoulder, had met the foe ; 
 
 Where fiercest carnage raged had borne the brunt, 
 
 And had together faced its scenes of horror. 
 
 Then midst the loyal lads o'er all the "States" 
 
 In field and shop, and busy mart wide severed, 
 
 The feeling grew, a yearning unsuppressed. 
 
 To see and greet again those fellow soldiers. 
 
 This longing found expression and reply ; 
 
 Some met, were thrilled with joy, and organized 
 
 This loyal, true, and mighty brotherhood, 
 
 " Grand Army of Republic." Thus was formed 
 
 The nucleus small of numbers few. 
 
 Round which now stand two hundred thousand comrades. 
 
 Loyalty was its test and basis firm, 
 
 And with Fraternity presided there ; 
 
 These two were wed, and from this union true, 
 
254 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Came Charity^ which greater is than all. 
 
 These soldiers' hearts are swajed by unseen motors- 
 
 They are united by a wondrous tie; 
 
 A mystic link inured by battles dared, 
 
 Strong joined, aye, welded too, by dangers shared. 
 
 By camp-fires lighted in a thousand towns. 
 
 Do comrades bring the wealth of memory's stores ; 
 
 The symbols keep of war's vicissitudes; 
 
 Join hands in holy realm of sympathy. 
 
 And annually the "Grand Encampment" meets, 
 
 And year by year grows large with added numbers. 
 
 So shall this order prosper, lifted o'er 
 
 All party wrangle or dissension's strife, 
 
 And gather hosts of veteran recruits. 
 
 Till ten years pass — fast fall the soldiers old — 
 
 And then shall surely come the lessening ranks. 
 
 With no more volunteers from whom to choose j 
 
 Then one by one shall all be mustered out, 
 
 Yet, answer to a glorious reveille. 
 
 And join the comrades who have gone before. 
 
 In Heaven shall gather an army grand, 
 
 To form one universal brotherhood.' " 
 
 (History continued on pages 347 to 404. 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXII. 
 
 A ROMANCE OF THE WAR A STORY STRANGE BUT TRUE 
 
 WHAT AN INSANE FISHERMAN CAUGHT. 
 
 ATHERED together this evening — a very ccmfortable 
 one — the veterans chatted miscellaneously for a time be- 
 fore commencing business. Finally the commander fired 
 up the pipe of peace, and then called the assembly to order. But 
 in his eagerness to proceed with the chats he somehow forgot 
 to pass the pipe around, thereby totally disregarding the tra- 
 ditionary custom of his majesty, the redskin. Since it was 
 the commander who abused the tradition, the comrades each 
 concluded to light a pipe for himself, after which Captain 
 M — k spoke: 
 
 " In the summer of 1862 our regiment was stationed along 
 the line of railroad from Decatur to Courtland- Alabama. 
 Small parties of us, from time to time, went out foraging on 
 our own account, and on one of these expeditions I had an 
 adventure which had never recurred to my mind until an 
 event which happened a few years after the war recalled it 
 forcibly. 
 
 *' After the cessation of hostilities, there was considerable 
 talk throughout the North of forming colonies to settle in the 
 West and South. Well, I got the 'colony fever' and con- 
 ceived the idea of getting up a colony to settle in Northern 
 Alabama, probably near our old stamping ground. 
 
 " With this project in view I went from Chicago to De- 
 catur, Alabama, and from there by rail still further South to- 
 ward the Black Warrior River. Reaching my journey's end 
 
 255 
 
356 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 I concluded to return on horseback by a round-about way, 
 and visit some of the back country; so I hired a horse and 
 started out, first gathering information as to where I could 
 find accommodations on the road, for houses and settlers are 
 very scarce in that part of the world, so that it behooves a 
 traveler to get his 'points' before setting out on a journey. 
 My calculation was to reach the house of a certain settler at 
 about seven o'clock in the evening. Seven o'clock came, but 
 no settler's house in sight; — eight o'clock — nine o'clock — ten 
 o'clock, and still no house to be seen. 
 
 " By this time I was thoroughly convinced that I had 
 lost my way. I was tired out, and my horse was completely 
 jaded. I rode on about an hour, and at last to my supreme 
 delight I spied a light which I made for at once. I found 
 that it proceeded from the window of a log cabin to which I 
 rode up, and dismounting and hitching my horse, I attempted 
 to enter the yard, when three savage dogs with angry growls 
 disputed my further advance. But I finally succeeded in 
 safely reaching the porch. I gave a knock on the door which 
 roused the proprietor of the place, whereupon the following 
 dialogue ensued, through the closed door: 
 
 "'Who's there?' 
 
 " ' A traveler who has lost his way.' 
 
 " ' What do you want? ' 
 
 " ' I want accommodationfor myself and horse till morning.' 
 
 " ' Well, you can't stay here. I don't keep tavern.' 
 
 " ' How far is it to the next house ? ' 
 
 " ' Seven miles.' 
 
 " ' It's not possible for me to go seven miles, for my horse 
 is completely tired out.' 
 
 " ' I can't help that ; my wife is sick, and I can't have you 
 around.' 
 
 " ' Can't you give me some feed for my horse, and a blank- 
 et for myself ? I'll sleep on the porch.' 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 257 
 
 "After considerable parleying and urging, this request 
 was finally granted. Soon the door opened and a tall, pow- 
 erful man emerged, carrying a lantern which he held squarely 
 in my face for a moment in order to get a good look at me, 
 after which he led the way to the stable, where he groomed 
 and fed my horse, and then we returned to the house. 
 
 "At the porch I halted, expecting him to go in and get 
 me a blanket; but as he entered the door he said: 
 
 " ' Come in, stranger; I want to talk to you.' 
 
 " I entered the cabin and sat down. He threw a few 
 pine knots upon the smoldering fire and soon a bright blaze 
 illumined the room. Then placing himself squarely in 
 front of me, and giving me a searching look, he demanded in 
 an imperious manner: 
 
 " * Now, stranger, I want to know who you are, and 
 what is your business in these parts? ' 
 
 " ' I have already told you that I am a traveler looking 
 for a suitable location to establish a colony from the North.' 
 
 "' Looking for land, hey! Going to establish a colony? 
 Now, stranger, that story is altogether too thiii! Men don't 
 go round at midnight hunting v land. Now tell me the 
 truth — who are you, and w^ ,>. are you after P"* 
 
 " ' I have already told ou who I am, and my business ; 
 and if you don't believf .io it is not my fault.' 
 
 - "Again he searc' .gly eyed me, and then with an earnest 
 emphasis, said: 
 
 "" Strangf" ou have been in these parts before 1 
 
 " « Yes,' 
 
 "'You were a Yankee soldier, then? 
 
 "*Yes/ 
 
 "« In 1862, and stationed near Decatur?' 
 
 "'Yes.' • 
 
 " ' While out foragin' one day with another Yankee you 
 stumbled into Roddy's confederate cavalry camp; but before 
 you were discovered you turned back and escaped? ' 
 
25^ CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 « ' Yes.' 
 
 "'Just as you left Roddy's camp you met one of Roddy's 
 men with a neck-yoke over his shoulders, and carrying a 
 couple of buckets of water in his hands?' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 " '- Tou put your pistol to that man's head and forced him 
 to go over a mile to the rear with you to preverxi his giving 
 an alarm?' 
 
 «'Yes.' 
 
 "' Stranger, I am that man!'* 
 
 " It seemed to me, about that time, that he meant business, 
 and intended to settle the old affair there and then. But 
 putting on a bold front, I remarked as unconcernedly as ] 
 could: 
 
 " ' Well, you have a mighty good memory.' 
 
 " ' Yes, I remember some things. You bet I knew you 
 the minute I set eyes on you; and I'll remember you as long 
 as I live.' 
 
 " Meanwhile his wife had made her appearance, and, 
 lighting her corn-cob pipe, seated herself near the fireplace, 
 prepared to enjoy the fun. 
 
 "I hardly knew what would come next; but, after a pause, 
 the man changed his position and manner, and said: 
 
 "'Now that I've told you '^\\o you are I'll tell you more 
 about myself. I staid with Roddy's Cavalry Corr.pany for 
 about three months after I saw you, and then my brother 
 and myself deserted and enlisted in the First Alabama Union 
 cavalry regiment, where we staid till the close of the war. 
 After the war we came home; we were obliged to sleep in 
 caves and keep concealed for a long time, as our former com. 
 panions sought to kill us, and hunted us like wolves. Our 
 lives were in danger every minute — but lately they don't 
 trouble us much. 
 
 "' But I say, stranger, how's things up North? Is there 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 259 
 
 going to be another war? We think there will be soon. If 
 there is you may count on me in going in for Union! ' 
 
 " He now brought me out a lunch to which I did ample 
 justice, and then I asked for a blanket that I might go to 
 sleep upon the porch, as agreed. 
 
 " <- No sir,' said he ; 'no blanket for you ; I've as good a 
 bed as there is in this part of the country, and you are 
 welcome to it!' 
 
 "After sleeping till morning I found a fine breakfiist 
 awaiting me, and that my horse had been already taken care 
 of; and when I started off again my landlord accompanied nie 
 for several miles to show me the way." 
 
 " That's a good story," said Colonel Van Buren, of the 
 i92d New York; "but let me tell an incident that will remind 
 many of you of a hundred similar schemes which the home- 
 sick invented to get discharged. 
 
 "You all know how the boys tried the insanity dodge. 
 Well, there was one fellow in my regiment who played it 
 most successfully. We were at Fort Grebel in February, 
 1862. Fort Grebel was on the branch of the Potomac, 
 opposite Arlington Heights. 
 
 " One night there was a very heavy rain, and in the morn- 
 ing, before the other soldiers began to stir about the camp, 
 this fellow~I have forgotten his name — tied a string to his 
 bayonet, took a position on the parapet, began fishing ;n a 
 shallow pool, and to all appearances became entirely unmind- 
 ful of his surroundings. 
 
 " An hour passed. No one interrupted him, and still he 
 could be seen quietly but regularly lifting his gun with the 
 string from the pool, as though the gun were a fishing pole, 
 and that he had a bite. By and by the sun came up, and 
 while the other boys were going about camp preparing for 
 breakfast, the fisherman still kept up his weary stroke, lifting 
 his supposed fishing-tackle from the water almost as regularly 
 as though it were done by a clock. 
 
26o CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "The surroundings and occasion were such that it was 
 only necessary for a sane man to look once in order to be 
 convinced that something was lacking about. the ' head-work ' 
 of the machine which was fishing in the pool. 
 
 " The boys all began to talk about the matter, many of 
 them jesting in a manner wholly amusing. But no cessation 
 in the regular stroke of the fisherman. Finally the matter 
 came to the notice of the captain, who at once proceeded to 
 the interesting scene of operations. 
 
 "' What are you doing there?' he demanded. 
 
 " No response. The gun and string were lifted with the 
 same regularity as ever. 
 
 " ' Halt! ' commanded the captain. 
 
 " Not a single movement of the fisherman. Up went the 
 pretended fishing-tackle again. 
 
 "'Shoulder arms!' again commanded the captain, think- 
 ing that hearing an accustomed order might bring the soldier 
 to his senses. 
 
 " But the warrior's countenance was as rigid as ever, and 
 the fixed stare seemed riveted on the string which hung from 
 the point of his bayonet and dropped carelessly down into the 
 small pool before him. 
 
 " The captain now concluded to report the matter to the 
 colonel, and started oflf on the errand at once. He suddenly 
 met the colonel who had also beheld the fisherman, and was 
 coming to investigate. The captain then returned to the scene 
 with the colonel, when the same experience was repeated. 
 
 " The colonel concluded to call the surgeon, who came 
 and examined the fisherman, — as well as possible while the 
 incessant raising and lowering of his gun was being carried 
 on, — and recommended that the insane fisherman be given a 
 discharge, which was accordingly written out and handed to 
 the captain j but before it was given to the soldier, the colonel 
 asked : 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 261 
 
 " ' What are you fishing for ? ' 
 
 " No reply. 
 
 " * Well, I guess you can give him the document,' con- 
 tinued the colonel, and the captain handed it over to the 
 fisherman, saying loudly: 
 
 "'Here! take this!' 
 
 " ' T/zafs what I was JishingforJ replied the fisherman 
 as he threw down his gun, pocketed the discharge, and imme- 
 diately left camp, much to the amazement of the colonel, the 
 captain and the surgeon, and very much to the amusement of 
 all others who had heard the conversation." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXIII. 
 
 THE WRONG OX BY THE HORNS — THE TABLES TURNED ON 
 
 AN officer's STRICT DISCIPLINE A DECISION BY 
 
 MANSFIELD, GENERAL RIVALRY IN RELIGION. 
 
 FEW evenings since," said Mr. S. W. Rodgers, "a 
 reminiscence of General Nelson was given, in which 
 ^^ something was said about strict discipline. I remember 
 a similar incident in which an officer was compelled to take a 
 dose of his own medicine. It was in the fall of 1863, after 
 the army had advanced beyond Chattanooga. Fortress Rose- 
 era ns, Murfreesboro, was garrisoned by disabled batteries — to 
 man the guns and do guard-duty they kept a picket line 
 around the fortress. 
 
 " Some of the officers in command of the post were not 
 liked as well as they might have been, had they been more 
 deserving. One of these, who was officer of the day at one 
 time, and who had not been accustomed to holding office of 
 any kind, much less to commanding soldiers, concluded that 
 he would like to show his authority. So he gave strict official 
 instruction to the pickets, each to halt at twenty paces, dis- 
 mount, advance, and give the countersign. 
 
 " All this passed off well enough, the boys executing the 
 order to the letter. But finally the tables were turned. The 
 officer tried to catch some of the boys asleep at their posts, 
 but of course failed, most ludicrously. On the bank of Stone 
 River, where the line crossed, there happened to be a reso- 
 lute young fellow who could not be intimidated nor imposed 
 
 upon. 
 
 26a 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 263 
 
 "The pickets saw that the officer in discussion was trying to 
 impress upon the minds of the boys the fact that he had been 
 promoted, and his vigilance, the picket, at once concluded to 
 muster and control all his accustomed wariness, The officer 
 approached from the opposite side of the river. The picket, 
 however, had previously ascertained the fact that it was pre- 
 cisely twenty paces from where he was standing to the middle 
 of the river. It may have occurred, however, nothing being 
 found in the annals of history to the contrary, that the picket 
 previously moved his post a few feet from its original location 
 toward the river, in order to have the middle of the river exact- 
 ly twenty paces from his post; but this has never been proven. 
 
 " Whichever vr."y that may have been, these two things 
 are certain : That the officer rode into the stream with con- 
 siderable pomp, and that the picket stood at his post with just 
 as much pomp, like the hero that he was, probably thinking 
 of Casablanca and a certain incident in the navy when the 
 deck was on fire. 
 
 " When the officer had reached the middle of the stream," 
 continued Mr. Rodgers, who had been interrupted by the 
 throwing of more twigs on the camp-fire, " the picket imme- 
 diately commanded: 
 
 « ' Halt ! Who goes there ? ' 
 
 " ' I'm the officer of the guard^ replied the officer. 
 
 " ' Dismount, advance and give the countersign! ' was the 
 further order from the picket. 
 
 "i Why, don't you know me, sir? — I'm the officer of the 
 guard, sir, — officer of the guard! ' repeating the emphasized 
 words with much importance. 
 
 " ' I'm not supposed to know any one. I abide by the 
 code, sir, — abide by the code; I must obey orders^sir^ — o-b-e-y 
 orders!'' responded the picket, with the same kind of empha- 
 sis that had come from the man in the river, and the picket 
 raised his gun to fire. 
 
264 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 « ' Hold on! ' cried the officer, "77/ dismount ! ' and down 
 he went into the river, the water of which had heen a month 
 or two before considerably warmer than it was then. Any 
 one who was listening might have heard an unusual amount 
 of swearing by the ''officer of the guard'^ but this had no effect 
 on the picket, who waited patiently for the officer to dis- 
 mount, advance, and give the countersign. Next day the 
 picket was put under arrest at the instance of the enraged 
 officer, and was tried by court-martial, but of course cleared." 
 
 Then General I. N. Stiles remembered a decision by 
 Mansfield, the general, which the legal fraternity may com- 
 pare with one by Mansfield, the justice. 
 
 "When the rebel ram,Mernmac," said he, " first appeared 
 at Hampton Roads — March 8, 1862, — General Mansfield was 
 in command of the land forces. The ram had sunk the Union 
 war vessel 'Cumberland' and had disabled the 'Congress,' 
 which was run ashore to prevent her being captured by 
 the 'rebs.' 
 
 " Seeing this. General Mansfield ordered the 20th In- 
 diana Infantry to deploy along the beach, behind a sand 
 ridge, to prevent the 'Congress' from being hauled off by the 
 enemy. This vessel, now helpless and at the mercy of the 
 Merrimac's guns, had run up a white flag in token of sur- 
 render. Captain R., of the 20th Indiana, who had been as 
 good a lawyer at home as he was now soldier in the field, 
 susfsrested that it would be a violation of the laws of war to 
 prevent the enemy from taking possession of the vessel, since 
 'she had already surrendered.' 
 
 " I know the d — d ship has surrendered,' replied General 
 Mansfield, ' but I want you to understand that we haven't' 
 The decision was final." 
 
 After the foregoing incident a veteran who, through 
 modesty, declined to give his name, told a religious (?) anec- 
 dote. His name being unknown, the S. P. U. H. chroniclers 
 
 I 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 265 
 
 might have attempted to describe him, but he stood behind 
 the smoke which was then rolling in clouds from the fire, so 
 that he could not be seen. His story is this : 
 
 " After we had settled down to some reliable routine of 
 spending our time in the army, and had established what may 
 be termed army society, our brigade and the one which was 
 usually next to us became the most earnest rivals in almost 
 everythm^. 
 
 " The colonels of the brigades seemed to catch the inspi- 
 ration, and the friendly contests which we had, generally cen- 
 tered in them. 
 
 " Well, one season there was a religious revival in oui 
 brigade, which furnished an interesting programme for some 
 time. The boys had been given a season of rest, and having 
 much time to reflect upon their active wickedness,thev became 
 passive, and concluded to be at least entertained by the exer- 
 cises. 
 
 " The other brigade saw that we were excelling them in 
 this respect, and they determined upon a revival. Then an 
 excitement arose, and the interest increased until finally twelve 
 of our boys 'got religion,' and desired to be baptized. The 
 baptism was administered, and soon a report of the occur- 
 rence came to the ears of the colonel of the other brigade, 
 who called up the chaplain at once, and said: 
 
 "'Here! Chaplain, you have let that brigade over there 
 get ahead of us! Go and detail at least thirty able-bodied 
 men for baptism immediately. We'll not be outdone by 
 them.' " 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXIV. 
 
 THE WRONG KIND OF A CAT — *« MORE ABOUT THE BROKEN 
 WINDOW," OR CRAWFORD AGAIN. 
 
 fUST before Sherman started to Vicksburg," said a com- 
 rade from the 76th Ohio, " the river became so low that 
 it was exceedingly difficult to make any speed with the 
 boats. The nights were very dark, on account of the thick 
 fogs, and we therefore gave up trying to run at night. As 
 soon as it began to grow dark, the boats dropped anchor, and 
 then came the time tor rest and recreation, especially the lat- 
 ter, the opportunity for which was generally improved by 
 hunting something fresh to eat. 
 
 " Two of us left the boat as soon as we could get ashore, 
 and started off for a neighboring wilderness. We hurried 
 along and were soon lost from the sight of the river and 
 the dim outlines of the boats as they were ' tooting ' and puf- 
 fing to and fro over the sand-bars. 
 
 "We passed an old deserted log-cabin that well repre- 
 sented to my mind the birthplace of some illustrious states- 
 man, as indicated by some imaginative pictures. On our first 
 approach to the place, my heart bounded in the hope that 
 we would soon have our stomach filled with something a 
 little more palatable than hard-tack and bacon, but the nearer 
 we approached the place the nearer our hearts approached our 
 boots. No inhabitants, human or otherwise, could be found. 
 It was the first domicil I had ever seen about which there 
 was absolutely no living thing, — that is, nothing large enough 
 to eat. The situation was very apparent — as much so as the 
 
 266 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 267 
 
 growing darkness would allow. Curiosity, however, led us 
 to explore. Old memories began to haunt us. I remembered 
 the * poet's lines,' in the ' Return of the Dead :' 
 
 "'The bolt flew back with sudden clangj 
 I entered; wall and rafter rang.* 
 
 " But the application of this was not practical, for two 
 reasons: First, there was no bolt, and probably there never 
 had been any; and second, there was no door, and with 
 equal probability, there may never have been any. I thought 
 of the two lines of poetry again, and at once concluded that 
 they would be appropriate if I should change the punctua- 
 tion. Hence, not thinking what I was about, I repeated the 
 couplet aloud: 
 
 *" The bolt flew back with sudden clang; 
 I entered the wall; and the rafter rang I ' 
 
 "No sooner had I repeated the lines than I adopted the 
 conclusion, and thought to try the experiment. I called to 
 my comrade: 
 
 "' Come on; let's go in, and see what's here, any way.' 
 " ' All right,' he replied, and soon was around on my side 
 of the concern. We stepped nearer to the old hull. I put 
 my hand against a log to try its firmness. That whole part 
 of the building fell in! Sure enough, I did then enter the 
 wall, my comrade following. We were now inside of the 
 building. For my own part, I felt a little strange. Every- 
 thing was quiet, of course. I looked around carefully with- 
 out moving. There were many dark corners, and many 
 openings to the habitation, the principal one of which was 
 overhead; in fact, the' entire roof was made of sky. We 
 looked and listened for a moment longer. There was a slight 
 dull sound that startled us. ^ hen there was an unpleasant 
 odor — perhaps from the rotten wood. We immediately left 
 
268 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 the premises, but the scent did not leave us, and the only 
 unmistakable and unsatisfactory conclusion that we could 
 adopt was, that a certain kind of a cat lived there. 
 
 " Undaunted by this," continued the narrator, " we became 
 only the more determined to have something to eat before re- 
 turning, so we started on down the road. Before we went very 
 far, however, we saw a light, and soon found this proceeded 
 from the present abode of the people who had once lived in 
 the dilapidated hulk which we had just left. We were now 
 very tired, and concluded to purchase something to eat instead 
 of looking farther. We bought six chickens and a few other 
 things for five dollars, and, to the relief of the householders, 
 made a short stay, returning hurriedly to the boat to change 
 our clothing. As we approached the boat," — 
 
 " Wait!" said the commander of the camp-fire. " Don't 
 tell the rest of it." 
 
 "No! your story is too long now," added the reporter, 
 and the comrade sat down amidst applause. 
 
 Mr. Crawley then supplemented his reminiscence of 
 Crawford with the following: 
 
 " On the march and in camp Crawford always improved 
 every oppoitunity to make fun for the boys; but it was in 
 ' winter-quarters' where his propensity for fun found its full 
 vent. With the aid of powder he invented all sorts of explo- 
 sives, keeping the camp in a continual uproar; and that, too, 
 without getting into trouble. He was always able to conceal 
 the origin of his mischief, for, while many ol the officers and 
 men suspected who was the real author of all the fuss, but 
 few of them could have testified to it, and they could not have 
 been induced to betray him. 
 
 " One evening, I remember, as the men were falling in 
 for roll-call, there occurred a terrific explosion which created 
 the wildest commotion. Horses broke loose from the picket- 
 line; men rushed for their arms, and the excitement at once 
 
270 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 spread over the camp. The enemy was thought to be right 
 down on us, and immediate preparations began to be made to 
 resLst an attack. The adjutant was sent to investigate, while 
 the regiment sent up a yell which ended in a general laugh, 
 with cries, ' Crawford again! Crawford again! ' 
 
 " A little later I met Crawford with the same sad expres- 
 sion on his face, and taking me aside, he showed me what, 
 before it had exploded, had been a lead cannon, 
 
 " ' How did it come to explode? ' I asked; for after burst- 
 ing it had bulged out in the middle and had more the appear- 
 ance of a steel rat-trap, when set, than anything else. He 
 was now seized with another fit of laughter, during which he 
 caught me by the arm and executed the ' Highland Fling' 
 schottische around me, occasionally striking me in the back 
 to give zest to the performance. 
 
 " When the fit was over he said that he took half a 
 canteen and put the edge of it on a split stick. This con- 
 trivance served as a ladle in which he melted bullets. These 
 he poured into a miniature well, in the center of which he 
 had placed a small round stick perpendicularly, and around 
 the stick; wrapped a piece of wet paper. The molten lead 
 was then poured into the well until it stood above the end of 
 the stick. After allowing the lead time to cool he dug it out, 
 pulled out the stick, filled the lead cast thus obtained with 
 powder, closed the muzzle by hammering it together, bored a 
 hole about midway between the breech and muzzle, and then 
 _ie concern was ready for business. 
 
 «t Why did you use lead?' I asked, after he had finished 
 describing the process of manufacturing the bogus cannon. 
 
 "'Because,' he replied, 'it is safe. Lead will tear apart 
 but not break into pieces; and being soft, I could close the 
 muzzle and get a much louder report. See? And then if 
 anybody should happen to find it, they wouldn't know what to 
 *lo wvth it;' and he laughed again. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 2'Jl 
 
 « I shall never forget the night Crawford persuaded Jim 
 Haiiday into his tent to play 'seven-up.' Jim was a 'recruit,' 
 and had just begun to be fascinated by the game of cards. 
 Crawford had always felt morally obligated to teach the 
 recruits all the methods of army life, and generally had a 
 new mode of initiation for each one. Jim, of course, could 
 not be allowed to remain long in camp uninitiated. 
 
 "On this particular night, Haiiday played with the usual 
 peculiar luck which attends beginners, and frequently made 
 *high, low, jack and the game,' and probably could have 
 had the ' gift,' by asking for it; but he did not know that the 
 piece of candle which burned within a foot of his head was 
 loaded^ nor that above him was suspended a bucket of watei 
 neatly on a pivot from which a small cord hung innocentl}! 
 by the side of Crawford; nor was he aware that beneath 
 him, and beside the box on which he sat, lay at least a quar- 
 ter of a pound of loose powder, Haiiday held wonderful 
 hands; he had just scored the inevitable ' high, low, jack and 
 the game,' and the eager, flushed face, and sparkling eye, 
 bespoke the excitement and pleasure born of victory, when 
 the candle explodes and a piece of the burning wick sets 
 Haliday's hair in a blaze, the powder is ignited beneath him, 
 and while he and Crawford are both fighting the fire in 
 Haliday's fore-top, Haiiday is treated to a cold shower bath 
 from above. Haiiday was so badly frightened that he never 
 got angry until next day, when he proposed to ' lick ' Craw- 
 ford; but Crawford convinced him that the true policy was 
 to claim, that while writing a letter home to his moi-:er in 
 his tent, he thoughtlessly got his head too near the candle. 
 Crawford told me a few days after this episode, while con- 
 vulsed with laughter, that he regarded it as an outrage tiiat 
 so few of the boys called on him at his tent. He also stated 
 (and I believe truly) that the selting fire to Haliday's head, 
 by the piece of burning wick, was wholly unforeseen and 
 
372 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 unintended. It may have been only imaginative, but it never 
 seemed to me that Hahday held as good hands, or played 
 the game with the same eager, unreserved, child-like con- 
 fidence, that he did before he encountered Crawford. 
 
 " For ' winter-quarters,' near Brownsville, Arkansas, some 
 of the men built regular log-houses with chimneys and fire- 
 places; others put up frame structures, six feet by ten, using a 
 tent for a roof, but even these structures had small chimneys 
 with fire-places; two bunks were constructed, one above the 
 other, at right angles to the fire-place, and in front of the 
 lower bunk a board or box was placed in front of the fire for 
 a seat. One dark rainy night while walking down the 'tent- 
 Ime,' old man Seward and Bierman jumped out of the top of 
 one of these structures, carrying the tent roof with them, fol- 
 lowed by a cloud of smoke and ashes. I had heard a noise be- 
 fore I left my quarters, but noises were so frequent that I paid 
 no particular attention to this one. Seward and Bierman, who 
 * bunked' and 'messed' together, were members of the church, 
 and v^ere trying to lead a consistent life ; and they succeeded as 
 well nb their surroundings would permit, but it was a terribly 
 uphill-business. On the evening in question it seems they 
 hnd ' read a chapter,' and were engaged in singing the 
 familiar and comforting hy mn : 
 
 * It may not be my way, 
 It may not be thy way, 
 And yet, in His own way, 
 The Lord will provide,' 
 
 when the 'back-log' exploded, and threw consternation, 
 ashes, live coals, and burning brands, all over the interior 
 of the 'domicile of the faithful,' and Seward and Bierman, 
 in the excitement and hurry of the moment, and doubtless 
 as a matter of convenience, escaped through the roof. 
 
 "I hunted up Crawford, finding him in his bunk; he 
 reached for me, and clutching me tightly by the arm 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 273 
 
 With one hand, with the other he would stuff the cor- 
 ner of the blanket in his mouth, and shake and kick. 
 He finally became composed enough to tell me that it 
 had been raining all day, and supposing that somebody 
 would need a ' back-log,' he had prepared one, and haa 
 been careful not to cut it too long ; that with a half-incli 
 auger he had bored a half dozen holes in it and charged them 
 with powder, and placed it where everybody must pass over 
 it, in walking up and down the 'tent-line;' 'and do you 
 know,' said he, ' I watched it for four mortal hours, before 
 anybody took up with it, and yet every man in the compan\ 
 has stepped over it, from one to three times, and I know that 
 fully two-thirds of them were out of wood, and too lazy to 
 cut any; but at last Bierman carried it in, and he and Sewara 
 made a good fire and sat down and began to sing hymns. 
 Everything was so quiet that I began to grow restless anc 
 uneasy, and concluded to drop in on them and inquire how 
 they were getting on; they were very friendly, but somehow 
 I couldn't make myself at home, and presently when a piece 
 of the bark of the ' back-log' threw the ' fore-stick ' into my 
 lap, I told them I guessed I would go, that it was getting 
 late, that I had been 'on duty' the night before, and waa 
 tired and sleepy; they mentioned that the wood was green 
 and popped badly, and I told thera that I had noticed the 
 same thing myself; as I was leaving they were re-adjusting 
 the » fore-stick ' and sweeping up the litter, but before I gof 
 to my tent I heard her go off, and saw them climbing om 
 through the top; then I got in my bunk with my boots on, 
 and began to snore. I am glad I called on them, for I would 
 hate to have them suspect me!! ^"<J again he clutched me by 
 the arm and stuffed the blanket in his mouth, and shook and 
 kicked. I always thought that Seward suspicioned Crawford 
 as in some way connected with his being blown up, and 
 Crawford thought so too, for he told me that he noticed 
 18 
 
2/4 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 a change in his manner. But in the fight at Mulberry Creek 
 Seward had his horse shot under him, and while fooling 
 n round trying to save his saddle, a retreat was ordered, and 
 the Old man was left behind, nearly ' tuckered out,' and the 
 surroundings generally were unpleasant. Crawford went 
 back and took him on behind him and got away with him, 
 fraternally, as well as physically. When the news reached 
 us that Lee and Johnston had surrendered to Grant and 
 Sherman, that the Southern Confederacy had collapsed, and 
 the war was over, we were inhaling the perfume of the 
 magnolia, and a grateful sense of peace took the place of the 
 hideous nightmare of civil war that had oppressed us for 
 four long terrible years, and all eyes, except Crawford's, 
 turned gladly homeward. He alone seemed gloomy and 
 despondent, and went about with the air and expression of 
 one who had been deeply wronged and injured. I ventured 
 to inquire the cause, and he told me that he had prepared a 
 series of entertainments for the boys that would consume at 
 least a year, and yet the war had been abruptly brought to a 
 close, that he had no notice of it, and had not even been con- 
 sulted ill the matter, and that he knew the boys would be 
 disapDointed. I do not know whether he is still alive or not, 
 but if he is living, and his eye should rest upon this brief, 
 hasty narrative, I am sure he would not be offended, for two 
 reasons: First, because it is literally true, and secondly, 
 because there never was and never will be, two more devoted 
 frienus rhan we." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXV. 
 
 RAW RECRUIT S ANXIETY ANOTHER STORY ABOUI 
 
 ANOTHER MULE ON THE ST. FRANCIS RIVER — A 
 
 GENERAL INCOG. REFUSED A CUP OF COFFEE A CON- 
 
 )S the tones of the previous speaker died away with the 
 soft noise of the wind through the branches of the trees 
 .,5^ that overliung the glowing embers of the fire, R. C. 
 Coyner, of the 38th Indiana, Vol. Inf., remarked: "I haa 
 just enlisted from the school-room at Hanover College, near 
 Madison, Ind., when we were ordered by General Sherman 
 to head off Buckner, who was raiding the northern part O-^ 
 Kentucky. We were in company with the Louisville 
 Legion, the 6th Indiana, the ist Ohio, and the 15th Indiana 
 regulars. We were all raw recruits except the 15th Indiana, 
 and knew about as much concerning discipline and drill as so 
 many school-boys; nevertheless, we thought ourselves the 
 flower of the army. After leaving New Albany, Ind., we 
 marched to Louisville, then took the cars to Lebanon 
 Junction, and then marched to Elizabethtown, Ky. After we 
 reached this point we went into camp. 
 
 " One day Captain Pointdexter, our captain, detailed me 
 for detached service, and I was ordered to report at General 
 Sherman's headquarters. Upon my arrival I was put in 
 command of a squad whose duty was to guard the general's 
 quarters. I relieved the guard on duty, and posted my men 
 to the best of my ability The day grew apace, and toward 
 night General Sherman emerged from his tent and began to 
 
 275 
 
276 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 pace a beat in front, with his hands behind him, and his head 
 bent forward, seemingly in a brown study. My inexperience 
 and unfamiliarity with the scenes and customs of military 
 service rendered me all the more alive to my ideas of a sol- 
 dier's duty, and as I beheld our commander pacing to and fro, 
 the idea occurred to me that the responsibility of guarding 
 our general was one of no mean importance. We had no idea 
 of the proximity of the rebel forces, but the night was coming 
 on and I began to fear that, in case of a surprise, the guard 
 was ill fitted to protect the person of our chieftain. The 
 more I thought of it, the more solicitous I felt. 
 
 " At length I concluded that I would ask the general if 
 it would not be the proper thing to double the guard about 
 the headquarters. 
 
 " Accordingly I stepped up, and after saluting the gen- 
 eral, asked: 
 
 " ' General, don't you think it would be a good thing to 
 double the guard for the night?' 
 
 " The general looked at me in a surprised sort ot way, and 
 said, after a moment's reflection* 
 
 "'What did you say?' 
 
 " ' Don't you think the guard should be doubled for the 
 night?' I repeated. 
 
 * Sir, you are drunk!' was the replv that fell upon my 
 astonished ears. 
 
 "'General, I mean what I say — you can maka inquiry 
 of my colonel and captain as to my habits if you nave any 
 doubts as to my sobriety,' I ventured to remark. 
 
 " The general laughed in an amused kind of way, and 
 raising his long arm and waving me a curious salute, said : 
 
 " ' Ah, I have been accustomed to having regulars for my 
 guard. I do not think there is any use of doubling the guard 
 to-night, sir.' 
 
 "The full force of his remark did not dawn upon my 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 2>i 
 
 peaceful mind until I had seen more service, but I can assure 
 you, boys, that I know now just what he meant." 
 
 Comrade Coyner's anecdote brought a smile to the face 
 of every veteran present, and each recalled the first time he 
 shouldered his musket and went with a squad of " greenies,'* 
 of whom which was the greenest it was hard to tell, to learn 
 the drill. 
 
 The smiles were still lingering upon the fire-lit faces, 
 when comrade Coyner supplemented his story with the 
 following : 
 
 "At the battle of Perry ville, and, by the way, boys, that 
 was one of the hottest fights I saw during my three years of 
 service, I noticed a mule out in front of our line, and directly 
 in the line of fire, quietly grazing. He continued to nibble 
 the grass as unconcernedly as though he were a thousand 
 miles away from a battlefield. I was wondering at the 
 splendid nonchalance of the long-eared beast, when a small 
 cannon ball struck him in the upper part of the neck and 
 tore a huge hole. The animal staggered a little, and, as if 
 unmindful of his hurt, began to graze again," — 
 
 " How big was the ball that hit him?" asked an ex-army 
 teamster. 
 
 " Well, I should judge it was a twelve-pound shot, 
 judging from th^^ size of the hole it made," replied comrade 
 Coyner. 
 
 The audible smiles of those present made the air quiver 
 with fun, and the good-natured elves who have always been 
 in attendance upon the scribe of the S. P. U. H. during his 
 stay at these camp-fires, indulged in a fantastic minuet in 
 order to allay their propensity to get into mischief. 
 
 A broad smile irradiated the visage of J. O. Henderson of 
 the Soth Ohio, who related the following: 
 
 " We were lying at the mouth of the St. Francis River, a 
 small, swiftly -flowing stream which empties into the Missis- 
 
278 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 sippi above Helena, and one afternoon we were detailed to 
 board a small stern-wheeled steamer, and go up the river to 
 capture some Confederate commissary stores. We got off 
 finally, yet we made but little progress, as the river was 
 very swift, and our boat ill adapted to stem such a swift 
 current. 
 
 " We puffed and wheezed along at a snail-like pace, hug- 
 ging the shore, and the night came on. The weaAer was 
 misty, and the night pitch dark. We ran out of wood 
 and went ashore to get a supply. Having loaded up, we cast 
 and swung into the current. After some hours' steaming we 
 ran out of wood the second time, and seeing a light on shore, 
 hailed it, and asked if we could get wood there. The reply 
 being m the affirmative, we landed and again renewed our 
 stock of fuel. Again we cast off, and went on our way. 
 
 " Toward morning we were also in need of fuel, and 
 hailing another light, arranged to obtain more wood, the 
 owner saying as we touched the shore: 
 
 " ' I guess that you can have it at $3.00, bein' as you fel- 
 lers have got wood here twice before to-night!' 
 
 " The fact was we had not been over half a mile from 
 that wood yard all night long, and when it was light enough 
 to see, it was apparent that our vessel could not make any 
 progress. We therefore turned around and went back." 
 
 The amanuensis of the S. P. U. H. having made his 
 notes of the foregoing, was sharpening his pencil for fur- 
 ther work, when a comrade of Smith Hancock of Co. D, 
 80th Ohio, narrated this incident: 
 
 " While we were encamped near Farmington, down in 
 Mississippi, Smith Hancock had built a fire one morning and 
 was cooking his breakfast, when General Hamilton came 
 along with a small coffee-pot in his hand, and asked if he 
 might make some coffee. 
 
 "'Naw, ye can't!' said Hancock, 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 279 
 
 «*Well,' said the general, *I'm half sick, and I want to 
 make a cup of coffee. I wont disturb your cooking at all.' 
 
 " * Oh, go to h — 1 and make your coffee,' retorted Hancock. 
 
 "Notwithstanding the protest, the general placed his coffee- 
 pot on the fire, when Hancock stepped up and kicked it away 
 some twenty feet, and said : 
 
 "'Lookee here, if you try that again, I'll lick h — 1 out of 
 you!' 
 
 "'All right,' oaid the new comer, who began to pull ofr 
 his coat. 
 
 " As his coat came off, Hancock saw the general's stars, 
 and he uttered an expression of surprise and bolted into the 
 bushes, as if the Old Nick was after him. We could hen 5 
 him crashing through the bushes for three hundred yards. 
 
 " It wasn't ten minutes until the story spread among the 
 Doys, and, as it went along, the yell went up, and the progress 
 of the yarn could be plainly distinguished along the line. 
 
 " Hancock did not come in for a week, and when he did 
 put in an appearance the boys tormented the life nearly out 
 of him." 
 
 "Another funny thing occurred down in Vicksburg," said 
 a gray-haired man who had listened attentively to all that had 
 been said. "Chaplain Howard, of the 42d Ilhnois, approached 
 a knot of Confederate prisoners and accosted a long, lean, 
 lank specimen, with: 
 
 "*My friend, h^ive you the Gosj. A among you?' 
 
 "'Waal, I can't tell ye, stranger; I dunno nuthin' about 
 it here — don't think we've got it, but I hearn that it has broke 
 out awful bad down in Camp Douglas!' 
 
 " The Confederate thought the chaplain was talkin<i 
 about some disease. 
 
 " As soon as the chaplain recovered from his surprise he 
 retreated in good order, and before night-fall the story wa^ 
 all over camp." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXVI. 
 
 THE SEQUEL TO THE FARMER AND THE WATERMELONS — 
 THE UN-WISDOM OF A RAW RECRUIT — A JOKE ON 
 THE GENERAL THE TEMPERANCE MAJOR THE CAP- 
 TAIN WHO didn't water his WHISKEY. 
 
 cWN August, 1864," said Mr. A. M. Peck, "our regiment 
 |n was stationed at Paducah, Ky., and a little incident 
 ^ occurred there which is similar to one told at the first 
 camp-fire. Realizing that the soldiers were often without 
 fresh vegetables for weeks at a time, and sometimes without 
 any, the citizens frequently brought garden truck, fruit, mel- 
 ons, etc., into camp, where such things usually found a ready 
 market, especially when the prices were anywhere near 
 reasonable. But occasionally there would a fellow come 
 along, who had most wonderful ideas of the value of his 
 goods, vividly reminding us of the sutler. To pay for the 
 privilege of selling to the boys the traders usually took a 
 liberal measure to headquarters. 
 
 " One pleasant day the cry of ' Here's yer mule ! ' rang 
 through the camp. All the boys were on the alert for some 
 fun, if it was to be had. The mule was a small one, 
 hitched to a dilapiaated old wagon, with an old skeleton of a 
 horse which one would think would need weather-boarding 
 to keep the hay that he ate from blowing away. 
 
 '« In the wagon were a few bushels of apples, but from 
 their appearance One could never guess what they really 
 were; knotty things about the size of green walnuts, black 
 and muddy from having lain on. the ground so long before 
 
 a8» 
 
283 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 gathering, and were really unfit for first-class hog-feed. 
 In all probability the apples had once been thrown to the 
 swine, which had turned away from them, the apple merchant 
 then collecting and offering them to the soldiers. He had 
 heard that anything eatable could be sold to soldiers at a big 
 price, and now expected to make a small fortune. 
 
 " But his hopes soon vanished. The boys gathered around, 
 and of course sampled the apples as fast as they could. 
 Only a few, however, were fit to be sampled. The driver 
 thus saw the choicest (if this adjective is applicable) pieces 
 of his fruit rapidly vanishing without any pecuniary return, or 
 even promise of such. He at once concluded to make a des- 
 perate effort to save what was left, and whipped away at his 
 sad-faced donkey and his almost fleshless horse, until first the 
 horse and then the donkey began to approach something like 
 a trot, as near as could be judged by soldiers who had had 
 considerable experience in equestrianism before the war. 
 But before the celerity of the team attained the before-men- 
 tioned desired gait, the top of a hill was reached, which 
 achievement, however, was made after a certahi other event 
 took place, namely: The boys kept even pace with the wagon, 
 and also kept abstracting apples therefrom until the vehicle 
 had been dragged nearly to the top of the hill, when, by 
 some sleight-of-hand, one of the boys slipped out the hind 
 gate of the wagon box, and, sad to tell, the countryman's 
 apples, severally and collectively, suddenly retreated and 
 were captured by a large number of soldiers, who were in the 
 reserve, while the driver, now finding it easy to persuade the 
 mule and the horse to proceed faster on account of the down 
 grade, — looked not back, but accepted the result, sadly con- 
 cluding that there was great falsehood in the rumor he had 
 heard about such high prices being obtained from soldiers foi 
 such a low grade of fruit." 
 
 Mr. W. B. Cowan then said that he remembered an 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 283 
 
 incident about raw recruits, « while on the march to Atlanta, 
 that created fun for us soldiers. 
 
 « As was our custom, we had halted along the road for a 
 tew minutes' rest, and as soon as the * Halt' was sounded every 
 fellow immediately tumbled down into a fence corner, or 
 where the fence corner should have been, in order to get all 
 the rest possible before the * Forward' was sounded. All the 
 old regiments at that time had received a good many new 
 recruits, and they had not become acustomed to old soldiers' 
 ways. When we would halt for a rest, new recruits would be 
 passing frequently, to catch up with their regiments. You 
 could always recognize one of them by the load he carried — 
 a big knapsack with a change of clothes, a blanket or two, 
 and almost always with the bayonet on his gun. We halted 
 one warm day away down in Georgia, and one of those re- 
 cruits, with an unusual big load on his back, and a new, bright 
 bayonet on his gun, came dragging himself along, when one 
 of the old boys in our regiment, a droll wag of a fellow, raised 
 up on his elbow, took a good long look at the recruit, and 
 said: 'Hello, soldier!' The fellow stopped. 'Where did 
 you git that gun sharpened?' The fellow could make no 
 answer. It raised a yell that did not die out until the recruit 
 had gone out of sight." 
 
 The drum major of the 72d Illinois Infantry, Mr. Edward 
 B. Potter, then said, that ''immediately after tlie fight at 
 Franklin, Tenn., (I have forgotten the date), the supplies 
 were, for some unknow^n reason, slow in coming — so much 
 so, that our regiment was fed on roasted corn for about fi\e 
 days. Of course some of the boys objected, and cursed the 
 government for not having better food ready for them at the 
 proper time; but they composed a very small per cent. The 
 great majority laughed and chatted, taking it all in good fun, 
 and watched their opportunity to play a joke on the general. 
 After a few days ot corn rations, and immediately after 
 
284 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 breakfast one morning, an orderly sergeant of one of the 
 companies took a rope and tying six or eight of the comrades 
 in a string, started down the road. Wondering what on 
 earth the sergeant meant, the astonished general rode up and 
 inquired : 
 
 "'What in (Hades) is the matter here? What have 
 these men done, sir, that they should be treated in this 
 manner ? ' 
 
 " ' Well, general, said the sergeant, with a very guilty 
 look, as if he had really assumed the authority to punish the 
 boys for some supposed wrong, — ' well, general, I have just 
 fed my mules their corn, and am now taking them down to 
 water.' 
 
 "* Ha! ha! ha!' burst from all who could hear the remark, 
 which, indeed, was loud enough. 
 
 "' Sold again!' said the general, who kindly saluted them 
 and rode off." 
 
 " As short stories seem to be in order, here is one," 
 remarked a comrade from the East, a guest at the camp-fire. 
 
 " In the fall of '64 the artillery brigade to which I was 
 attached, was under the command of a major from Maine, 
 who had unfortunately departed from the tem^Derance princi- 
 ples for which that State has for so many years been noted. 
 It was my misfortune for a time to have charge of the whis- 
 key at the headquarters, to which the major's brigade was 
 attached, and many laughable incidents occurred, one of 
 which comes back fresh to my mind on the present occasion. 
 
 " In anticipation of his birthday, and a celebration with 
 friends, as I surmised, the major, the day previous to that an- 
 niversary, rode up to headquarters and accosting me by name, 
 inquired how much whiskey I had on hand, 
 
 " Not thinking our supply of stimulant needed in the 
 direction mentioned, the major already being far too much 
 under its influence, I evaded a true statement, and replied: 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 285 
 
 « < Only a small quantity, major.' 
 
 "Not satisfied, he again put the question in the same 
 thick, unsteady voice before used. This time, still wishing to 
 convey the idea of a very limited quantity, I answered : 
 
 " ' I may have about two gallons.' 
 
 « The major straightened iiimself up as best he could 
 and, with a most disappointed and disdainful look, exclaimed : 
 
 "'What is, hie, two gallons of whiskey among one man!' 
 and slowly rode away. 
 
 "And let me tell you in this connection about the captain, 
 having charge of the commissary department at the head- 
 quarters of the corps lying next to ours, who did not water 
 his whiskey, 
 
 " Riding upon one occasion with several fellow officers to 
 our headquarters, they all dismounted and came in, as they said 
 to sample our whiskey. I immediately set before them the 
 best we had, which was considered a fair article for army use. 
 
 " But the captain, after imbibing, declared it to be very 
 thin and badly watered (a statement containing more truth 
 than poetry), and invited us to ride over to his corps where 
 we should be furnished with the ' simon pure ' article, which 
 we could water to suit ourselves. 
 
 " The invitation was at once accepted, as good whiskey 
 was very scarce at that time, and no opportunity was allowed 
 to pass unaccepted by those accustomed to the beverage, 
 
 " On arriving at his quarters a fresh barrel was tapped, a 
 measure drawn off, and the glasses filled. I noticed some- 
 'liiing peculiar in my glass, and while the captain was calling 
 attention to the fact that his whiskey was not watered, I ex- 
 tracted from the contents of the glass given me a little dead 
 fish about an inch in length, which had doubtless come from 
 the brook that flowed at the rear of the captain's commissary 
 tent, and holding it up to the gaze of all just as he concluded 
 his remarks, I asked* 
 
iS6 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 «' Do you suppose such a specimen as this to be contained 
 m all pure Bourbon from Kentucky, captain? ' 
 
 "The look of consternation that overspread his face 
 can better be imagined than described, and he never after 
 boasted the superior purity and strength of his whiskey over 
 i-.hat of others." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXVIl. 
 
 HOME ON A FURLOUGH A PREMONITION OF DEATH- 
 HOURS OF PERIL. 
 
 jjl^URLOUGHS," said one present, who had taken a very 
 vjl^ active part in the home end of the war, " reminds me of 
 '-^ an experience of John Curry, who came home in the 
 spring of 1864, I think, for a short rest. He had been gone 
 three years, in which time he became inured to the customs 
 of army hfe, and was indeed a splendid example of how a man 
 may change nearly his entire life, especially his every -day 
 habits and his health, simply by change of surroundings, — 
 provided these are at all favorable, and he "adapts himself to 
 them. 
 
 " Mr. Curry had been home only a few days when 1 called 
 to congratulate him on his safe return. His description of 
 camp-life and recollection of incidents then fresh in his 
 memory, seemed almost endless, but were none the less inter- 
 esting. I sat with my mouth and eyes open for two and a 
 half hours, or longer, and listened with all possible attention. 
 
 " I accepted a second invitation to come around again in the 
 afternoon, and was there promptly. 
 
 " The happy face of Mrs. Curry welcomed me at the door. 
 Her voice, I noticed, still had the accent of the Fatherland, as 
 she invited me in and told me that she did not like to arouse 
 her husband, who was then asleep and needed all the rest he 
 could get. She then entertained me by telling how different 
 her husband seemed 'since he vas in dzhe war,' particularly 
 as regarded his food. Pork and beans were very relishable 
 
 287 
 
288 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 
 
 to him now, but three years previous he could eat nothing but 
 the best of beefsteak; she said corn-meal cakes were better 
 than pastry, and coffee with cream and sugar in it was not fit 
 to drink, he thought. She hardly knew how to prepare any- 
 thing for his taste. He had undergone another radical change; 
 he would not sleep in a bed, but when the sunshine was warm 
 enough would take two rails, place them about a foot apart, 
 with one end of each resting on the yard fence and the othet- 
 ends on the ground, then lie down on the slant thus formed, 
 and sleep for two or three hours. He was now sleepmg on 
 the floor in the adjoining room, and she asked me to step 
 in and see how comfortable he looked. I did so, and indeed, 
 he was the personification of comfort. 
 
 " It recurred to my mind that if some of the chronic 
 growlers from general debility would shoulder a musket for 
 a few months, or engage in some similar occupation as trying 
 to the body, thereby creating the demand upon the stomach 
 for food, there would be less dyspepsia and grumbling, and 
 more health and happiness. 
 
 "'Schon! Schon!!' called Mrs. Curry, wit!h her usual 
 accent, now concluding that her husband had slept long 
 enough. But John did not awaken. The same deep, con- 
 tented breathings were still regularly drawn. 
 
 " ' Schon! Schon! ' she called again, but could not arouse 
 him. 
 
 " ' Let me show you how to wake him,' I suggested, at the 
 same time telling her that as he had not heard his first name 
 called for three years he had probably failed to recognise the 
 sound, especially when he was asleep. 
 
 " « All right,' she replied. 
 
 " ' To arms! ' I said sharply, and John bounded to his feet 
 so suddenly, with a motion of shouldering arms, that both of 
 us were startled. After comprehending the situation he 
 rubbed his nose and eyes, then, after a little explanation on 
 my part, we were again talking over old time experiences." 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 289 
 
 Mr. Bailey then gave this reminiscence ofa death presenti- 
 ment to a comrade at the battle of Fredericksburg: 
 
 *' It was the night before the battle that six of us, all of 
 Company H, stretched our weary limbs under the warm cover 
 of an A tent to get rest and strength for the struggle on the 
 morrow. The evening before had witnessed the close of the 
 bombardment of Fredericksburg, and the day had been occu- 
 pied by the crossing of the Union Army over the Rappahan- 
 nock, and the usual marches and counter marches requii^ite 
 to getting into position. Our army lay in the open plain 
 which intervened between the south bank of the river and the 
 range of mountains back of the city, both flanks resting on 
 the river, with the center pushed forward about a mile and a 
 half, forming an oval line three or four miles long. Our posi- 
 tion in the line was the right center of the left grand division, 
 commanded by Major-General Franklin. In the wooded 
 hills in front, blue with the smoke of camp-fires, lay the rebel 
 army in ominous silence watching our every movement, and 
 quietly waiting for the battle sure to come with the dawn of 
 another day. In our immediate front lay the corps of Stone- 
 wall Jackson, with whom we had measured strength on 
 several previous occasions, and with whom we were again to 
 dispute for the possession of the natural fortifications of which 
 they had taken advantage. The cavalry, artillery and mfantry 
 had been placed in position, and our patriotic commander, 
 General Burnside, had ridden along the whole line at the 
 close of the day to personally inspect the entire position. 
 Already the darkening shades of the clear, cool, December 
 night, was hushing into silence the two great armies, and the 
 twinkling stars vv^ere looking down upon the fatal plains so 
 soon to be filled with dead and mangled men. 
 
 " Our suppers had been finished, pipes smoked, tents pitched, 
 and we prepared for our last sleep before the battle. Our 
 gallant Captain Carle, a regular army soldier, had been 
 19 
 
2QO CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 wounded at second Bull Run ; was not yet fit for duty, though 
 he had accompanied us for the purpose of seeing- the battle ; 
 Lieutenant Pratt, recently married to a young and lovely girl, 
 had returned from a furlough home only a few weeks before,and 
 was temporarily in command of the company; Jack Gibney, 
 he whose skillful hands prepared the salt horse and coffee for 
 all hands; Jimmy Moore and Hobart Ripley, noble, generous 
 hearted boys as ever carried a musket, and the writer, lay 
 down that night together under the only A tent of which our 
 company could boast, and were soon wrapped in peaceful 
 slumber. And yet all did not sleep that night. About mid- 
 night I felt a pull at my elbow, and rousing up saw Lieutenant 
 Pratt bending over me, motioning for me to come out of the 
 tent without disturbing our sleeping comrades. We had been 
 warm friends and next door neighbors for years before enter- 
 ing the army, and I thought I had for some days detected a 
 shade of sadness in his countenance, and 'more than once had 
 found him engrossed in melancholy thought, but I had at- 
 tributed it to the fact that his mind was on the wife and friends 
 he had so recently left behind him. We walked out to the 
 dying embers of the fire and sat down for some moments 
 without speaking; he probably thinking whether or not it 
 would be better to tell what was on his mind, and I waiting 
 to hear. 
 
 " At last, with deep feeling, he said : 
 
 " 'F — , I have had a premonition of death. Six weeks ago, 
 while on my way from home, I stopped in Washington over 
 Sunday, and on Sunday evening attended church. When I 
 crossed the threshold of the church the gas lights dimmed, 
 and then recovered their usual brightness. The presentiment 
 came to me in a moment, that I should be killed in the next 
 battle, and I have not been able to overcome it since. I feel as 
 certain, as that you and 1 are here, that I shall be killed ^o- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAK. 29I 
 
 " I tried with the best argument I could to dissuade him 
 from the idea, and to show him the fallacy of tracing any con- 
 nection between a thing which he had so often seen and was 
 of such common occurrence in his own life. But argument 
 was useless, and he seemed as sure of his death as though it 
 were a positive certainty. I knew that he was morally and 
 jDhysically a brave man, and his deeply religious soul would 
 have rebelled against anything like superstition, so that his 
 feelings could not be attributed to cowardice, or a desire to 
 shirk the dangers before us; besides, he had been tried on 
 hard-fought fields, and proved true as steel. With him the 
 idea was a wrought conviction admitting no doubt, and I 
 pitied him from the bottom of my heart; though not a 
 believer in presentiments, I could not feel with him that his 
 death was a foregone conclusion. After an hour's conversa- 
 tion on the subject we again retired ; he to a sleepless prepara- 
 tion for the death of which he felt so sure, I to indulge in 
 selfish slumber. 
 
 " With the first breath of dawn we were aroused to eat a 
 hearty breakfast and fall into line. A dense fog covered the 
 whole plain, and we moved cautiously forward, unable to see 
 more than a few yards. Soon a skirmish line encountered 
 the rebel pickets, who promptly fell back after a few shots. 
 A halt was called, and our division, the old Pennsylvania 
 Reserves, received orders to unsling knapsacks, and we knew 
 we had been selected to make the charge on the left. Moving 
 forward we were placed in close column by brigades, in sup- 
 port of a battery, and ordered to lie down. The rising sun 
 soon cleared away the fog and revealed our line of battle face 
 to face with the enemy who were concealed in the woods 
 about 600 yards distant. Then the dogs of war were let loose, 
 and the several batteries along our line began to pay their re- 
 spects to the enemy, who answered the compliment with 
 vigoi. The solid shot from the enemy's right raked our lines 
 
292 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 from left to right, while spherical case, screeching through the 
 clear morning air from the front, exploded over our heads. 
 Our regiment, which lay in the front line, suffered very little, 
 but the regiment of new troops in our rear lost severely, in 
 one instance a solid shot sweeping seven men out of a single 
 company. The position was one of constant suspense to men 
 compelled to lie idle, waiting to see where the next shot would 
 strike. Activity, even in much greater peril, would have been 
 infinitely preferable. Through all this trying ordeal Pra'.t 
 kept his self-possession and strove only to do his duty, though 
 no one but myself knew the deep and silent agony he was 
 struggling to conceal. 
 
 " At last, to our relief, we were ordered to fix bayonets and 
 charge. Never did the gallant 6th keep a straighter line on 
 a dress parade than it did while charging across the6ooyar.lA 
 of open field which lay between us and the enemy. The rai - 
 road which ran along the skirt of the woods was the point :!t 
 which we were to stop, but finding the position untenable by 
 reason of a battery which swept the track, we entered the 
 woods and kept after the enemy, whose first line was broken 
 and now in full retreat, mowing a track the width of the di- 
 vision through the rebel lines. A lull occurring in the firing';', 
 Pratt again approached me, and leading the way a few pacc>. 
 to the rear, said, with a voice choking with emotion: 
 
 " ' I shall never leave these woods alive. I am going to 
 meet death here this afternoon. If you get out alive, I want 
 you to tell Jennie I was prepared for death, and that my la>t 
 thoughts were of duty to her, my country, and my God.' 
 
 " I was deeply impressed with his earnestness, and begged 
 him to go to the rear out of danger, but of no avail. He felt 
 he was going to die, and he would meet a soldier's death as a 
 soldier should. 
 
 " ' Forward,' came the order along the line, and with a 
 hasty 'Good-bye' and 'God bless you,' we sprang to our 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 293 
 
 places to encounter the rapidly forming lines of our encmy''s 
 fresh reinforcements. 
 
 " That was the last time I ever saw Pratt. The straggling 
 shots deepened into that loud, monotonous roll, and the stray 
 whiz of the minie ball changed into that storm of leaden hail 
 when sounds lose their individuaUty, denoting the desperate 
 nature of battle. A sharp twinge in m \^ shoulder gave me a 
 ticket to the rear, and I left the boys still pressing forward. 
 For five mortal hours the old Pennsylvania Reserves kept 
 their faces to the foe, unrelieved and unsupported, while 
 thousands of fresh troops were l3'ing in the rear behind 
 stacked arms. But it is useless to dilate upon the errors and 
 jealousies among generals, which lost that battle to the North 
 at the expense of 13,000 brave men, for the results at all points 
 of the line were alike disastrous. Night mercifully put an end 
 to the slaughter, and the lines were reformed near where we 
 started in the morning. 
 
 " With great anxiety I sought out our company, witl 
 several others who had been wounded, to learn how it ha<l 
 fared with the rest of the boys. Out of the six who had slept 
 together the night before, five went into the battle, twj of 
 whom were killed, and two wounded. Almost the las/ man 
 killed was poor Pratt, struck in the forehead with a minie 
 ball. He never spoke afterward, and the boys being hard 
 pressed, were reluctantly compelled to leave his body where 
 he fell. His presentiment was no idle tale. His prediction 
 proved as true as he felt it to be, and was carried out. in all its 
 terrible reality. With the flickering gas in the church at 
 Washington the light of his life went out in the fullness of the 
 undying fame due to the dead heroes of the war for the 
 Union. Among the serried hosts of immortal spirits which 
 are gathering in silent array on the battlements of heaven, he 
 rests with the coveted crown inscribed ' Faithful urito death.' *' 
 
 Immediately as the last speaker finished, George W. Scott 
 
294 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CiViL WAR. 
 
 of the Illinois, narrated the following, which brought so 
 
 vividly to the minds of his listeners the desperate ordeals of 
 the long ago that more than one present drew a long breath 
 and felt for the moment a sudden rush of the old feeling 
 when death stared every one in the face. 
 
 " It was at the battle of that we were ordered to 
 
 charge a line of the enemy's works. We were the third line 
 of battle. Just beyond a small stream lined with willows the 
 enemy were strongly entrenched, and heavily supported by 
 artillery. From where we lay, the ground, which was clear 
 and open, sloped gently to the stream, and the guns of the 
 enemy could be distinctly seen a few hundred yards on the 
 other side of the willows. 
 
 " The order was given, and the boys ahead of us gallantly 
 charged over the open ground and endeavored to pass the ob- 
 structions at the creek, formed by stakes and interlaced 
 willows. Immediately a sharp fire was poured into them 
 from the works beyond. 
 
 " The first line staggered and almost recoiled, when they 
 were hurried on by the second line w^iich cameup just behind 
 them. The fire from the enemy became hotter and hotter, 
 and men dropped on every side, but the impetus of the second 
 line carried them down into the creek, where partial shelter 
 was aflforded by the low bank. 
 
 " At this juncture the order was given to follow and charge 
 the works, and we started down the slope at double quick. 
 
 " The musketry and guns poured an avalanche of death 
 among us, and before we had gone over half the space the 
 ground was strewn with the wounded and the dead. It was 
 a terrible moment. The shells howled through our ranks, 
 and bursting overhead and upon the ground, filled the air 
 with flying fragments, which, with the bullets, made fearful 
 havoc. 
 
 "In less time than it takes to tell it, we had traversed the 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 295 
 
 open grouna and had reached the willows. We found these 
 a serious obstruction, and, in face of the terrible fire, they were 
 almost impassable. Our line was in confusion and nearly 
 demoralized, and as we were about to fall back, the order was 
 shouted, to lie down, and take shelter in the creek. 
 
 '' As we lay there with but half of our bodies protected, 
 the enemy increased their efforts to dislodge us by sending a 
 veritable hail of missiles. 
 
 " The minie balls and buckshot fell upon the ground in 
 an incessant shower. Cannon balls plowed up the ground 
 and begrimed us with earth, while above the air quivered 
 with the uninterrupted passage of lead and iron. From various 
 parts of our line where sufficient shelter was afforded, our boys 
 kept up as rapid a fire as possible, but from where I lay the 
 bank was so low that to raise an arm or head meant a wound 
 or certain death. The man who lay next to me ventured to 
 look at the enemy's works, when he was struck by a shot that 
 (jompletely severed his head from his body. 
 
 " In our struggle to capture the position our colors were 
 shot down three times. The last man who carried the flag 
 gained a position behind a tall stump, and three different times 
 the stump was struck by cannon balls and cut partly away. 
 It became too dangerous a place, and the brave fellow held up 
 the colors while he lay flat upon the ground. 
 
 " This situation of things remained the same until night 
 came on, when we were enabled to crawl down the bed of 
 the creek under cover of darkness. In the morning a flank 
 movement drove the enemy out of their works, and we occu- 
 pied the position." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXVIII. 
 
 DINNIS m'gINLEY as THE " SECRETARY OF WAR " MART 
 
 m'cOY and the general HOW THE I5TH CORPS CAME 
 
 BY ITS BADGE THE ROMANCE THAT A SPENT BALL 
 
 BROUGHT ABOUT HOW WHEELER's CAVALRY GOT SOME 
 
 CORN MEAL SENSATIONS UPON SEEING A COMRADE 
 
 KILLED BY A BULLET. 
 
 olfT is a well-known fact that the imaginative faculty is 
 M more active after night-fall than during the day, and that 
 ^ fire-liglit has the peculiar influence of stimulating memory. 
 The association of glowing embers and burning brands with 
 the unwritten history of " the late unpleasantness" is the cause 
 of these pages. The well-remembered appearance of the 
 hastily-made fire with the old familiar camp-kettle slung over 
 the blaze, instantly recalls a score of events which have 
 almost staggered out of sight down the aisle of the past. 
 
 It seemed to be so as the old-time soldiers gathered about 
 the crackling sticks this evening, for, with every snap of 
 some withering twig as it was consumed and slowly changed 
 into smoke and heat, some one present recollected a story. A 
 feeling of bonho7nic lent its cheer, and a spirit of jovial com- 
 panionship reigned in the circle. 
 
 An uproar of laughter in a group across from the medita- 
 tive scribe of the S. P. U. H. arrested the attention of all, and 
 it was immediately decreed that the cause of the hilarity 
 should be exposed for the edification of every one. It was 
 discovered that Capt. Fred. Maxwell., of the 3d N. Y. 
 
 296 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR, 297 
 
 Cavalry, had « spun a yarn," and accordingly he was invited 
 to repeat it. 
 
 " Well, boys, if I must, I must, I suppose, and I will nar- 
 rate one of the funniest incidents that I ever observed. The 
 long years that separate to-night from the days when we 
 followed the Stars and Stripes to ' the front ' have not dimmed 
 its humor for me, in the least. It occurred when we were 
 near Poolesville, Md. 
 
 " At ' retreat roll-call,' one day. Captain McNamara, a 
 son of the Emerald Isle, was the * officer of the day.' Ac- 
 cordingly he went to the ' guard house' to inspect the guard. 
 A member of Company F was one of their number, and 
 Captain McNamara knew him almost as well as he did him- 
 self. One by one the boys were inspected, and the member 
 from Company F came in turn. The captain found his 
 cartridge box minus ammunition, and in its stead numerous 
 letters. There were not forty rounds of powder and ball in 
 it, but dozens of letters. Instantly the captain's face assumed 
 the grim expression of outraged discipline. 
 
 "*Shtep three paces in fhront!' commanded the captain, 
 and the order was obeyed. 
 
 " The captain looked at him in a curious, questioning way, 
 and then went to the guilty soldier and scrutinized his 
 cartridge box with great care. Walking slowly around him, 
 he inspected every accoutrement zealously. Then, in a 
 severe tone, he asked: 
 
 "' An' phat moight be yer name?' 
 
 " ' Dinnis McGinley, sur! ' 
 
 " Again the captain went around the man and looked into 
 the misused cartridge box, and turning to its owner, he re- 
 peated : 
 
 " ' An' phat did ye say was yer name?' 
 
 " ' Dinnis McGInle}^, sur! ' 
 
 "Pointing at the letters, the captain ejaculated upon the 
 
298 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 heels of the reply to his question, with an astonishing look 
 of surprise: 
 
 " ' By me sowl, oi thought ye was the Secretary of 
 War!'" 
 
 As the merriment subsided somewhat, Lieut. S. M. 
 Witt, of the loth Indiana, followed with these remarks: 
 
 " We had a droll kind of a character in our regiment by 
 the name of Mart McCoy, who had formed the habit of say- 
 ing, on all occasions, both appropriate and inappropriate, 
 'Halt! d— n you, halt!' 
 
 " We had just been mustered in at Camp Morton, In- 
 dianapolis, Ind., and were about as green a set of recruits as 
 any rendezvous had the fortune, or misfortune, to see during 
 the war. Our captain had been an old Mexican soldier, and 
 we thought that he was the only one in camp who knew any- 
 thing about tactics, and it was currently believed that we 
 were not obliged to obey any officer but our leader. Captain 
 Kice. 
 
 " We were sent to Rich Mountain, and soon were 
 marched to where we had work to perform, and were treated 
 to our first experience under fire. 
 
 " We had been ordered to lie down, and in order to escape 
 the bullets, we had taken shelter behind the brow of a hill. 
 
 " While lying upon the ground. General R happened 
 
 to pass along the line, and ordered firing to cease. Mart 
 McCoy was lying upon his back holding his gun in a per- 
 pendicular position, muzzle upward, and was inadvertently 
 playing with the lock of the weapon. Just as the general 
 was passing by, McCoy's piece Was accidentally discharged, 
 and so near the general that the report startled him. ' 
 
 " As soon as the general recovered himself, he clutched 
 McCoy by the collar, administered a forcible reproof for the 
 apparent violation of orders, in the way of shaking him and 
 asking, in a severe manner, if he meant to obey the com- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 299 
 
 mands of his officers. As the shaking process was going on, 
 McCoy was ever and anon the recipient of several not very 
 gentle applications of boot leather. Yet, notwithstanding 
 the rough handling he was receiving, McCoy managed to 
 gasp out: 
 
 "'Halt! d— you, halt!' 
 
 " The general loosened his hold and looked at McCoy in 
 astonishment. McCoy, realizing that, for his manner of ad- 
 dressing a superior officer, he was liable to punishment, im- 
 mediately vanished down the hill, followed by the guffaws of 
 his comrades." 
 
 It will be remembered that certain army corps were 
 designated by different badges, such as stars, acorns, etc., etc., 
 and Capt. H. B. Reed, of the 129th Illinois, said the way that 
 the 15th Corps of Sherman's army came by its badge occurred 
 in this wise: 
 
 " One night some of the boys had built a log fire, and 
 were enjoying its genial warmth, when they were joined 
 by an Irish soldier. He was hailed by: 
 
 "'Hello! Where are ye from? What corps do ye be- 
 long to, Paddy, and what's yer badge?' 
 
 "'Me badge?' 
 
 '" Yes— what's yer badge?' 
 
 " ' Me badge, did ye say ?' 
 
 "'Yes, d — you; what kind of a badge does yer corps 
 wear?' 
 
 "' Arrah, ye insultin' blackgarruds, oi belong to the 15th 
 Corps,' and turning around and showing his cartridge box, 
 'an' this, wid 100 rounds, is me badge!' 
 
 " The incident was reported to headquarters, and as the 
 15th Corps had not received its badge. General Logan de- 
 clared that a cartridge box with the number '100' upon it 
 should designate them, and the order was carried into effect." 
 
 Among the myriad of incidents which happened daily 
 
300 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 along the lines, many of which are stranger than the mar- 
 velous events traced upon pages of fiction, one told by Oscar 
 F. Avery, corporal in the nth Michigan, seems like a portion 
 of a play upon the stage wherein the finale is made to come 
 out just right for the hero. 
 
 Corporal Avery said : " It was at the battle of Stone 
 River, early in the morning, that our regiment was lined up 
 at right angles with the main line, and while standing in this 
 position a comrade at my side, by the name of Robert 
 Thomas, was struck just above the eye by a spent ball. He 
 sank to the ground, and several of us placed him in as com- 
 fortable a position as possible, and were ministering to him the 
 best we could under the circumstances, when we were 
 ordered to form a part of the main line. This took us away 
 from the prostrate form of Thomas, who lay beside a tree, 
 apparently breathing his last breath. 
 
 " After the second day's battle I was detailed to look after 
 our wounded. I searched for my comrade, Thomas, but 
 could find no trace of him. We supposed that he had died, 
 and been buried by the rebels. 
 
 " Nearly a year afterward, in 1863, while we were march- 
 ing across to Bridgeport, with our line of battle extending 
 a distance of thirty-two miles, who should rush out of the 
 bushes and into the arms of the boys of his own company, 
 but Robert Thomas! 
 
 " He told us his history from the day of the battle of 
 Stone River, and we learned that he was taken prisoner 
 while lying under the tree where we had left him. He laid 
 in a hospital for nine months, and after recovering suffi- 
 ciently so as to be able to move about, he took an opportunity 
 to board a train with one of two regiments who were being 
 transferred, and by saying that he belonged to the regiment 
 just ahead, he arrived at the front, and, taking French leave • 
 of his train, he slipped through the pickets, stumbled upon 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 30I 
 
 US, and fell in with his old company, after being gone almost 
 a year, and not naving seen during that time a Union 
 soldier, nor the Stars and Stripes." 
 
 Captain Reed asked if we had heard how he ground corn 
 all night for some of Wheeler's rebel cavalry. 
 
 We responded in the negative, and when about to insist 
 upon having the particulars of the incident related, a member 
 of the captain's company, who helped do the grinding, said: 
 
 " Captain, tell the boys about our grinding that corn for 
 Wheeler's cavalry! " 
 
 " Well," said the captain, " I was in command of a 
 foraging party during our ' March to the Sea,' and one after- 
 noon it happened that we came across an old corn mill. We 
 concluded to gather some corn from the surrounding barns 
 and grind it. We collected a large quantity, and in a little 
 while had the old mill doing its best. Having no sacks, we 
 took dresses and skirts that we found in a deserted dwelling, 
 and by tying up the ends of them, soon had a goodly num- 
 ber v-»f serviceable sacks. 
 
 " We kept the old mill going till toward morning, and 
 had about finished our job. We had slung some of our im- 
 provised sacks across the backs of our mules, and were 
 engaged in filling others and preparing for departure, when 
 our pickets rushed in and reported rebel cavalry coming 
 down the road. 
 
 " We rushed to our guns, but before we could use them, a 
 volley from the enemy's carbines rattled through the mill, 
 and a chorus of yells stampeded our mules. 
 
 " In less time than it can be told, our little party had scat- 
 tered, and our mules were flying in all directions. Some of 
 them strewed meal over the fields for miles, and the way 
 feminine apparel was distributed was ludicrous to behold. 
 
 " The early morning air was filled with meal, shots, 
 curses, brays, flying petticoats and yells. Confusion reigned 
 supreme, and bedlam was outrivaled. 
 
302 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 " It is needless to say that we made ourselves scarce, and 
 with the exception of two or three who were captured, we 
 gained our camp in safety. We had lost our corn meal, but 
 we thought ourselves lucky to have escaped being taken 
 prisoners and sent to Andersonville." 
 
 Probably thousands of readers will remember their feelings 
 upon seeing, for the first time, a comrade struck lifeless. 
 Such sensations are always remembered, and the impressions 
 then received are invariably carried to the grave. Powerful 
 as such events were in causing emotion, their rapid and 
 familiar occurrence dulled their horror, and lessened their 
 repulsiveness. The dread and sickening loathing created by 
 many a corpse on a battlefield, is by familiarity and constant 
 view transformed into a stoical indifference. Were this not so, 
 the awful carnage of some battles would have made deserters 
 of thousands of soldiers. 
 
 Sergt. J. H. Goff, of the 129th Illinois, told the effect 
 of seeing a soldier shot dead, and said: 
 
 " It was at the battle of Resaca, Ga., that I beheld, for 
 the first time, the death of a soldier by a gun-shot. He was 
 standing about twenty feet in front of me in the next line of 
 battle, and just as I happened to glance at him he was struck 
 in the neck by a musket ball. He let fall his gun and 
 dropped, turning toward me as he fell, and as he did so, by a 
 convulsive movement of the muscles of his throat his tongue 
 was forced out of his mouth to its utmost extent. 
 
 " A sickening shudder involuntarily passed over me at the 
 fearful sight. A feeling of great sympathy and pity welled 
 up in my heart for the poor fellow, and I longed to go to him 
 and take him in my arms, minister to his wants, and seek to 
 ease his pain. My attention was then attracted to the enemy 
 by their rapid fire and by the humming of their bullets above 
 us, and as I realized that it was by one of their bullets that 
 the poor boy in front of me had met his death, a savage desire 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 303 
 
 for revenge and retaliation drowned out the finer emotions 
 which had just filled my breast, and I was eager to put my 
 desire into execution. I clutched my gun with firm fingers, 
 and with every muscle steady, and every nerve calm, my 
 whole mind was concentrated in my determination to avenge 
 the death of the man who lay upon the ground cold in death. 
 In a few minutes I found myself loading and firing as rapidly 
 as possible, and during the subsequent movements of the 
 regiment I forgot, for the time, the death of the soldier." 
 
 The recital of Sergeant Goflf caused the faces of all to 
 assume lines of gravity and sadness, and it was plainly ap- 
 parent that this incident had awakened in the minds of each 
 memory of war's most horrible phases, and an oppressive 
 silence pervaded the camp. 
 
 It was some time before the usual flow of good-natured 
 spirits resumed its course, and after several more stories the 
 motion to adjourn was decided to be in order, and ere long 
 the camp-fire was a smoldering heap of ashes. 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXIX. 
 
 THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CAPTURE OF THE GUERILLA 
 
 CHIEFTAIN, JOHN MORGAN AUDACIOUS AUDACITY 
 
 THE LAST PLANK OF THE SHIP OF STATE. 
 
 fG. BIRCHFIELD,of the 13th Tennessee cavalry, said: 
 " There have been several letters published claiming 
 ^ to describe Morgan's death, but I have never yet seen 
 one which came anywhere near the truth of the affair. I was 
 one of those who, when the shadow of war darkened the en- 
 tire land, lived in the Sunny South; but having been raised by 
 one of those truly loyal men, one who loved his whole coun- 
 try, and whose father had fought at King's Mountain, and, 
 moreover, being in that truly patriotic section of Southeast 
 Tennessee, whose loyal sons fought on every battle-field, I 
 could not be otherwise than true to my country in that sad 
 hour. So I have had my share of the hardships and fun, and 
 the incident to which I refer was one of the perilous ones. 
 
 " It was in Greenville, Penn., Sept, 4, 1864. We had 
 been encamped at Bull's Gap, sixteen or eighteen miles west 
 of there, for four or five days, and about midnight on the 
 third we were aroused and ordered to saddle up. It was pitch 
 dark, and the lightning played around the clouds as we 
 marched out east of the gap and across the country southeast, 
 until we struck the old Newport road. Then we turned east 
 toward Greenville, when the rain began to fall in torrents. 
 When within two miles of Greenville, just before daybreak, 
 we learned that the Confederate pickets were posted in an old 
 house one mile ahead. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 305 
 
 « Colonel Ingerton ordered two companies to the right 
 through the woods and fields. They got between the re- 
 serve pickets and town, and the rest of the regiments closed 
 in on them. We took them without a shot, and then 
 marched to within about three-fourths of a mile of Greenville, 
 when Colonel Ingerton ordered Company G to take the road 
 toward town. Captain Wilcox commanded the company. 
 The rest of the regiment were formed in line across Blue 
 Spring road, facing the west. 
 
 *' Captain Wilcox marched up the top of a hill to the 
 west of town, and into the main street, and halted ; then rode 
 forward to where he could see from end to end of the main 
 street, and it seemed to me, in the gray of the morning, that 
 the street was alive with men. The Johnnies getting in late 
 the night before, had camped in the street, and on the rising 
 ground to the east. Captain Wilcox ordered the company 
 to ' Forward march i Trot! Charge! ' and in an instant we 
 were among the Johnnies, some of whom were still wrapped 
 in the embrace of Morpheus on the sidewalk. When they 
 were roused by the yells and firing, they left hats, guns, 
 blankets, horses and all, and jumped over fences, darted 
 through doorways, and into stores, and around buildings; and 
 in fact, there was general confusion, forty-four boys in blue 
 being mixed up with one or two thousand Johnnies who 
 were running in every direction. We did not even stop to 
 take prisoners of those who wouid throw up their hands, but 
 dashed through the main street to within one or two hundred 
 yards of their battery, which we could see was making ready 
 to give us a welcome, Lieut. John M. Wilcox, John Turner 
 and Sol. Turner, John Humphrey and eight or ten others 
 made a dash for the battery, which fired one shot. This from 
 bad range or some other cause, struck a church; but the boys 
 went for those guns and drove the rebels away, and captured 
 them 5 biit since they could not remove them, they left the 
 
30f^ CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 guns and joined the company in town, where we were em- 
 ployed in picking up Johnnies. 
 
 " I rode up to the hotel, where I was acquainted with Mrs. 
 Col. David Fry, the noted bridge-burner and Union scout. 
 She was standing on the porch. I said, ' Good-morning, Aunt 
 Catherine.' She was very much excited and replied, ' Gen- 
 eral Morgan is in that brick house at the rear, and you must 
 take him.' I galloped to where Captain Wilcox was stand- 
 ing near the church east of the hotel, and told him of the 
 vicinity of General Morgan. There were fifteen or twenty 
 men with Wilcox. He ordered them to surround the block, 
 which they did. In a very short time Andrew Campbell 
 went to the west side of the block, near a stable that stood 
 north of the hotel that Mrs. Fry occupied. Captain Wilcox 
 ordered John M. Wilcox and myself to go into the grounds 
 in the rear, and east of the old church on Main street, passing 
 north toward the brick house that Mrs. Fry designated to us. 
 When we had gone about half-way, we passed by an out- 
 house, which stood on the southeast corner of the lot or. 
 which the house of Mrs. Williams was situated. John H. 
 Morgan had made his quarters there the night before. As 
 we passed this, two officers, Johnson and Clay, I think, we:e 
 their names, came to the door, threw up their hands, and said 
 they would surrender; but just then we saw a man start 
 from behind the building in his shirt sleeves and bareheaded, 
 and run toward the brick house on the north side of the 
 block; so we did not stop to take the two, but hurried up to 
 catch the other fellow, as we saw that some of our boys were 
 ]' ust behind us. 
 
 " We passed by the side of a grape arbor twenty-five or 
 I hirty feet, and through it to the east side, where we could 
 still see Morgan pushing toward the house. We got between 
 him and the house, and ordered him to surrender, which he 
 refused to do, and fired. The ball passed very near Lieuten- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 307 
 
 ant Wilcox and myself. We were about twenty or thirty 
 feet from where he stood. He then turned and passed 
 through a bunch of grapevines, and snapped his revolvers at 
 us again. 
 
 "Just at this time I saw Andrew Campbell tide out from 
 behind the stable and fire. Lieutenant Wilcox and myselt 
 both yelled at Campbell not to shoot, for Morgan was right 
 in line between us and Campbell. Morgan turned and went 
 five or six paces toward Campbell, when Campbell dis- 
 mounted, and was taking deliberate aim, when Morgan 
 wheeled and faced Wilcox and myself with his pistol raised. 
 Campbell fired his second shot, which took effect just below 
 the left shoulder-blade, and passed through his body, and out 
 below his left nipple. Morgan threw up his hand and ex- 
 claimed, ' Oh God!' and fell dead without a groan. We then 
 placed his body on Campbell's horse, and he carried it about 
 one mile west of Greenville, where we met General Gillam. 
 Campbell said, 'General, here is the old Kentucky horse- 
 thief, I guess he won't get away this time.' " 
 
 A witness of the following audacity then told this: 
 "About the boldest thing I ever saw done was an achieve- 
 ment by Dan Ellis, a famous pilot and scout, who before the 
 close of the war succeeded in piloting over 13,000 men in 
 squads of from one to three hundred in one direction or an- 
 other, through the mountains of East Tennessee. He had 
 been trained in the vocation from his boyhood, learning his 
 wit by hard knocks and from the rough teachings of experi- 
 ence rather than from book larnin', yet a little, or even a 
 great deal of the said ' larnin' ' would not have injured him 
 materially, since he could neither read nor write, though he 
 was as eloquent and as fluent a talker as could have been 
 found in that part of the country. His reputation as a suc- 
 cessful guide was well-known throughout the whole State, 
 and when the Johnnies heard that Dan was leading a column, 
 
3o8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 extra eifort was made to head him off, though, in the nature 
 of things, they rarely heard of him, for, figuratively, he 
 stepped lightly and filled up his tracks. 
 
 "But even with him everything did not always slip 
 smoothly. He was captured at least once to my certain 
 knowledge. It was in October, 1861, just after the burning 
 of the Union bridge, near Holstein. The operations in that 
 vicinity for a few days previous attracted some attention from 
 the Johnnies, and before we knew it, the Confederate Col- 
 onel Leadbetter, with one thousand infantry, escorted by a 
 battalion of two hundred cavalry, were down upon forty of 
 us with Dan Ellis at the head. They caught us in a tight 
 place, almost unawares, and we simply and quietly surrend- 
 ered. It was a part of Dan's policy, he said, to surrender 
 like a fellow confessing his guilt on the gallows, when we 
 were caught in a trap, since that would tend to make the 
 enemy more merciful toward us, and continued gentle sub- 
 mission would throw them off their guard. So we went on 
 with our captors almost as well as if we had been a part of 
 them, until we arrived at Taylor's Ford. 
 
 " Leadbetter turned us over to Major McClelland to take 
 to Elizabethton and put into jail until further orders; but 
 when we arrived at the Ford, Dan concluded that he had gone 
 far enough with his Confederate escort, so he at once began 
 to carry out a plan for escape which he had by that time ma- 
 tured in his own mind. Riding up to a house near the road, 
 his guard following close by his side, he leaned over the 
 picket fence and called out for a cup of water. The lady 
 within was not long in coming to the fence with it, and then 
 the fun commenced. 
 
 " The woman held up the cup of water to him, and Dan 
 held out his hand to receive it, at the same time calling out 
 loudly to the guard who was with him, as though he were 
 startled : 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 309 
 
 "' Look! look! See that Yank and Johnnie back there,' 
 pointing to the rear. 
 
 " ' Where? ' asked the guard. 
 
 " * Way back — half a mile,' continued Dan. 
 
 " The guard looked long and steady, but saw nothing. 
 Meantime, instead of taking the cup of water from the lady, 
 Dan placed his hand on the fence, leaped over, and was sev- 
 eral rods across the field before the guard discovered him. 
 The guard was so fully absorbed in looking for the Johnny 
 and Yank to whom Dan had so kindly called his attention, 
 that he did not hear Dan say: 
 
 " ' Drat my buttons, if that wa'n't a pretty narrer jump, 
 an' it hurt my hand,' as he jumped the fence; and, indeed, the 
 first thing that called the guard's attention to the fact that 
 Dan was leaving the country, was the shooting from the 
 other guards, which soon numbered a hundred or more shots. 
 But the bullets were too slow, and Dan was soon out of their- 
 range. He was at this time on the crest of a low hill, and 
 turned and saluted the Johnnies, who fired another volley at 
 him, which closed the adventure. It was of no use to pursue 
 since he had the advantage on any footman of at least sixty 
 rods, and the fences and hedges were such that a horse could 
 not be used, so that Dan Ellis escaped after all. 
 
 "In this connection, with almost these same circumstances, 
 there occurred another incident which shows what mother 
 wit can do for a fellow sometimes, and which I will relate 
 with the permission of the camp-fire." 
 
 « We will refer that to the S. P. U. H.," said the com- 
 mander. It was accordingly referred, and the society replied 
 that they had always disliked the principle of usurpation in 
 history, but asked that the comrade be allowed to tell his story 
 on this occasion, so he continued; 
 
 "Just previous to the capture of Ellis and the rest of us, 
 while we were preparing ourselves for business at the front. 
 
3IO CAMP-FIRE CHATS OP THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 an incident occurred, the sequel to which was unique. 
 Elizabethton, Tennessee, if I remember correctly, was the 
 home of Congressman N. G. Taylor. At any rate, he made 
 a ringing speech there while an enrolling officer for the 
 Union army at that place, and grew eloquent in the cause 
 which had sent him to Congress twice. He said that the 
 Union was still strong, but needed to be still stronger; that 
 the flag still waved over hearts that would remain loyal to the 
 end; that all who considered themselves men would remain 
 under the folds of the national ensign, and permit no strange 
 banner to appear in our skies; that he, for one, would hang 
 to the ship of state until the last plank, sundered from the 
 others, would float out upon the ocean of anarchy, and then 
 he would still be on that flank ! 
 
 " This brought the cheers from the audience, and the en- 
 rolling proceeded rapidly, so that it was only about two weeks 
 after, when a company of a hundred or more of us encamped 
 at Doe River Cove. 
 
 " We had been there about a week, and some of the boys 
 began to be impatient because there was no fighting or any- 
 thing else to do. Soldiering seemed to be rather dry business, 
 and gradually homesickness, thus early, and even a desire to 
 repudiate their oaths, began to possess the boys. 
 
 " Taylor staid among them, and all the while cheered 
 and exhorted them to remain loyal. But finally the climax 
 was reached. It now appeared that the practical part of war 
 had never dawned upon the minds of the boys, and when it 
 was rumored through the camp that the long-looked-for 
 enemy were actually coming, and that there would in all 
 probability be a battle, there was a general dropping of 
 countenances. Captain Gourley, with a small force, was sent 
 out to reconnoiter, and before long he sent back a messenger, 
 who announced that the advance of Colonel Leadbetter's Con- 
 federate brigade had been met and vanquished with due prompt- 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 31I 
 
 ness; the messenger also bringing a request for moie men 
 to assist Captain Gourley. The whole camp was accord- 
 ingly ordered into line of battle at once. Every volunteer 
 toed the mark, but just as they did so, a screech was heard off 
 to the left, and soon there came through the bushes a man on 
 horseback, with his face bloody, swinging a sword in one 
 hand and a butcher's knife in the other, crying at the top of 
 his voice: 
 
 "'Run, (hie) boys! Run! They're cominM' the crier 
 Deing one of those mis-made men whose idea of chivalry 
 or knighthood, and especially modern soldiery, was that the 
 first act is to get * gloriously drunk.' The first act having 
 been completed, it did not take long for the drunken m.an to 
 imagine that the whole Confederate army was upo7i him^ 
 and, having fallen from his horse several times, the knocks 
 and bruises therefrom bled freely, and soon gave him the ap- 
 pearance of having been just where he reported himself to 
 have been. The young soldiers who beheld him in this condi- 
 tion were at that time just in the proper state of mind to 
 take fright at anything like war, so that they did not need a 
 second warning for each to betake himself to some hiding- 
 place near. Within five minutes from the first warning 
 sounded by the drunken soldier (?), the original line of battle 
 could not be distinguished from a light gust of wind, so 
 shadowy and absent were the previously brave soldiers. 
 
 " No one could be seen except Congressman Taylor and 
 Captain Boyd. They saw the last of their following secrete 
 himself, and then saw the drunken man fall from the horse 
 with that certain thud which gave strong evidence that he 
 would lie there some time before regaining his consciousness. 
 Then Congressman Taylor said to Captain Boyd: 
 
 " * Well, captain, there may be something in it, after all,' 
 referring to the sudden disappearance of the soldiers from 
 the supposed enemy. * We had better be on the safe side, at 
 
312 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 any rate, and I think the safe side is the side of this embank- 
 ment right here.' So saying, the congressman and the cap- 
 tain stepped down the bank, and when they were well 
 hid, Congressman Taylor sadly reflected aloud: 
 
 " ' Ah, captain, the last plank of the ship of state is now 
 out upon the anarchical billows of rebellion, but I am still 
 on it.' 
 
 " Sure enough, before many hours, the Confederates un- 
 der Colonel Leadbetter came, and they picked up most of 
 those who had formed the line of battle earlier, the Confed- 
 erates having captured the reconnoitering party under Captain 
 Gourley, who could not stay their advance under such great 
 odds. 
 
 " After hunting out the line of battle from the various 
 nooks and corners, and capturing its members, the Johnnies 
 finally found Congressman Taylor and Captain Boyd, who 
 surrendered without much hesitation. All the captives were 
 taken to Elizabethton and jailed. The last plank of the 
 ship of state now appeared to be getting the worst of it — to 
 be sinking, and dragging the congressman down with it. He 
 was in a sorry fit. The enemy would have no mercy for 
 him who had incited so many to take up arms against them 
 only a short month before. He sought the advice of his 
 brother-in-law. I believe it was he who told him that the best 
 thing he could now do would be to confess his guilt, and make 
 a speech in behalf of the Confederacy. This he concluded 
 to do, and when he was brought up to take the oath of 
 allegiance to the Confederacy, he seized the opportunity and 
 made a rousing speech, closing with the following ambigu- 
 ous words: 
 
 " * Yes, dear friends, the ship of state has gone to pieces, 
 and the last plank has floated out into the Confederacy, and 
 I here solemnly declare that I am upon that plank.' The as- 
 sertion received applause, aiitl was accepted as an oath of 
 
turn still staid under him for ! ^ ^ ' '"^ 'he pla„k ;„ 
 to a third term as a rewar^'or^eS!" "" '^ "^^ ^'-'^'^ 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXX. 
 
 A MULE driver's PECULIARITIES FORAGERS MAJOR 
 
 COLLINS* NEGRO BOY, FRACTION THE SAD STORY OF 
 
 AN UNKNOWN MICHIGAN SOLDIER. 
 
 [[OMRADES, listen, while I tell you about a mule- 
 W\ driver of the Twenty-sixth Illinois," spoke up one of 
 the boys. 
 
 " Frequently private soldiers became widely known in the 
 army for some peculiar characteristic, but perhaps few were 
 more so than the one I am about to describe. He was about 
 six and a half feet high, long, lank and angular, with an un- 
 gainly, swaggering kind of gait, though when astride a mule 
 he was at home. He was generally known as ' Stackpole,' the 
 mule driver of the 26th Illinois. He always had a good team, 
 and if he lost a mule he could soon pick up another, since he 
 did not concern himself as to where the mules belonged, if he 
 wanted them. In tlie fall of 1864 '^^ ^^^^ ** ^P^^ from Gen- 
 eral Schofield's headquarters team, and shaved, cropped and 
 painted them, till the driver passed them on the road a few 
 liours afterward, hunting his stolen mules, but never dream- 
 ing they were before him. 
 
 "This same driver had an undying thirst for good com- 
 missary whiskey, and when the roads were in the most fear- 
 ful condition, and teams balked and floundered in the mud 
 till it almost seemed nothing would ever again induce the 
 mules to pull a pound, if only the quartermaster would send 
 tor ' Stackpole ' and promise him a pint of good whiskey, 
 the balkiest team would soon be pulling for dear life, lie 
 
3l6 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 would vault into the saddle, straighten up the leaders, touch 
 up every mule in the team, and when all were alert and 
 ready, it really seemed he could make his whip play round 
 like a streak, of lightning, hitting all at once; then he would 
 halloo till you could hear him for miles, not omitting of 
 course the traditionary * cuss words,' and things would go, 
 however deep the mud might be. 
 
 " Starting loads recalls the 'March to the Sea' with Sher- 
 man, and through the Carolinas in the winter of 1865, which 
 developed many expert foragers, and the enormous loads that 
 some soldiers could carry into camp would astonish people in 
 civil life. But the improvised carts and conveyances would 
 also make them open their eyes. It was a common thing to 
 see mules and horses led in loaded down with provender, 
 but to see a nice family carriage driven in, with the elegantly 
 cushioned and costly upholstered seats piled full of bacon or 
 pickled side meat, was not at all unusual. 
 
 "At Lynch's Creek in South Carolina, owing to high 
 water, crossing was delayed several days, and the sparsely 
 settled country was soon stripped of almost everything eat- 
 able, until finally nothing remained to live upon but a scant 
 supply of ear corn, which was rendered palatable by being 
 parched. Officers had to watch their horses while they were 
 eating, to prevent the famishing men from stealing all their 
 corn. After crossing, the foragers struck out to collect food, 
 and when they returned about 2 o'clock in the morning, 
 the men got up, cooked, ate, and sat round the camp-fires, 
 singing and making merry, apparently as happy and con- 
 tented as if in the midst of plenty." 
 
 James Houghton, of Plymouth, Indiana, a member of 
 the 29th Indiana, then took the floor. 
 
 "At Stone River, on the afternoon of December 30, 1862, 
 the regiment was ordered to move up and take a position for 
 the fight on the morrow. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 317 
 
 " Major Collins, of that regiment, had a negro servant 
 whom the boys, for some unaccountable reason, had nick- 
 named ' Fraction.' While being placed in position, Fraction 
 espied a mulatto boy passing to the rear with an old fash- 
 ioned *horse pistol ' in his possession. A sudden idea seemed 
 to strike the servant, and he yelled, ' Wha' yer gwine wid 
 dat shootin' iron?' The boy answered, * Gwine to de reah, 
 to take car' the ' Gunnel's boss.' ' Fraction ' then said, 'Jess 
 ban' dat shootin' iron ober to me,' and the boy, like a true 
 soldier, quickly obeyed the order of his * superior '( ?). «Frac- 
 tion' then followed along till the regiment was placed in 
 position, borrowing ammunition from several of the soldiers. 
 When the fight commenced the following morning, he disap- 
 peared very suddenly, and not turning up at nightfall, nor 
 the next day, the regiment came to the conclusion that he had 
 been killed or taken prisoner. 
 
 " On the third day, while a bevy of regimental and com- 
 pany officers were seated under a tree, cracking and eating 
 nuts that had been shaken off during the previous day's en- 
 gagement, one of the officers descried ' Fraction ' coming 
 toward them. He was immediately assailed by a volley of 
 questions as to his late whereabouts, and after much taunt- 
 ing and more coaxing, seated himself, and assuming a very 
 important manner, gave the following account with the 
 utmost gravity: 
 
 "' Well, gemmen, when dat fightin' commenced, and de 
 boys 'gan to drap like dey was hurt, an' de rebs 'gin run- 
 nin tow'd us purty fas', I jess 'eluded dat I could run faster 
 dan dem. I jess got dat boss pistol all ready, and away 
 I went. Purty soon I he'rd somebody ridin' arter me, and 
 when I looked 'roun', I tell you dat my legs trim bled, for I 
 seed one ob dem rebel boss offica'hs comin' like de berry debil. 
 I didn't stop to take aim, but jess histed dat gun over my left 
 shouldah, and pinted it in thed'rection of dat man, and pulled 
 
3l8 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 de' triggah, an' I'll bet a possum' dat I killed dat fellah, but 
 I didn't stop, no sah! I jess kep' on runnin', and when de 
 bullets 'gan to go whiz-z-z-z, and de big shot sing whir-r-r-r, 
 I jess dodged to one side, an' lay down in de fiel' wha' I bin 
 eber since! You don' catch dis chile foolin' wid dem rebs 
 any mo', — no sah, — de bullets cum too clus, an' 'sturb my 
 appytite!' " 
 
 « As a contrast to the anecdote just given, I offer a tribute 
 to the memory of a brave Michigan boy who gave his life to 
 his country," said Isaac N. Phillips, corporal of Company 
 A, 47th Illinois Infantry, i6th Army Corps: 
 
 " We had been for ten or twelve days lying in the trenches 
 in front of the frowning batteries of old Spanish Fort, one of 
 the defences of the city of Mobile. About the fort proper 
 were breastworks inclosing a large extent of land, with 
 several smaller forts having mounted batteries. The 
 13th Army Corps lay upon the left of the i6th to 
 which I belonged. I, with a large number from our brigade, 
 was doing detail duty as a sharp-shooter up in the saps near 
 the rebel works. The main line of the corps lay several 
 hundred yards in our rear. The fighting had been done 
 principally with artillery, and, day by day, as the siege pro- 
 gressed, and the tremendous siege-guns were put in place back 
 on the main line, the cannonade upon the Union side grew 
 more terrible and deadly. The leaden rain poured into the 
 port-holes of the forts by the vigilant sharp-shooters (whose 
 well-directed bullets made it almost impossible to man the 
 rebel guns), with the still more terrible fire from the bat- 
 teries, and the ponderous shells from the mortars far back of 
 the main line in the woods, made the situation of the 'John- 
 nies ' precarious in the extreme. 
 
 *' Those great mortar shells! Who that has ever heard 
 the sound of their journey through the sky can ever forget it! 
 When night settled down, and the cannonade would cease, 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 319 
 
 the stillness semed unearthly, because of the contrast, no 
 doubt, between that and the great turmoil and noise of the 
 day; and this stillness was only broken by an occasional 
 musket shot, or by the firing from the immense mortars in 
 the rear. A dull, heavy report, followed by silence, was all 
 that indicated the starting out of a thousand-pounder on its 
 mission. Looking intently in the direction of the battery, 
 some comrade would exclaim: ' There it goes!' and where 
 his finger pointed would be seen slowly climbing the sky 
 what appeared to be a little waving torch. Listening in- 
 tently we could hear tlie hissing sou:id of the burning fuse as 
 the immense shell turned over and over in its progress. 
 ' Wsh-wsh-wsh-wsh ' — nearer and nearer it came, making a 
 slow, majestic progress up and over the blue dome of the 
 sky, until, with almost miraculous precision, it dropped into 
 the fort just in our front; and the fuse, which had entertained 
 us with its little harmless pyrotechnics, during the long 
 aerial voyage, never forgot to do its fatal work just as the 
 shell came down. It would seem almost two minutes from 
 the firing of the mortar to the explosion of the shell — min- 
 utes of dreadful suspense to those inside the doomed fort. It 
 was a rare accident for one of the shells to miss its mark, or 
 fail to explode at the proper second of time to make its 
 mission effective. 
 
 " But it is not of bomb-shells alone that I am to tell you. 
 One night the news came along the line of sharp-shooters 
 that the rebels were thought to be evacuating the fort. It 
 was between midnight and morning. We were not positive 
 of the correctness of our information; but we were not long 
 in verifying it. Pell-mell we ran, in the wildest disorder, 
 over the trunks of fallen pines and among the rifle-pits 
 skirting the rebel breastworks, scampering recklessly over 
 ground, which, \vild rumors of buried torpedoes and infernal 
 machines had, only a few hours before, made us view with 
 profound reverence and awe. 
 
320 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 "Sure enough, the rebels had left the works. We picked 
 up a good many stragglers in the timber of the inclosure 
 skirting the bay; and a few of us crept down in the dawning 
 morning light to the water's edge where, under cover of the 
 trees, we could see the last boat-load of rebels embarking 
 from a little island some three or four hundred yards off the 
 main land, which island was connected with the shore by a 
 plank bridge wide enough for two men to walk upon it 
 abreast. The water was shallow. The rebels had passed 
 over this plank bridge, and as we lay near the shoreward end, 
 two men dressed in butternut clothes came running back over 
 the bridge toward us. We supposed them to be rebels, but as 
 they carried no guns did not fire upon them. When they came 
 near we called to them to halt, which they failed to do. One 
 of them raised his hand, in which was a short stick and said, 
 *You are the men we want to see.' One of our party, noted 
 for rashness and haste, mistaking the stick in the hand of the 
 supposed rebel for a pistol, fired and instantly killed one of 
 the two. The survivor called out that he was a Union pris- 
 oner making his escape, and begged us not to lire again; and 
 then he told us a story that touched my heart with a feeling 
 I never experienced in war before. 
 
 "He and his companion had been long in rebel prisons. 
 They had been taken to Spanish Fort to work on breast- 
 works, preferring hard labor to the festering efinui and filth 
 of a prison pen. They had first met at the fort, only a few 
 days before. The survivor did not know more than the giv- 
 en name of his dead comrade, and that I have now forgotten. 
 He belonged to a Michigan regiment, — had been several 
 months a prisoner; all else was unknown. The two had 
 taken advantage of the confusion in embarking, to steal away 
 and make their escape. Just at the moment when his heart 
 was beating high — when he supposed himself to be emerging 
 from the jaws of death and the mouth of hell, as it were, the 
 poor Michigan boy had been shot by his friends. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 322 
 
 " He was tall and handsome, and not exceeding twenty- 
 years of age. His fine features and cleanly person and habit 
 spoke him one of a good family, and probably city bred. We 
 searched his clothes, hoping to find his name or some address 
 to which we could write and tell the sad story of his death, 
 but none could be found. We made him a grave 'by the sound- 
 ing sea,' under the shade of the cypress trees, and there he 
 sleeps unknown to the multitude; but not, I trust, 'unhon- 
 ored and unsung.' 
 
 "Lee and Johnston had already surrendered, but we did 
 not know it. Doubtless his people — perhaps his mother — 
 knew he was a prisoner, and at that moment her heart was 
 beating with high hope at the great news of Union success 
 which was soon to bring her boy to her arms. How she 
 must have watched and waited and listened for the footsteps 
 that never came! How she must have scanned the news of 
 the returning prisoners whom peace had released from bond- 
 age; and who knows but she may still be searching for the 
 name of her lost boy upon the headstones of the many popu- 
 lous prison graveyards! But no power less than that which 
 shall reassemble all the dead, can ever bring to that Michigan 
 mother the sad news of her lost boy; and then let us hope 
 jts great sadness may be turned into a still greater joy, for he 
 |;'ave his life for his country as much as though he had fallen 
 •'bile scaling rebel ramparts, bearing his country's flag." 
 
CAMP FIEE XXXI. 
 
 The Son's of Vetekaks — Okigin and Principles of the 
 Order — No Politics Permitted in the Organiza- 
 tion — Friendship, Charity and Loyalty — Major 
 A. P. Davis, the Founder — Gen. AValter S. 
 Payne, Commander-in-Chief — 50,000 Sons of Sol- 
 diers — Usefulness of the Order and its Value 
 TO the Country — The Ladies' Aid Societies of 
 the Sons of Veterans. 
 
 LOYAL valor and its deeds in defense of the Union and 
 liberty, are sacredly enshrined in the hearts of Colum- 
 bians millions. No lapse of time can efface the profound 
 admiration and growing gratitude of a rescued and happy 
 people. The veteran soldiers are everywhere welcomed and 
 honored as, through the blessing of Providence, the success- 
 ful saviors not alone of the best government on earth, but 
 also of freedom to mankind. Every city, village and town is 
 proud of her resident heroes. What may be supposed, then, 
 to be the sentiments of the families of these old soldiers ? 
 How will the boys feel with a knowledge of fathers' deeds 
 that the whole world admires and pronounces unequaled? 
 Can they help being proud of the honor of being sons of such 
 sires? Can they do anything collectively, as well as individ- 
 ually, to prove themselves worthy descendants of those heroes ? 
 Is it in their power to be of service to the country ? 
 
 These and similar noble thoughts, burned in many manly 
 minds for upwards of fifteen years before there came to pub- 
 lic notice that splendid organization — the coming patriotic 
 power in our land — the Sons of Veterans, U. S. A. 
 
 At the close of the war the sons of soldiers were young 
 
 323 
 
Gen. Walter S. Payne. 
 Coinmandei-iu-Chief of the Sons of Veterans, U. S. A. 
 
CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 623 
 
 boys, for all of them who could stand on tip-toe and appear 
 large enough for military service, had rushed to the front. 
 Their inexperience would not be competent to plan an associ- 
 ation which should reach throughout the whole land. Com- 
 rades of the Grand Army of the Republic came, however, to 
 their aid, and after abundant consideration with the young 
 men themselves, forwarded in November, 1881, to the Com- 
 monwealth of Pennsylvania, an application for a charter for the 
 Sons of Veterans. This was promptly granted, and the 
 worthy organization appropriately presented to the nation. 
 
 To Major A. P. Davis, a prominent comrade of the G. A. 
 E., of Pittsburgh, Pa., belongs the honor as founder* of the 
 Sons of Veterans, an honor of which any man may be rapt- 
 urously proud, and that will increase during the continuance 
 of the Republic. 
 
 The order fastens in the memory of millions a series of 
 brilliant war-deeds, many of them sad and bloody. But those 
 deeds were done for the best human result, viz. : that of in- 
 suring freedom to mankind. The Son of a Veteran perpetu- 
 ates the noble aims of the country^s heroes, as well as their 
 matchless valor and sacrifice. The very name of his order is 
 an inspiration to loyal hearts. Nor is he nurturing war bit- 
 terness, for the magnanimous victors astonished humanity 
 when, after conquering resistance, they closed the war by ex- 
 tending such forgiveness as human history has never known. 
 
 The cost of maintaining a young men's organization is no 
 greater for this noble object than for the many that are far 
 less worthy. Let this take the place of flimsy associations 
 for fleeting pleasure ; this which furnishes the highest human 
 inspiration to manly vigor and useful lives ; to heroic chiv- 
 alry and valorous nerve. And a unity of aim can be secured 
 in this compact of sons of gallant men that is unattainable 
 elsewhere. Partially new is the scope of this society, as well 
 as the illustrious belongings that crown it with glory ; but it 
 
324 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAK. 
 
 is built on an underlying principle of priceless worth to man- 
 kind — that of American valor, American energy, American 
 sacrifice ; in fine, American manhood, the highest type, be- 
 cause the product of freedom. 
 
 The glory of a nation is its young men. Let the sons of 
 the preservers of oar Union hold worthily the same love of 
 country, and they form a splendid phalanx of blessing. None 
 can be more brilliant, none more talented, none more power- 
 ful, none more noble than the keen American youth whose 
 fathers have bequeathed tliem a ceaseless inspiration. The 
 founders of the Sons of Veterans build ed better than they 
 knew, for they launched an institution that should foster 
 ■energetic manhood, chivalry, self-sacrifice and vigilance. An 
 association raised above the bickerings and pelf of politics — 
 that should ignore differences of belief on all other subjects 
 than that of their unfaltering loyalty, and of strong, honorable 
 manhood in its behalf. For all know that American loyalty 
 is the safeguard of freedom to mankind. When, therefore, 
 the boys, in connection with necessary pursuits in lifers use- 
 fulness, attend also to their calling as Sons of Veterans, they 
 are marching as chivalrous knights of nerve and strength, 
 "bringing blessing to the race. 
 
 There have been several societies started, one of them as 
 early as 1879. All, however, have been merged into this 
 grand body, and to-day the Sons of Veterans, IT. S. A., 
 extend from Maine to California, and from Minnesota to 
 Florida, being found in thirty States, four Territories and 
 the District of Columbia. 
 
 The components of the Order are — 
 
 1st. Local Organizations, known as Camps ; 2d, State 
 Organizations, known as Divisions. 3d. The National 
 Organization, known as the Commandery-in-Chief. 
 
 The Order is military in its character and ceremonial work, 
 and is officered in accordance with army regulations. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 325 
 
 Principles : A firm belief and trust in Almighty God, 
 and a recognition of His beneficent guidance in the preser- 
 vation of the life and integrity of the Nation. 
 
 True allegiance to the Government of the United States of 
 America, a respect for and fidelity to its Constitution and 
 Laws, and opposition to any system or power that in any 
 manner tends to impair the efficiency and permanency of our 
 National Union. 
 
 Membership : The sons, not less then eighteen years of 
 age, of deceased or honorably discharged soldiers, sailors or 
 marines, who served in the Union army or navy, during the 
 civil war of 1861-5, and sons of members of the Order not 
 less than twenty-one years of age, are eligible to membership. 
 
 The Constitution provides that Posts may select five com- 
 rades of the G. A. R., as an advisory committee to assist the 
 Sons in their work, and in the management of affairs. They 
 are given certificates of honorary life membership in our 
 Order. All members of the G. A. R. are privileged to visit 
 any Camp, and may remain during the entire ceremony. 
 We always give them a cordial welcome. 
 
 ^^ We have builded upon the firm foundations of Friend- 
 ship, Charity and Loyalty, and aim to make our work practi- 
 cal by devoting our best energies to the Avelfare and happi- 
 npss of the men who fought and bled that we might enjoy 
 life, liberty, and pursuits of happiness in a land of freedom,, 
 where equal rights and equal justice are guaranteed to all. 
 
 " The ' Boys of "61-^65,' are one by one crossing the pon- 
 toon bridge to the other shore, joining their comrades who 
 have 'gone before.^ In a few years the ranks will be 
 thinned by the ' Great Reaper,^ and but a remnant of the 
 nation's defenders — who upheld our flag from the shadow of 
 Sumter to the sunlight of Appomattox, will be left. Who 
 will take their places to preserve the principles for which they 
 fought? Who are better fitted for this work than their sons? 
 
 \ 
 
o'Zyj CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Who appreciate the true value of their services better than 
 we ? We ought to have a Camp in every community where 
 there is a Post of the G. A. R., and in five years we ought to 
 have 250,000 members. Like the G. A. R., the Order of 
 Sons of Veterans is not a political organization. It is not our 
 j)rovince or work to have anything to do with sectarianism in 
 religion or partizanship in politics. 
 
 The Sons of Veterans have been fortunate in presiding 
 officers. The first Commander-in-Chief was Gen. Frank P. 
 Merrill, of Auburn, Me. He was succeeded by Gen. H. W. 
 Arnold, of Johnstown, Pa., now of Denver, Col. Following 
 him came Cn'n. Walter S. Payne, of Fostoria, Ohio, who was 
 unanimously re-elected and is the present Commander. His 
 services to the order can hardly be over-estimated. He rem- 
 edied the business difficulties and financial depression, intro- 
 duced thorough system into the books, blanks, records and 
 inspections of the whole force, succeeded in inducing the 
 other associations of Sons of Veterans to join the main body, 
 infused new life and ambition into all the members, so that 
 very great gains resulted even in his first year of command. 
 He lifted the organization so that it began to secure a hearty 
 regard from the G. A. R. and the public at large. 
 
 General Payne is a prominent comrade of the G. A. R. 
 He enlisted in Company D, Fourth Wisconsin Infantry, 
 April 19, 1861, and was made First Lieutenant before he left 
 the State. He was provost marshal at Relay House, Md., 
 during summer and fall of 1861. He was promoted to be 
 Adjutant of his regiment, then to Captain's rank. 
 
 He served under Generals Butler and Banks in the De- 
 partment of the Gulf with great honor. He was appointed 
 Assistant Adjutant General on the staff of Gen. Thomas 
 Williams and afterwards with Gen. H. E. Paine. At Don- 
 aldsonville, where he commanded two companies on the right 
 of his brigade, he was flanked on both sides by the Rebels. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 327 
 
 He held his position till the twenty-six pieces of artillery 
 were pulled off the field. He then marched his command 
 back in good order and rallied the rest of the brigade. He 
 was incapacitated for a year and a half from active service by 
 ill health, and was then commissioned a Colonel in General 
 Hancock's Veteran Corps. He is now a successful business 
 man in Fostoria, Ohio. 
 
 ^' Captain! how large a force does Gen. Fayne command?" 
 
 '^ Fifty thousand Sons of Veterans ; and the number 
 increasing with great rapidity." 
 
 ^' What would you say about their usefulness and value to 
 the country?" 
 
 ^'1 would say strongly that this brilliant union of the 
 best elements of young manhood for upholding the flag 
 and elevating humanity, serves the nation in a matchless way. 
 And the simple fact that these scores of thousands of earnest 
 men, brave by birthright, are supplied with military knowl- 
 edge and discipline, conveys a sense of security to the loyal 
 millions that has value beyond all price. They are a vade- 
 mecum of safety and comfort. The old veterans are dropping 
 away ; but when their numbers can be more than filled by 
 heroic sons, let not the timid take counsel of fear. The 
 example to the world is ennobling for this immense organiza- 
 tion to maintain such a mighty tribute to American valor, and 
 to hold extended so many hands and purses for the relief of 
 the needy soldiers and their dependent ones. When, with 
 earnest, manly strength, aided by lovely woman, they honor 
 the departed heroes ; not alone with the choicest flowers on 
 Memorial Day but by constant incense of gratitude ; they 
 are lifting the thoughts of humanity to something better 
 than self or mere financial accretion. 
 
 And woman is aiding them. The mothers, wives and sisters 
 of the Sons of Veterans organized in June, 1884, at Danville, 
 Pa., the Ladies Aid Society of the Sons of Veterans, Miss 
 
328 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Estella Baus was chosen the first President. Her successor 
 was Miss Laura F. Martin of Lancaster, Pa., who was unan- 
 imously re-elected and is the present efficient National Presi- 
 dent of the order. Her efforts have been very great and suc- 
 cessful in advancing this charming association. Her admin- 
 istration has, from a handful of societies two years ago in 
 Pennsylvania, with about two hundred members, extended 
 the order into fifteen States, with a membership of nearly 
 two thousand. 
 
 The Ladies Aid Societies have been warmly endorsed by 
 vote of the Commadery-in- Chief ; also in General Orders by 
 Gen. Payne and Division Commanders ; by Camps and by 
 prominent men in the order. The homage of commemorat- 
 ing and honoring deeds of courage and chivalry has always, 
 the world over, been best graced by woman's sympathy and 
 love. Let her pure devotion sanctify the ennobling realm 
 the Sons of Veterans are privileged to hold. Practically they 
 have proved of great assistance. Their good works furnish 
 the reason of the rapid increase of their societies. They draw 
 ^membership, like the ladies of the G. A. E., from mothers, 
 wives and daughters of veteran soldiers and sailors ; to which 
 they add the wives and daughters of Sons of Veterans. A 
 glorious career is before them. 
 
 The Sons of Veterans are giving great attention to mili- 
 tary drill. Sometimes they are mustered into the State 
 militia. At St. Paul, Minn., the drill of Camp No. 1. is 
 hardly equaled in the United States. 
 
 There are several Sons of Veterans' newspapers, supported 
 by the order ; the National Reveille, Chicago, the Camj? Fire, 
 Portsmouth, Ohio, and the Boy in Blue, Grand Eapids, Midi. 
 Capt. Gerry, of the G. A. E. Comrade, Chicago, has a Sons 
 of Veterans page. Also the Veteran Advocate, Concord, N. H. , 
 the Veterans Review, Indianapolis, the Grand Advocate, Des 
 Moines, Iowa, and the Arsenel, Minneapolis. 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXIl. 
 
 S MEN PERSONATE UNION OFFICERS A 
 
 SUCCESSFUL MILITARY MANEUVER^— CHARACTER MAIN- 
 TAINED NOTWITHSTANDING THE DEMORALIZING IN- 
 FLUENCES OF ARMY LIFE. 
 
 MEMBER of Mosby's band in the East appeared be- 
 fore this camp-fire and desired to relate an adventure 
 *,5P« which occurred within the Federal lines. He was per- 
 mitted, and spoke: 
 
 " After the winter's campaign in the mountains our band 
 settled down for a time in the beginning of March, and dur- 
 ing the latter part of that month the boys spent their time in 
 individual and private enterprises. 
 
 " Mosby could trust his men. They were all devotedly 
 attached to him, and were therefore allowed all the liberty 
 they wished. They would organize private excursions into 
 the enemy's country. By private excursions are meant those 
 in which two or three of the boys would, without advice or 
 attention from any officer, put their heads together, and lay 
 plans for adventures within the territory of the enemy. 
 
 " One of these escapades is too good to be longer unre- 
 corded. Sam Underwood was known among the boys as a 
 mischievous, prank-playing, quick-witted, dare-devil-sort-of-a- 
 fellow, not without a high sense of honor. He had been 
 educated at the University of Virginia, and had both the 
 culture and the powers of mind to have made a high mark in 
 the world, but alas ! like thousands, of others he had no 
 tenacity of purpose, and when the war l>roke out the life of a 
 
 33^^ 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 33 1 
 
 partisan was too enchanting for him. After that he couid 
 not hold himself to any one thing long enough to achieve 
 substantial results. But he was a fountain of humor, and his 
 place under Mosby was just suited to his tastes — a freedom 
 from responsibility, with all the liberty he wanted. 
 
 " He disclosed one of his plans to Bowie, and together 
 they started to work it out. 
 
 " They found themselves after a day's and night's travel 
 so far inside the Union picket lines that their identity was 
 never suspected. They were loud-mouthed Union soldiers. 
 They had ciothed themselves in the captured garments of the 
 officers who had been taken at the Dranesville fight. Mosby 
 had possessed himself of certain papers which had thoroughly 
 posted him in the names and numbers of the regiments of the 
 enemy. These papers were captured with the Dranesville 
 officers, and after Mosby had used all he wanted from them 
 they fell into the hands of Underwood. 
 
 " The two daring guerillas were at least forty miles inside 
 the Union lines, and stopping in one of the strongest neigh- 
 borhoods of Shenandoah Valley, shook themselves in humor- 
 ous gratification at having avoided suspicion. They gave 
 out that they were quietly engaged in procuring information 
 for the government at Washington as to how the soldiers of 
 its armies were behaving themselves in Virginia. Their fa- 
 miliarity with all the operations of the Federal forces, the 
 names of well-known officers, their commands and subordi- 
 nates, begot confidence at once. They were secret agents, 
 and this they gave out as the reason they did not stop in the 
 towns — they could get more reliable information at a little 
 distance, where their mission would not be suspected by the 
 armv. 
 
 " They had been in the neighborhood but three days 
 when they received an invitation to a party to be held at the 
 house of Daniel Maxwell, a celebrated Unionist of that coun- 
 
 b 
 
332 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 try. The Maxwells held first place in the social ranks, and 
 were really a cultured family. It consisted of Mr. Maxwell 
 and wife, one son sixteen years of age, and two daughters, 
 respectively eighteen and twenty years. They were indeed 
 young ladies of intelligence and refinement, and finished edu- 
 cation, having graduated at the head of their class in one of 
 the most distinguished colleges of the North. And they 
 were as heautiful as they were cultured. Indeed, they were 
 renowned for their beauty, and for the exquisite grace of their 
 demeanor. 
 
 " Into this family Underwood and Bowie had right of 
 entree. To confess the exact truth, as they afterward said 
 when giving an account of the party, an ' eerie ' sensation 
 crept through their hearts as the evening of the party ap- 
 proached. They had rather stand in the face of a whole 
 Yankee battalion than before the flashing batteries of those 
 two beautiful girls. But there was no help for it. Underwood 
 was every way qualified to move in any circle, but Bowie was a 
 novice in the aflfairs of the drawing room and parlor. Under- 
 wood, however, after giving him a few lessons in etiquette, in- 
 structed him to be sure and not talk, or try to do so, on subjects 
 he did not understand. 'I'll do most of the talking,' said Un- 
 derwood. 'They'll expect us naturally to be quiet about our 
 business, and if we let things run their own way they'll come 
 out all right; and then we'll tell the boys, when we %^\. back 
 to camp, how we played it on 'em;' and he chuckled 
 again. 
 
 " About 9 o'clock they mounted and rode up to the 
 Maxwell mansion. The parlors and drawing rooms, cloak 
 and hat room, were all brilliantly lighted. Most of the guests 
 had already arrived. A couple of colored servants in livery 
 stood at the gate to show them in, and they were at once 
 ushered into the cloak room, where they divested themselves 
 of their superfluous wraps, gave a few touches to their hair, 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR 333 
 
 a few whisks of the brush to their clothes, and were conduct- 
 ed down the broad stairway to the entrance of the drawing- 
 room. They handed their cards to the servant who, with an 
 overwhelming bow handed them to one of the Misses Max- 
 well who stood at the door to receive. 
 
 "Underwood gave no description of the lady's dress, but 
 in answer to a question concerning it, replied : *No one would 
 ever think of her dress, who looked at her eyes. She welcomed 
 us with a cordiality that made one forget he was a stranger. 
 She took my arm first, led me to her mother and introduced me. 
 She left me in care of her mother, who immediately intro- 
 duced me to her husband. Then poor Bowie had to go forward, 
 but he sustained the ordeal well — he couldn't do otherwise 
 with so charming a companion. As soon as it was proper 
 we were presented to the several members of the party, ladies 
 and gentlemen. 
 
 " ' But,' said Underwood, « I surrendered. The only 
 Yank" to whom I would ever yield was that charming Evelyn 
 Maxwell. Bowie and I were made heroes. Every attention 
 was paid us. Bowie was looked upon as a dignified, quiet 
 gentleman of distinguished ability, and I had to pass as a sort 
 of chatterer. But so goes the world. Bowie's silence, with 
 an unruffled manner to maintain it, gave him much char- 
 acter. 
 
 " * The hours passed away as swift as merry chimes of 
 Christmas. Supper was announced. And such a supper as 
 it was! Think of it! — roast turkey with cranberry sauce and 
 celery of home raising, moist and tender; roast beef and mut- 
 ton, with vegetables to suit. Then the cake, wine, pastry, 
 and relishes of a dozen varieties — Oh! oh! But didn't Bowie 
 wade in! I was afraid his appetite would make him lose his 
 brains. Never dignified man ate as he did. I was afraid that 
 in satisfying the keen demands of his stomach he would lay 
 himself open to the suspicion of being a "hungry rebel." 
 
334 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL. WAR. 
 
 " ' But to our consternation what should occur at this hap- 
 py hour but the entrance of a Union officer who seemed to 
 be at home in the house. The supper was ended, and the 
 gentlemen were lingering over their cigars and wine. We 
 were at once presented to him. He questioned us politely as 
 to our command, inquiring into details a little too closely for 
 comfort. Bowie shot a glance at me which the officer caught. 
 I could see that suspicion was created. I tried with abandon and 
 story-telling to efface it. I found afterward that we had made 
 one fatal omission in our plans. We had given ourselves the 
 character of two officers of Maine regiments located in the 
 very line of the Confederacy, and we had forgotten that 
 Maine men do not use the Southern "twang" in their pronun- 
 ciation of words. 
 
 "'Here we were — Yanks talking in Southern dialect! 
 This was what struck the Union officer. I felt certain that 
 we should not be interfered with rashly, nor until after the 
 party was broken up for the night. I gave Bowie a signal, 
 communicated to him my suspicions, and we arranged to leave 
 a little before the accustomed hour of departure. We effected 
 our purpose quietly. Under the pressure of sudden news we 
 aroused our host and hostess and expressed our regrets that 
 we must cut short our pleasant hours. We bade them good- 
 evening. 
 
 " * Our horses were pawing at the gate, and the darkeys 
 were patiently holding them. We were accompanied to the 
 door by Miss Evelyn Maxwell, and,' said Underwood, * as 
 we were passing along the hall I determined to kiss those 
 beautiful lips if I died for it. 
 
 " * Bowie had passed out of the door, hat in hand, await- 
 ing the close of the few words of good-bye. Miss Eveljm 
 followed me out on the portico with warm invitations to 
 return at any time. 
 
 " * Suddenly I put my arm around her drew her to me, 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 335 
 
 kissed her lips, and bounded away. Her sudden scream 
 alarmed the house. In an instant I was mounted and with a 
 dash of the spur our horses leaped off at a fearful pace. I did 
 not say a word, only led the way. 
 
 «^"What the d— 1 is the matter?"' shouted Bowie. 
 '" What did you do to the girl? Hold up, man!" 
 
 " ' On I went. I had done a dastardly thing, but I'll swear 
 by all the virtues of Diana I didn't mean to. 
 
 " ' Soon we heard the sharp clatter of hoofs behind, and 
 knew v/e were pursued. But we gave them the slip. We 
 rode out into the brush till they passed. We recognized the 
 Union officer with a following of eight or ten men. 
 
 " ' We rode all that night and lay in the shadows all next 
 day, and finally came into camp after an absence of ten 
 days. 
 
 "'I have never been within one hundred miles of that 
 neighborhood since,' continued Underwood, 'and I live in 
 mortal fear lest I might at some unexpected moment run 
 across that woman. But I'll swear to the last I couldn't help 
 it. And if she could know that it was not meant for rude- 
 ness, but was the impulse of a romantic feeling as a tribute to 
 her beauty, I do not believe — sensible girl that she is — it 
 would be very difficult to make atonement.' " 
 
 One of General Sherman's admirers then asked to be 
 heard for a brief time, and related the following: 
 
 "In that desperate battle on the 22d of July, 1864, 
 when General McPherson fell, the Army of the Tennessee 
 was on the east side of Atlanta, but in a day or two they 
 withdrew from that position, and, marching in rear of the 
 Army of the Cumberland, formed on the extreme right of 
 the army, and there on the 28th of July fought the bloody 
 battle known as Ezra Church, where the rebel troops re- 
 peatedly assaulted them before they had time to entrench 
 themselves, but were in every instance repulsed with great 
 
336 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 slaughter. For nearly a month after this the contest was one 
 of outposts rather than great battles. The Union lines were 
 steadily advanced, while in many places, as we afterward 
 learned by actual measurement, there were less than sixty 
 feet between the fortified picket posts, and a continual firing 
 both night and day was kept up. The soldiers went 
 to their posts under cover of the night, and had to remain 
 close on the trenches all day, for if a head was shown but a 
 moment, it was sure to draw a shot from the enemy. 
 
 " On August 36, General Sherman, in pursuance of a 
 previously conceived plan, withdrew his whole army in order 
 to make the flank movement below Atlanta and strike the rail- 
 road at Jonesboro and other places, for the purpose of cut- 
 ting off their supplies. 
 
 " To prevent the rebels discovermg this movement in 
 time to attack, it was necessary to maintain the picket line 
 for several hours after the army had left, and this duty was 
 assigned to Col. Ira J. Bloomfield, of the 26th Illinois, with 
 about 400 picked men from the 15th and 17th Corps. The 
 troops began moving shortly after dark, and by 10 o'clock 
 they were all in motion. The noise caused by the artillery 
 and heavy ammunition wagons aroused the enemy, and 
 several times they made a heavy assault upon the picket 
 lines; but the men held their places with great bravery. 
 About I o'clock some of the men, conscious that all hope 
 of succor was miles away, and oppressed by the intense dark- 
 ness of the night, and the ominous silence of the deserted 
 camp where a few hours before all was bustle and confusion, 
 and knowing full well that if a determined attack should be 
 made, they must all be killed or captured, became alarmed, 
 and it required the utmost exertion of the officers to hold 
 them steady. But, after holding the lines until nearly 3 
 o'clock, they withdrew so quietly that the rebels continued 
 firing at our picket posts, and did not discover our absence 
 until daylight next morning. 
 
I 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 337 
 
 " Before closing," said the last speaker, « I wish to call 
 your attention to some effects of army life on character, and 
 how these effects were ove rcome by the counter influences of 
 peace and civilization. 
 
 " In glowing periods Lord Macaulay describes the facility 
 with which Cromwell's soldiers gave up the profession of 
 arms and devoted themselves to avocations of civil life, so 
 that they were noted for their diligence, sobriety and pros- 
 perity; but never in the history of the world has such a 
 mighty army been suddenly disbanded as in the spring of 
 1865 at the close of the rebellion; yet men accustomed for 
 years to live by foraging, or taking by force whatever they 
 needed or desired, quietly sank back into the ranks of civil 
 life, and soon became distinguished for their energy, in- 
 tegrity and success in business, and no less so for their fidelity 
 and zeal in support of the civil government of the country. 
 
 " Among thousands of instances that might be cited I will 
 refer to a boy who enlisted as a private when between seven- 
 teen and eighteen years of age, from Tazewell county, Illi- 
 nois. He was a mere stripling, slight of build, but rather 
 tall. The hardships and exposure incident to the winter, 
 campaign under General Pope, around New Madrid and 
 Island No. lo, in March, 1S62, gave him the camp diarrhoea. 
 His appetite failed, and his captain, thinking he would die if 
 kept in the ranks, gave him permission to remain with the 
 company wagon for two or three months, by which means 
 he recovered his health, rejoined his company, and proved a 
 faithful soldier, though he became an inveterate gambler. 
 Whenever off duty he could be found playing poker or some 
 other game for money, and such was his nerve and self-control 
 that, though he lost or won hundreds of dollars, nothing 
 more could be told of his feelings by looking at his face than 
 at a board. His winnings, in time, became large, and he sent 
 home several thousand dollars; and on the march from 
 
338 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Atlanta to the sea he won until his bundle of bank bills be- 
 came so large he had to carry it in a rubber blanket. He, of 
 course, at other times, had great losses ; but when the army 
 started north through the Carolinas, Jan. 31, 1865, he was 
 left at Port Royal Inlet (because his time was out), nine 
 miles from any Union troops, with over three thousand dol- 
 lars about his person. He bade his comrades good-bye 
 because refused permission to go along with them, went back 
 to the coast, was mustered out of service, and came home by 
 the way of New York. He invested all his money in land, 
 and began farming and dealing in grain and cattle in his 
 native county. He sold out all his property in Illinois a 
 few years ago, went to Nebraska, entered some land and 
 bought other tracts adjoining, located at the county seat, and 
 is to-day worth a large amount of money; but above all, is a 
 respected and exemplary citizen. This, however, should be 
 said of him, that when he left the army he entirely abandoned 
 gambling, and he most faithfully kept his resolution then 
 formed, to do so. He is everywhere noted for his iiktegrity, 
 and iiis word once given is to him a bond." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXIII. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF THE BATTLE OF CORINTH A BRAVE 
 
 BOY IN GRAY THE OLD CANTEEN. 
 
 J' can tell some facts," said Mr. J. W. Evarts, " of a de- 
 |n tachment from the 15th Illinois Cavalry, "which I 
 ^ have never yet seen in print. They came under my 
 direct observa<-ion, and will be recognized as true by many a 
 comrade. 
 
 " I was with Stanley and Rosecrans at the battle of Cor- 
 mth, which lasted three days, the heaviest fighting being done 
 on the 4th of October, 1862. On the evening of the 3d, near 
 sunset, Rosecrans left me to watch a road two miles west of 
 the town, on which the rebels were expected to approach in 
 force, and invest the place that night. Price had sent Rose- 
 crans word that ' he would take dinner the next day at the 
 Tishemingo hotel, or in h — 1 ! ' I rode a fleet horse, and 
 planted myself behind a large tree on the north and south 
 road, at the junction of the road leading eastward into Cor- 
 inth. Our entire army had gone into camp behind the forts 
 and earthworks. I was probably the only Union soldier out- 
 side of our lines. A half hour's watching, and I saw a dust 
 rising up the road to the north. A moment later, and a long 
 column of rebels were in full view; in the scattering timber 
 for some distance the rebel skirmishers were deployed, and ap- 
 proaching in line. I waited motionless till I could identify 
 the personages riding in front, the descriptions answering for 
 Generals Van Dorn and Lyttle. On reaching within fifty 
 yards, realizing my safety had reached its limitation, I put 
 
 339 
 
340 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 spurs to my horse and darted toward Corinth under a shower 
 of bullets. Reaching the tent of General Rosecrans, I made 
 my report, and the battle of the next day verified the identity 
 of tnose rebel commanders. 
 
 « The most tragic scene of the battle of Corinth was the 
 charge on Fort Williams by the ' Rebel Forlorn Hope,' in 
 which four hundred volunteered under Colonel Rodgers to 
 capture the fort or die in the undertaking. The fight com- 
 menced at daybreak, and had raged hot till about noon, with 
 terrible slaughter on both sides. Our troops numbered 27,- 
 000, and an area of five or six square miles around Corinth 
 was thoroughly fortified, and long-range guns were so planted 
 as to rake the rebel columns lengthwise wherever they 
 formed. A deep ravine, stretching along the west of town, 
 was covered with fallen trees, making a tangled abattis so 
 great that it was difiicult to cross; but the rebel legions 
 climbed from limb to limb over tree-tops, and jumped from 
 log to log across a dangerous bayou, all under a raking fire of 
 musketry and artillery, many dropping dead or wounded 
 among the brush ; and to the number of several thousand they 
 charged through line after line of our bristling bayonets and 
 the slashing sabers of three thousand of our cavalry, reaching 
 their goal, the Tishemingo hotel. Our cavalry rallied in 
 force, and charged them back; but their onslaught grew more 
 desperate, and they repeated the charge the second time, and 
 were a second time routed, retreating over a thousand acres 
 strewn with the dead and wounded of both armies. This 
 weakened the spirit of the rebel commanders, and they called 
 for the fated four hundred to capture our greatest stronghold. 
 Fort Williams, whose guns were pouring a steady stream of 
 destruction into their decimated ranks. It was but a moment 
 after Colonel Rodgers responded to lead, that the four hun- 
 dred daring men were in line, and at a little after noon they 
 ruwhed like mad demons upon the fort, crossing the ditch and 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 34I 
 
 scaling the walls, as i^ by superhuman dexterity. Many were 
 killed at the first charge by the hundreds of rifles that were 
 blazing at them from every direction. The charge was re- 
 peated with more dauntless heroism, if possible, than before, 
 and the rebel flag was no sooner raised than its brave bearer 
 fell, a corpse. One by one this heroic band fell dead in the 
 ditch or in the parapet, when, last of all. Colonel Rodgers 
 himself grasped the broken and shivered standard, waved it 
 above his head, shouted victory, and the next moment he, too, 
 fell, pierced through the heart. Perhaps there was never a 
 more exciting scene in the annals of modern warfare. Those 
 who witnessed that terrible charge, could not feel any but the 
 deepest admiration for such unparalleled bravery. 
 
 " Colonel Rodgers was probably the largest man engaged 
 in the war on either side, standing six feet and seven inches, 
 grandly proportioned, and weighing about three hundred 
 pounds. He was a lawyer by profession, and resided at 
 Holly Springs, where he was highly esteemed for his nobility 
 of character, and was regarded as one of tlie ablest and most 
 scholarly attorneys in Mississippi; and though a confederate 
 soldier, we can do no less than reverence his wonderful 
 bravery." 
 
 " We are all ready to pay our devotion to true courage 
 wherever we find it," said the presiding offic».*, and now i 
 will offer a tribute to ' The Old Canteen,' that staunch friend 
 of true courage and all other virtues, by inviting Lieutenant 
 Page to recite some beautiful lines on the subject, from an 
 author who, though unknown, makes us feel that he has test- 
 ed its friendship. 
 
 In response, the following was rendered in the most appre- 
 ciative manner: 
 
 THE OLD CANTEEN. 
 
 Send it up to the garret? Well, no; what's the harm 
 If it hangs Hke a horseshoe to serve as a ch::rm? 
 Had its day. to be sure; matches ill with things here; 
 
342 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 Shall I sack the old friend just because it is queer? 
 Thing of beauty 'tis not, but a joy none the less, 
 As my hot lips remember its old time caress, 
 And I think on the solace once gurgling between 
 My lips from that old battered tin canteen. 
 
 It has hung by my side in the long, weary tramp, 
 
 Been my friend in the bivouac, barrack, and camp, 
 
 In the triumph, capture, advance, and retreat. 
 
 More than light to my path, more than guide to my feet. 
 
 Sweeter nectar ne'er flowed, however sparkling and cold, 
 
 From out chalice of silver or goblet of gold, 
 
 For a king or an emperor, princess or queen, 
 
 Than to me from the mouth of that old canteen. 
 
 It has cheered the desponding on many a night, 
 
 'Till their laughing eyes gleamed in the camp-fire light, 
 
 Whether guns stood in silence, or boomed at short range, 
 
 It was always on duty ; though 'twould not be strange 
 
 If ii> somnolent periods just after "taps" 
 
 Some Colonel or Captain, disturbed at his naps, 
 
 May have felt a suspicion that "spirits" unseen 
 
 Had somehow bedeviled that old canteen. 
 
 But I think on the time when in lulls of the strife. 
 It has called the far look in dim eyes back to life; 
 Helped to staunch the quick blood just beginning to pour, 
 Softened broad , gaping wounds that were stiffened and sore, 
 Moistened thin, livid lips, so despairing of breath 
 They could only speak thanks in the quiver of death ; 
 If an angel of mercy e'er hovered between 
 This world and the next, 'twas the old canteen. 
 
 Then banish it not as a profitless thing. 
 Were it hung in a palace it well might swing 
 To tell in its mute, allegorical way 
 How the citizen volunteer won the day ; 
 How he bravely, unflinchingly, grandly won, 
 And how, when the death-dealing work was done, 
 'Twas as easy his passion from war to wean 
 As his mouth from the lips of that old canteen. 
 
 By and by, when all hate for the rag with the bars 
 Is forgotten in love for the "Stripes and the Stars;" 
 When Columbia rule'- everything solid and sole, 
 From her own ship canal to the ice at the Pole ; 
 When we Grand Army men have obeyed the last call, 
 And the May flowers and violets bloom for us all ; 
 Then away in some garret the cobweb may screen 
 My battered, old, cloth-covered, tin canteen. 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXIV. 
 
 THE LAST CAMP-FIRE END OF THE SEASON THE S. P. 
 
 U. H. VALEDICTORY A HYMN OF PEACE. 
 
 IT WAS spring; not one of the springs which poets dream 
 about, but just simply spring — the annual return of that 
 ^ season which, in the latitude where the chats had been 
 held, consisted of a muddy March, a rainy April and a flowery 
 May. It was the same as any other spring. The morning 
 had been just as frosty, and the edges of the small streams 
 and mill ponds just as icy (and no more so) as any other 
 spring; so the noon-days grew just as warm and pleasant; so 
 the evenings were just as comfortable and chilly alternately; 
 so the birds sang just as sweetly; so, later, when the thick, 
 rich mud had changed to yellow clods, the grass grew just 
 as fresh and green. All in all, no one could have any cause 
 for special self-congratulation; but all alike were happy. 
 
 The man of brainwork and the man of business each 
 again could brush back the ruffled locks from his forehead, 
 and, drawing a long breath, plainly see his blessed vacation 
 in the distance of a short month or so ; while the rested, burly 
 plowman could husk himself from his winter haunts, circu- 
 late in the fresh, free air of an American field, and bend to 
 his labor in the full hope of a beautiful and abundant 
 harvest. 
 
 In thorough and strict keeping with the spirit of the oc- 
 casion, and desiring to be in harmony with nature, the veter- 
 ans, therefore, in camp-fire assembled, passed a resolution 
 which gave positive instructions to the janitor to abstain from 
 
 343 
 
344 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 igniting the fagots until further orders; the resolution to take 
 effect when this fire had burned itself out. 
 
 The evening was devoted, not to the regular order of 
 business ; but to general leave-taking, dreamy remembrances 
 of the enjoyment which had been offered, and to a sort of re- 
 view of the former camp-fires. Now it was time to say 
 "Good-bye." The fire began to wane, and would soon be out, 
 accordmg to resolution. Business must be hurried if any 
 were to be done. 
 
 At this time an idea struck a veteran. He would call on 
 the S. P. U. H. for a speech to close. 
 
 « Moved and seconded," said the commander, " that the 
 Society for the Preservation of Unpublished History be, and 
 the same are hereby requested to furnish a speaker for this, 
 our last camp-fire." Carried. 
 
 The society refused to comply, of course; they would not 
 be human if they complied on being asked the first time. 
 To their amazement and chagrin, however, the veterans did 
 not make a second request for awhile. But finally, another 
 invitation was extended, which the society, having selected 
 one of their number for the occasion, was very careful to ac- 
 cept, simply for the reason that the comrades might take 
 offence, since they had originally assembled at the instance of 
 a similar request from the society. 
 
 Everything thus arranged and agreed, the unfortunate 
 member of the S. P. U. H. who must speak, suggested that 
 if the commissary would serve coffee and hard-tack, it would 
 allow him a little time for reflection. Granted. The 
 veterans then drank coffee; the society man drank coffee, and 
 reflected. What would he speak about? The war had been 
 the subject at every camp-fire all winter. Reconstruction 
 was threadbare. No topic of sufficient interest presented it- 
 self. The time for the speech was now at hand. The speaker 
 arose. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 345 
 
 " Worthy Commander," said he, with great dignity, 
 " I recall to memory everything which is of no interest. The 
 comrades, I know, are weary. We have just had supper. 
 Supper, dear veterans, is the only meal I really enjoy, except 
 breakfast and dinner." 
 
 "That's enough of that harangue, said the commander. 
 •» Spring is the season for fresh things." 
 
 " Well, there's nothing to talk about," said the speaker. 
 " It is not proper to exhort your patriotism to fight another 
 war; that only one flag shall rule us, has long been settled; 
 and, indeed, there seems no demand for but a very small 
 army. What shall I speak about? The plowshares of the 
 regenerated people are warm with energy; honest manhood 
 among them is flush in the hope of great fruitage, nor is this 
 hope misplaced; while the smoke from factories, new and 
 old, rises from a thousand hillsides. Only a few unruly ones 
 tamper with what has ' ceased to be even remains.' Ever thus 
 it has been. When a child burns his finger in the fire, he 
 naturally becomes mad at the fire; but it is only necessary 
 for him to thrust in his hand once more to find that the fire 
 will still burn. The garment of charity soon covers the 
 wound, which may be healed by proper doctoring; and when 
 the child pushes his finger through the garment, it needs the 
 hand of not only a stern, but modest, mild, and loving father 
 to administer gentle but firm renroof, which makes the family 
 complete, congenial and co-operative, when they can gather 
 around a camp-fire and swell the chorus in 
 
 A HYMN OF PEACE. 
 
 The echoes of war now have traveled 
 
 The valleys the last time for aye ; 
 And the hills and the forests are silent, 
 
 As the Angel of Peace wanders by j— 
 
34^ CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 While the unknown now sleep where they suffered- 
 In the land where brave charges they led ; 
 
 Where the moss droops her tendrils in mourning, 
 And the mocking bird sings to the dead. 
 
 Unmarked are the mounds where they slumber, 
 Their names are unsung and unwept; 
 
 But their deeds are not lost nor forgotten, 
 For they're in eternity kept. 
 
 And while nature's monuments freshen, 
 
 In merry spring over each grave 
 Of the loyal sons of the nation, 
 
 May her emblem in gratitude wave. 
 
 And, too, while the bosom of ocean 
 Bears the harvests away on her tide, 
 
 May the olive branch bend in the sunshine. 
 And brotherhood ever abide. 
 
 Then let all the hearts that are heavy 
 Be cheered by the smile of the glad. 
 
 And every one who may be happy, 
 Make happy all those who are sad. 
 
Gen. W. T. Sherman. 
 
i 
 
 ! 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXV. 
 
 RALLY AGAII^! — THE VETERAiq"S MUST MEET TOGETHER — 
 HOW THE G. A. R. GROWS — A THIRD OF A MILLIOI^ COM- 
 RADES — OVER OI^TE HUNDRED THOUSAND IN ASSOCIATE 
 SOCIETIES — THE BATTLES AND IMPORTANT EVENTS OF 
 THE WAR ARRANGED BY DATES. 
 
 '^ TS^ALL in! fall in I — why, boys! how natural the call 
 
 M^ seems/' said Colonel , as he warmly shook the 
 
 soldiers' hands. ^^I declare! I was glad to-day to have word 
 brought me that the vets were coming out to-night for 
 another of our cozy, social camp-fire chats. We've missed 
 it to go without them so long. No matter if that association 
 with a big name (that rather mixed in with the business 
 parts of our talks) wanted to adjourn and did adjourn, the 
 soldiers don't propose to stay adjourned. Ttie ' Society for 
 the Preservation of Unpublished History' may hang up its 
 harp on a willow, but the boys that did the fighting don't 
 propose any such innocuous desuetude. Not much! I tell 
 you the veterans must meet together. There's too much 
 solid satisfaction in it to forego the pleasure. The posts of 
 the Grand Army of the Republic have regular meetings, and 
 each one is a feast. But as all of our group haven't yet 
 joined the Grand Army, we must once in awhile come to- 
 gether here. When all our boys have fully ascertained 
 what the value of the G. A. R. is, they'll all be in it. Member- 
 ship there is a grand privilege and honor to all who are 
 entitled to it. 
 
 '*^ And by the way, boys, since our last camp-fire here the 
 G. A. R. has made immense progress. Since this grand 
 Order was last discussed here, there have been three National 
 encampments and the membership has more than doubled. 
 
 349 
 
350 CAMP-FIKE CHATS 0^^ THE CIVIL WAK. 
 
 The report at the Seventeenth Encampment showed 971 Posts 
 and 145,932 comrades on March 31, 1883. The report at the 
 Twentieth Encampment, at San Francisco, showed that March 
 31, 1886, there were 38 departments, 5,765 posts and 326,499 
 comrades. In addition, there are • in the societies of the 
 Ladies of the G. A. E. , the Woman's Relief Corps, the Sons 
 of Veterans and the Daughters of Veterans over 100,000 
 more — making a grand total of nearly half a million. 
 
 " This TAventieth National Encampment at California was 
 one of the grandest assemblages ever held. I am going to have 
 a distingnished comrade who was there come in and tell us 
 about it and bring us some of the good things that were 
 distributed there." 
 
 " Janitor, stir up that fire, and make it a rouser ! The 
 veterans are going to have some brilliant social times together. 
 We may boil some beans before we get through. '^ 
 
 ''Colonel,'' said a grim old sergeant, ''before we are 
 favored with the G. A. R. history, can you tell us where we 
 can find a perfect list of the battles we fought from '61 to '65? 
 A veteran and I were looking the thing over the other day, 
 but couldn't get hold of a complete list. We want the full 
 record, including other important war events, and want to 
 keep it where we can refer to it at any moment. I think we 
 would all appreciate better the ties that make the Grand 
 Army soldiers so dear to each other, by refreshing our mem- 
 ories in regard to all the battles fought by the boys. The 
 heat of those conflicts welded bands of fraternity and affection 
 that can never lose their hold on faithful hearts." 
 
 "Sergeant, your question is well put," said the Colonel. 
 " I have given considerable attention to securing a complete 
 list of the battles and the important events of th^ war. I 
 have overhauled and compared several lists, and will give you 
 one to be depended upon. Before I commence reading, how- 
 ever, I must insist on your not interrupting. When the name 
 of a battle is mentioned in which you were engaged, if you 
 
CAMP-riRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 351 
 
 don^t chain your tongues a dozen of you will be shouting and 
 wanting to tell about it. Now, if you do that we^ll never get 
 through tlie list, so you must all keep still. You may hold up 
 your hands at your battle, but don^t talk.'^ 
 ''AH right, Commander, begin the battles.-'^ 
 
 The Battles and Important Events oe the War, Ar- 
 ranged BY Dates. 
 
 1861. 
 April 12-13, Fort Sumter bombarded. 
 
 April 18, Harper's Ferry arsenal evacuated, [more. 
 
 April 19, Massachusetts troops, under Gen. Butler attacked in Balti- 
 April 21, Norfolk Navy Yard evacuated. 
 May 24, Arlington Heights occupied. 
 Junes, battle of Phillippi, W. Va. 
 June 10, battle of Big Bethel, Va. 
 June 17, battle of Booneville, Mo, 
 July 5, battle of Carthage, i\Io. 
 July 11, battle of Rich Mountain, Va. 
 July 14, battle of Carrick's Ford. Va. 
 July 18, battle of Centerville, Va. 
 July 21, battle of Bull Run, Va. 
 
 *' I was there ! " shouted several together. 
 
 ^^ Refrain from talking," commanded the Colonel. 
 
 August 10, battle of Wilson's Creek, Mo, 
 August 29, battle of Hattenis Inlet, iT. C. 
 September 10, battle of Carnifex Landing, Va. 
 September 20, battle of Lexington, Mo. 
 October 21, battle of Ball's Bluff, Va. 
 ^' I was there ! " said some of the boys. 
 '' Will you keep still ?" inquired the Colonel. 
 November 7, battle of Belmont, Mo. 
 November 7, battle of Port Royal, S. C, 
 
 November 8, Capt. Wilkes takes Mason and Slidell from the 
 steamer Trent. 
 
 1862. 
 January 8, battle of Romney, Va. 
 January 9, battle of Big Sandy River, Ky. 
 January 19, battle of Mill Spring, Ky, 
 
352 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAK. 
 
 February 6, battle of Fort Henry, Tenn. 
 
 February 8, battle of Roanoke Island, N. C. 
 
 February 16, battle of Fort Donelson, Tenn, 
 
 " I-I-I-I was there ! " came in a perfect chorus of voices. 
 
 '^ No talking in the ranks ! '^ sternly ordered the Colonel. 
 
 February 23, Nashville, Tenn., occupied. 
 
 March 7 and 8, battle of Pea Ridge, Ark. 
 
 March 8, battle between the Merrimac and the Cumberland. 
 
 March 9, battle between the Monitor and the Merrimac. 
 
 March 14, battle of Newbern, N. C. 
 
 March 22, Columbia, Tenn., occupied. 
 
 March 23, battle of "Winchester, Va. 
 
 March 23, battle of New Madrid, Mo. 
 
 April 6, battle of Shiloh, Tenn. 
 
 '^ I was there! " ^' I was there! ^^ called out the irrepressible 
 veterans. ^' Silence in the battalion!" yelled the Colonel. 
 April 7, battle of Island No. 10, Mississippi river. 
 April 11, battle of Fort Pulaski, Ga. 
 
 April 24, Farragut passes Forts Jackson and St. Philip, La. 
 April 25, battle of Forts Macon and Beaufort, N. C. 
 April 28, battle of Ft. Jackson and St. Philip, La. 
 April 28, battle of New Orleans, La. 
 May 4, battle of Yorktown, Va. 
 May 5, battle of Williamsburg, Va. 
 May 9, battle of West Point, Va. 
 May 10, battle of Norfolk, Va. 
 May 12, battle of Natchez, Miss. 
 May 12, Bank's retreat down the Shenandoah Valley. 
 May 23, battle of Port Royal, Va. 
 May 30, battle of Corinth, Miss. 
 May 31 and June 1, battleof Fair Oaks, Va. 
 June 4, battle of Fort Pillow, Tenn. 
 June 6, battle of Memphis, Tenn. 
 June 27, battle of Gaines' Mill, Va. 
 June 29, battle of Savage's Station, Va. 
 June 30, battle of Glendale, Va. 
 July 1, battle of Malvern Hill, Va. 
 August 9, battle of Cedar Mountain, Va. 
 August 29, second battle of Bull Run. 
 August 30, battle of Richmond, Ey. 
 
CAMP-FIEE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAK. 353 
 
 September 1, battle of Chantilly, Va. 
 September 5, invasion of Maryland by General Lee. 
 September 14, battle of South Mountain. 
 September 15, battle of Harper's Ferry, Va. 
 September 17, battle of Antietam. 
 
 " I was there \'' '^ I — I — I " — roared many voices. 
 '^Keep still !^^ replied the Colonel. 
 
 September 17, battle of Mumford, Ky. 
 
 September 19, battle of luka, Miss. 
 
 October 4, battle of Corinth, Miss. 
 
 October 8, battle of Perryville, Ky. 
 
 December 13, battle of Fredericksburg, Ya. 
 
 December 29, battle of Holly Springs, Miss. 
 
 December 29, battle of Chickasaw Bayou, Miss. 
 
 December 31, battle of Murfreesboro, Tenn— also January 2d, 1863. 
 
 " The Nineteenth Hlinois saved the left!" A perfect vol- 
 ley of enthusiasm checked the speaker, and not until fifteen 
 minutes had passed did the Colonel obtain silence. 
 
 1863. 
 
 January 1, Negro Slavery abolished. 
 
 January 1, Battle of Galveston, Texas. 
 
 January 11, battle of Arkansas Post, Ark. 
 
 April 7, attack on Fort Sumter. 
 
 April 29, battle of Grand Gulf, Miss. 
 
 April and May, Union cavalry raid by General Grierson in Alabama. 
 
 May 1, battle of Port Gibson, Miss. 
 
 May 2 and 3, battle of Chancellorsville, Va. 
 
 ^^ I tell you, I was there/' spoke up an excited veteran. 
 "Don't mention \i," laconically answered the ColoneL 
 
 May 14, battle of Jackson, Miss. 
 
 May 16, battle of Champion Hills, Miss. 
 
 May 17, battle of Big Black River, Miss. 
 
 June 9, second invasion of Maryland by General Lee. 
 
 June 27, beginning of raids by the rebel Morgan. 
 
 July 1, 2 and 3, battle of Gettysburg, Pa. 
 
 "I was there;" "Now I toill talk;" "I helped give the 
 Johnnies their Waterloo there; " "I fired the grape and canis- 
 ter at them;" and similar expressions were heard on every hand. 
 
354 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 <e 
 
 I am glad/' said the Colonel, ''that so many of you 
 were there to help break the backbone of the rebellion, and 
 were spared to come away. But don't talk about it now, or 
 we shall be unable to finish the list this week." 
 
 July 4, battle of Helena, Ark. 
 July 4, surrender of Vicksburg. 
 
 ''Hurrah!" I reckon I was there!" "I was too," cheered 
 the boys, with a vim equal to the Gettysburg survivors. 
 They carried the whole house so by storm that all the Colonel 
 could say was, "Don't!" 
 
 July 8, surrender of Port Hudson. 
 
 July 13 to 16, draft riots in New York city. 
 
 July 27, Morgan captured near New Lisbon, Ohio. 
 
 August 21 and 22, Quantrell plunders and burn^ Lawrence, Kansas. 
 
 September 1, battle of Fort Smith, Ark. 
 
 September 6, battle of Fort Wagner, S. C. 
 
 September 10, battle of Little Rock. Ark. 
 
 September 19 and 20, battle of Chickamauga, Tenn. 
 
 November 25, battle of Lookout Mountain, Tenn. 
 
 " Ah ! we were there! " " We climbed those cliffs!" " So 
 did I! " cheered a dozen. 
 
 " How you suppose I can read with all that racket going 
 on?" smiled the Colonel. 
 
 November 26, battle of Mission Ridge, Tenn. 
 
 "Never mind the reading!" "Hurrah for that day!" 
 "Please to write in your list that I was there?" "I was 
 there ! " testified several gray-haired heroes. 
 
 "You don't seem to keep perfectly still," mildly expostu- 
 lated the Colonel. 
 
 November 29, battle of Knoxville, Tenn. 
 1864. ■ 
 
 February 20, battle of Olustee. 
 
 February 20, Sherman's expedition to Meridian, Miss. 
 
 March 14, battle of Fort De Russy N. C. 
 
 March 24, battle of Union City. 
 
 April 8, Battle of Mansfield, La. 
 
CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAE. 355 
 
 April 9, battle of Pleasant Hill, La. 
 
 April 13, Fort Pillow Massacre, 
 
 April 20, battle of Plymouth, N. C. 
 
 April 23, battle of Cane River, La. 
 
 May 4, Army of the Potomac crosses the Rapidan. 
 
 May 4 to 7 battles of tlie Wilderness. 
 
 '^I was there !" *^ We fought in the woods/' spoke two 
 old men, having but one arm each. 
 
 " I am glad you got out of the woods, boys," was all the 
 Colonel could say. 
 
 May 7, Sherman begins his march to Atlanta, Ga. 
 
 'MVe went along!" ^'^I tramped with Uncle Billy!" 
 "I was there !" was shouted before the Colonel had time to 
 raise his hand. 
 
 May 7, battle at Bermuda Hundred, Va. 
 
 May 7 to 12, battles near Spottsjivania, Va. 
 
 May 14 and 15, battle of Resaca, Ga. 
 
 May 15, battle of Newmarket, Va. 
 
 May 19, battle of Nortli Anna, Va. 
 
 May 25 to 28, battle of Dallas, Ga. 
 
 May and June, General Sheridan north of Richmond. 
 
 June 1 to 3, battle of Cold Harbor, Va. 
 
 June 5, battle of Piedmont, Va, 
 
 June 15, Array of the Potomac crosses the James, 
 
 June 15 to 17, battle of Lost Mountain, Ga. 
 
 June 18 to 21, Assault at Petersburg, Va. 
 
 June 19, the Kearsage destroys the Alabama. 
 
 July 5, Early invades Maryland. 
 
 July 9, battle of Monocacy, Md. 
 
 July 20 to 28, battles before Atlanta, Ga, 
 
 ''We wore there!" ''I helped there!" and a dozen 
 hands waved aloft. 
 
 July 30, Charabersburg, Pa,, burned, 
 
 July 30, Repulse at Petersburg, Va, 
 
 August 5, Farragut's Fleet enters Mobile Bay, 
 
 August 8 to 20, Fort Gaines and Fort Morgan taken. 
 
 August 18, W^eldou Railroad, N. C, siezed. 
 
 September 2, Atlanta captured by Sherman. 
 
356 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 September 19, battle of Winchester, Va, 
 
 September 23, battle of Fisher's Hill, Va. 
 
 October 19, battle of Cedar Creek, Va, 
 
 October 27, the Ram Albemarle destroyed. 
 
 October 31, Recapture of Plymouth, N. C. 
 
 November 14, Sherman begins his march from Atlanta to the Sea. 
 
 '^ Ha ! ha ! I was there ! " '' Hurrah ! we went ! '' '' We 
 were some of the bummers \" ^'1 foraged ! " and the laugh- 
 ter and cheers of the triumphant host nearly took the Colonel's 
 breath away. He could only murmur, ^^I suj^pose somebody 
 was there, from wliat happened. '^ And then the boys sans; 
 every verse of '^''Marching through Georgia," with a double 
 chorus, before they would let the reading go on. 
 
 November 30, battle of Franklin, Tenn. 
 
 December 13, battle of Fort McAllister, Ga. 
 
 December 15 and 16, battle of Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 December 21, Capture of Savannah, Ga. 
 
 December 24, bombardment of Fort Fisher, N. C, begins. 
 
 1865. 
 
 January 15, Capture of Fort Fisher, N. C. 
 
 February 17, Capture of Columbia, S. C. 
 
 February 17, Charleston, S. C, evacuated. 
 
 February 22, Capture of Wilmington, N. C. 
 
 February 27, Sheridan goes up the Shenandoah Valley. 
 
 March 2, battle of Waynesborough, Va, 
 
 March 12, Occupation of Fayetteville, N. C. 
 
 March 15, battle of Averysboro, N. C. 
 
 March 18, battle of Bentonville, N. C. 
 
 March 21, battle of Goldsboro, N. C. 
 
 March 25, Rebels repulsed at Fort Steadman, Va. 
 
 April 1, battle of Five Forks, Va. 
 
 April 3, Petersburg and Richmond captured. 
 
 April 9, surrender of Gen. Lee to Gen. Grant, at Appomattox C. H., 
 
 April 13, Sherman enters Raleigh, N. C. [Va. 
 
 April 14, President Lincoln assassinated. 
 
 April 26, Surrender of Gen, Johnston to Gen. Sherman, at Raleigh, 
 
 May 10, Capture of Jeff. Davis, at Irwinsville, Ga. [N. C. 
 
 May 26, the last Rebel force in the South-west surrenders to General 
 Canby. 
 
CAMP FIRE XXXVI. 
 
 EVENTS PKELIMIXAKY TO THE FIRIKG 01^ SUMTER — THE 
 DIFFERENT CALLS FOR TROOPS — STRENGTH OF THE ARMY 
 — NUMBER OF SOLDIERS FROM EACH STATE. 
 
 '^ jrtjALLY rouud the fire V shouted the Lieutenant, and 
 ^% cue hundred and twenty-three old vets disposed 
 themselves comfortably for a good chat. At once the Ser- 
 geant called out "Before our forces get started on the Grand 
 Army history and good times, I want to ask another question. 
 I have thought a good deal on the list of battles of the war 
 that we had last time. I took down a copy of it and 
 wouldn^t be without that same paper for a good deal ; but I 
 want some points on what happened before Fort Sumter was 
 fired on. I know it was South Carolina that first passed the 
 ordinance of secession. Can any one give me the date 'f 
 
 "December 20, I860," said a high private. 
 
 "Well, can you tell me, Mr. H. P., the time of the other 
 states seceding ? " 
 
 "Early in 1861 secession ordinances were passed by Mis- 
 sissippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Vir- 
 ginia, Arkansas and North Carolina, and on February 4, 1861, 
 the so-called ^Southern Confederacy' was formed at Mont- 
 gomery, Ala. 
 
 Kansas had been admitted into the Union on January 29, 
 1861, and the rebels pretended that that occurrence and the 
 approaching inauguration March 4, of President Lincoln, was 
 a menace to the South. They got together and rushed things 
 so that on February 18 they inaugurated Jeif erson Davis as 
 President of their " Confederacy." 
 
 "Thank you ! " said the sergeant, " and now for one item 
 
358 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAR. 
 
 more. I have a sort of indistinct impression that a warlike 
 demonstration was made before April 12, when Sumter was 
 fired on. But I want definite information." 
 
 The historical veteran replied: ^'^Of course every one 
 knows that the rebels stole everything from the United States 
 they could lay their hands on — cannons, ammunition, guns 
 provisions — in fact, pretty much all the property government 
 had in the South. And on January 9, 1861, the steamer 
 Star of the West was fired into off Charleston." 
 
 ^'^Well," said the sergeant, rising, '^I want to say one 
 thing, right here : Look at the amazing forbearance of our 
 government. The rebels began with secession, December 20, 
 1860, four months before our volunteers were called out, 
 April 15, 1861. During these four months they were daily 
 insulting our flag and stealing all in their reach. And on 
 January 9, 1861, over three months before our volunteers 
 were called for, they actually fired on a United States steamer. 
 Oh ! how many tens of thousands of lives that delay on the 
 part of the government cost us ! And, besides, the traitors 
 seeing that we were doing nothing only talk, took us for 
 cowards and went on all the more abusively. Well, there's 
 one consolation," the sergeant grimly added, ^' they found out 
 they were mistaken." 
 
 A tall corporal next inquired : ^'^How many calls for sol- 
 diers were made, and for how long service ? And how many 
 different men were there in our army ? " 
 
 The well-posted veteran responded, '^'^ General John A. 
 Logan made the address at the tomb of General Grant on 
 Decoration Day, 1886. He therein stated as follows : 
 ^3,335,951 patriots voluntarily left home, family and peace- 
 ful pursuits to defend the flag of our Union. Of these, nearly 
 600,000 perished.' His statement is very high authority for 
 the present proper estimate. 
 
 '' From statistics published soon after the close of the war, 
 1 can give you a good list of the dates, etc., of the different 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 359 
 
 calls for troops. You had better take out your pencils and 
 write it off. 
 
 '^'Number of men called for, with date of each call, and for 
 how long a period of service. Also the number of men ob- 
 tained under each call to June 30, 1865 : 
 
 DATE OF CALL. 
 
 NUMBER 
 CALLED FOR. 
 
 PERIODS OF 
 SERVICE. 
 
 NUMBER 
 OBTAINED. 
 
 April 15, 1861 
 
 75,000 
 
 82,748 ) 
 500,000 f 
 
 300,000 
 300,000 
 100,000 
 300,000 ) 
 200,000 f 
 200,000 
 85,000 
 500,000 
 300,000 
 
 3 months. 
 
 3 years. 
 
 3 months. 
 
 3 years. 
 
 9 months. 
 
 6 months. 
 
 3 years. 
 
 3 years. 
 
 100 days. 
 
 1, 2 &3yrs. 
 
 1, 2& 3yrs. 
 
 93,326 
 
 May 3. 1861, 
 
 July 22 and 25, 1861 
 
 714,231 
 
 May and June, 1862 
 
 15,007 
 
 431,958 
 
 87,588 
 
 16,361 
 
 374.807 
 
 July 2, 1862 
 
 August 4, 1862 
 
 June 15, 1863 
 
 October 17, 1863 
 
 February 1, 1864 
 
 March 14, 1864 
 
 April 23, 1864 
 
 284,021 
 
 83,652 
 
 384 882 
 
 July 18, 1864 
 
 December 19 1864 
 
 204,568 
 
 
 Totals 
 
 2,942,748 
 
 
 2,690,401 
 
 
 ^^The calls of October 17, 1863, and February 1, 1864, were 
 combined, and the product of the draft of July 1863 was 
 credited thereon. 
 
 ^'In addition to the above number, 63,332 men were ob- 
 tained, chiefly from the territories, and from other rebellious 
 States, under different calls, and for various periods of ser- 
 vice. 
 
 ''The whole number of men obtained by draft was 168,649. 
 The whole number of colored troops obtained was 180, 097. '^ 
 
 '' I rise for a moment, ^^ said the intellectual-looking cap- 
 tain, " to draw attention to the perseverance as well as the 
 grandeur of sacrifice which that list records. The first call 
 of 75,000 men for three months, was then supposed to be 
 more than ample. Afterwards, in May (eighteen days later), 
 82,748 were asked for. Then like a lio-htnin^ flash after the 
 
oCO CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 battle of Bull Run (July 21), came the call for a half million 
 men. The Government and the loyal people were aroused to 
 the truth that a great war was on hand. Then volunteers 
 were asked for ^ three years or during the war.' Now mark 
 well the response ! An uprising, such as history has never 
 known — at which all nations of earth were filled with undis- 
 guised amazement. The three calls united, required 657,748 
 men — and behold ! there volunteered 807,557 of the best men 
 that ever took arms, who afterward proved themselves the 
 grandest soldiers of all time. That is to say, there rushed 
 forward above the two-thirds of a million summoned, a sur- 
 plus of 150,000 men I The excess was more than twice the 
 number that Greneral Washington had under his command at 
 any one time during the Revolutionary War. 
 
 " For nearly a year these sustained the battle flags, till on 
 July 2, 1862, three hundred thousand more men were called 
 for three years; and a month later, August 4, 1862, another 
 300,000. Observe, also, that 400,000 were called for in 
 
 1863. Still the rebellion maintained a mighty front, and in 
 
 1864, one million two hundred and eighty-five thousand more 
 men were summoned, most of them for three years. 
 
 ^^I cannot help but think what must have been the crush- 
 ing anguish of heart to the kind and noble Lincoln, as duty 
 compelled him to direct each one of those calls. In summon- 
 ing so many to danger and death in defense of Union and 
 liberty, he only voiced the sentiment of all the noble in our 
 land. How truly he spoke the will of the loyal millions, was 
 seen in that unparalleled response ; when in raising 3,000,000 
 of soldiers for the fiercest of earth's wars, only 168,000 had to 
 be coerced by draft. Only one twentieth part of those vast 
 armies missed the glory of volunteering to defend the old flag 
 on the field of battle. Boys ! excuse my talking so much/' 
 said the captain, while his face glowed with the old time 
 spirit, '^but my heart is full every time I think of our vol- 
 
CAMP-FlllE CilATd OF TKE CIVIL WAR. 361 
 
 '•^I move tliat we invite our musical comrade to sing that 
 song, ^^ Three Millions Marched Out to Save Our Land/' 
 
 "THREE MILLION'S MARCHED OL^T TO SAVE OUR LAND." 
 
 " 3,335,951 patriots voluntarily left home, family and peaceful pursuits, to 
 defend thoflagof our Union. Of these nearly 500,000 perished."— Gen. Logan's 
 address, May 31, 1886, at the tomb of Gen. Grant, 
 
 Three millions marched out to save our land, 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 
 Three million brave boys in blue, so grand, 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 
 The world kept count, with their wondering eyes, 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 
 And shouted ' ' glory ! " to see armies rise, 
 ]'■ Three millions, three hundred thousand. 
 
 Those heroes in blue taught earth anew. 
 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 "What patriots true for right could do. 
 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 They met fierce foes that were brave and strong, 
 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 . And conquered all, though the fight was long. 
 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand. 
 
 '■ The soldiers now left are growing gray, 
 
 Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 
 ' And soon they will all have passed away, 
 
 'i Three miUions, three hundred thousand. 
 
 - But years to come Avill forever cheer, 
 
 1' Three millions, three hundred thousand; 
 
 '; . The grand old army that could know no fear, 
 
 t Three millions, three hundred thousand. 
 
 f "Ah!'' said the sergeant, "it is indeed thrilling to r^^ 
 
 J view those figures of glowing patriotism. Now in this con- 
 
 I nection can some one giv.e us the list of the number of men 
 
 : furnished by each State? Of course the N'orthwestern and 
 
 ; some of the "Western States appear in such a list at a com^ 
 
 I parative disadvantage with the older and longer settled East, 
 
 \ Twenty-five years ago some of them were in infancy as states. 
 
362 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 and but thinly settled. Several of the present States were 
 then only territories. But we want to know, of course, just 
 what each State did.^^ 
 
 The High Private arose. '^Here, boys, is the record; 
 arranged in the order of the number of men furnished by each 
 state and territory, the highest heading the list : 
 
 1. New York 445,959 
 
 2. Pennsylvania 338,155 
 
 3. Ohio 310,654 
 
 4. Illinois., 258,162 
 
 5. Indiana 194,363 
 
 6. Massachusetts 146,467 
 
 7. Missouri 108,773 
 
 8. Wisconsin 91,021 
 
 9. Michigan 88,111 
 
 10. Iowa 75,793 
 
 11. New Jersey 75,315 
 
 12. Kentucky 75,275 
 
 13. Maine 69,738 
 
 14. Connecticut 55,755 
 
 15. Maryland 46,053 
 
 16. New Hampshire 33,913 
 
 17. Vermont 33,272 
 
 18. West Virginia 32,203 
 
 19. Tennessee 31,092 
 
 20. Minnesota 24,002 
 
 21. Rhode Island 23,248 
 
 22. Kansas 20,095 
 
 23. District of Columbia. . 16,534 
 
 24. California 15,725 
 
 25. Delaware 12,265 
 
 26. Arkansas 8.289 
 
 27. New Mexico, (ter.)... 6,561 
 
 28. Louisiana 5,224 
 
 29. Colorado, (ter.) 4,903 
 
 30. Indian Nations 3,530 
 
 31. Nebraska, (ter.) 3,157 
 
 32. North Carolina 3.156 
 
 33. Alabama 2,576 
 
 34. Texas 1,965 
 
 35. Oregon 1,810 
 
 36. Florida 1,290 
 
 37. Nevada 1,080 
 
 38. Washington, (ter.) 964 
 
 39. ^Mississippi 545 
 
 40. Dakota, (ter.) 206 
 
 Total 2,666,999 
 
 '^Boys!" said the Captain, jumping up, ^'1 must quote a 
 few words Gen. Grant said one Fourth of July: 
 
 *' ^ We should have been unworthy of our country and the 
 American name had we not made every sacrifice to save the 
 Union. What saved the Union was the coming forward of 
 the young men of the Nation. They came from their homes 
 and fields, as in the time of the Revolution, giving every- 
 thing to the country. To their devotion we owe the salva- 
 tion of the Union. The. humblest soldier who carried a mus- 
 ket is entitled to as much credit for the result of the war as 
 those in command. So long as our young men are animated 
 by this spirit there will be no fear for the Union. ^^^ 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXVII. 
 
 STKENGTH OF THE U. S. ARMY AT f ARIOUS DATES Al^'D AT THE 
 PRESENT TIME — THE GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC— THE 
 EIGHTEENTH NATIONAL ENCAMPMENT AT MINNEAPOLIS, 
 MINN. 
 
 '' Ji[|ftO-NIGHT, boys/' said the Captain in his eloquent 
 ^ way, as he stood near the fire, *^we come to the 
 mighty force of the present — the army that is the pride today 
 of our nation — the Grand Army of the Republic. At one 
 time (before our Camp Fire Chats were adjourned for a vaca- 
 tion) the subject was discussed here and some very interesting 
 things said of the Order. That society with a tremendous 
 name, that was allowed to attend our meetings, published in 
 their book of reports an account of the Grand Army of the 
 Republic, including the Seventeenth National Encampment. 
 They also presented the platform of principles, ' Fraternity, 
 Charity and Loyalty.' Of course every veteran knows that 
 no person is admitted to membership in the Grand Army un- 
 less the official records of the war show him to have been an 
 honorable soldier with an honorable discharge." 
 
 ^^ I wish to reconnoitre a little," said the grim Sergeant, 
 '^if this large assemblage will permit me. The various lists 
 of facts in regard to Columbia's splendid armies, which- have 
 recently been furnished to us, are very highly prized by my- 
 self, and I have studied them over a good deal. But I notice 
 that neither list gives the strength of our army at any one 
 time. I see that our well posted soldier is on hand again 
 this evening and I want to ask him to favor us with this in- 
 formation. We can then turn with even better appreciation, 
 from the glorious army that was, to the Grand Army that is." 
 
 363 
 
SG4 
 
 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAK. 
 
 ^^In quoting the figures desired/' said the High Private, 
 modestly ; '^ I only drop the reminder that at all times after 
 the forepart of the war, a large number of our soldiers were 
 absent. This state of affairs was necessary from sickness, 
 wounds, imprisonment, and, at some more inactive times of 
 the year, from furloughs and leaves of absence, when they 
 could best be spared for a few days' visit to the loved ones at 
 home. And as the list I give from the official reports, men- 
 tions most frequently the date of January 1, (in winter inac- 
 tivity), it is proper to introduce this explanation. You want 
 to preserve this, boys, in writing, as much as anything else. 
 
 SteenctTH of the United States Army at Various 
 Dates. 
 
 Date. 
 
 No Men Pres't. 
 
 No. Men Abs't. 
 
 Total Strength. 
 
 January 1, 1861 
 
 July 1, 1861 
 
 January 1, 1862 
 
 January 1, 1863... . 
 
 January 1, 1864 
 
 January 1, 1865 
 
 May 1, 1865 . 
 
 14,663 
 
 183,588 
 527,204 
 698.802 
 611,250 
 620,924 
 797,807 
 
 1,704 
 3,163 
 48,713 
 219,389 
 249,487 
 338,536 
 202,709 
 
 16,367 
 186,751 
 575,917 
 918,191 
 
 860,737 
 
 959,460 
 
 1,000,516 
 
 
 '' Will you please tell us what is the number in the United 
 States Army in this good year of 1886 ?" asked a listener. 
 
 ''^ General Sheridan has just made his report, which gives 
 the present strength as, officers, 2,102 ; enlisted men, 23,946, 
 total,, 26,048." 
 
 ^'Ha! ha! ha!" shouted one of the veteran Sherman^s 
 Bummers, ' ' they've got some of the officers left, anyway ; even 
 if there aren't many men." 
 
 When the laughter had subsided, the High Private re- 
 marked, '^'^ You mustn't forget, boys, that there was a navy at 
 the time of the war, as well as an army. Hundreds of thous- 
 ands of the bravest men did there a most heroic service for 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAK. 365 
 
 the flag. Add their number to the army lists ^e have had, 
 and you see how General Logan's figures may be reached. It 
 will also increase the number given from each state, and fur- 
 nish a basis for the 486,000 men the State of New York claims 
 to have furnished, although the list I read mentions 446,000.^^ 
 
 '^ I move the previous question/' said a veteran sharp- 
 shooter, "and that nothing further be allowed to interfere 
 with telling the history and the present value of the Grand 
 Army of the Republic.'' 
 
 "Second the motion," answered the sergeant, "and I do 
 it all the more heartily as the splendid historical lists we have 
 had, record an unequaled tribute to the men who now consti- 
 tute the Grand Army of the Republic." 
 
 "Boys V said the Captain, "it isn't necessary to call for 
 a vote to show the unanimious wish to hear all we can about 
 the Grand Army. I move that we call upon the comrade who 
 went there and came back so full of the California Encamp- 
 ment. Let him tell us of the recent history of the organiza- 
 tion and the grand trip so many made to the Pacific coast. 
 And, as an introduction, I suggest that we give three cheers 
 for the G. A. R." 
 
 The old-time way in which those hurrahs rang out, almost 
 loosened the plastering from the walls. 
 
 "Boys," said the veteran, feelingly, "it is an honor, as 
 well as a pleasure, to try to speak of the grandest organization 
 of men on earth — the present union of Columbia's veteran 
 soldiers. I only regret that a more able person was not se- 
 lected by you for the duty. What I may say will be mostly 
 what I have gathered from the deeds and words of others of 
 the comrades, as well as the official records of the Order. 
 
 " I have been looking over the reports of the former series 
 of Camp-Fire Chats, and I see they covered the ground only 
 till the Seventeenth National Encampment at Denver, Col., 
 July 25 and 26, 1863. Since that time three more have been 
 held, the Eighteenth, Nineteenth and Twentieth. So much at- 
 
366 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 tention is necessary for the wonderful growth of the Order, and 
 its kindred societies, and for the narrative of tlie Twentieth 
 Encampment, that I can only glance at the two others. 
 
 *^The Eighteenth National Encampment was held at Minne- 
 apolis, Minn., on Jnly 23, 24 and 25, 1864. There Avas an im- 
 mense attendance of old soldiers and the public — a magnifi- 
 cent testimonial of a loyal people. The state and city gave a 
 royal welcome to the veterans, which drew out the following; 
 official resolutions : 
 
 "The Grand Army of the Republic in the Eighteenth Annual Session 
 of the National Encampment, assembled at Minneapolis, Minnesota, 
 desire to express in this manner their grateful appreciation of the muniti- 
 cent hospitality of the people of Minnesota, extended on every hand to 
 them and to their comrades and friends in attendance at this reunion. 
 For the first time gathered in the great Northwest, in a state that has 
 developed such wonderful resources, adding so greatly to the wealth and 
 prosperity of the nation, welcome made more than welcome, and citizens 
 have vied with the public authorities in making our stay pleasant and 
 memorable. Therefore it is unanimously 
 
 "Bewlved, That a committe3 be appointed to convey to the people of 
 Minnesota through the honored Executive of the state, His Excellency, 
 Governor L F. Hubbard, the earnest thanks of the Grand Army of the 
 Republic. 
 
 ''Resolved, That in cordial appreciation of the many evidences of gener. 
 ous welcome shown in the decoration of public and private buildings, 
 the reception and attention given by the officials of the cit}^ and the 
 open-hearted hospitality extended by the citizens to the ex-soldiers and 
 sailors of the Union, in attendance at the Encampment, the hearty thanks 
 of the Grand Army of the Republic should be conveyed to the people of 
 Minneapolis, through its esteemed representative, His Honor, the Mayor, 
 George A, Pillsbury, whose personal attention and kindness will also be 
 long remembered by the participants of this our largest Encampment 
 and Reunion. 
 
 '^At this Encampment John S. Kountz, of Toledo, Ohio, 
 was elected Commander-in-Chief. The Adjutant-Gen eraFs 
 report showed a membership on March 31, 1884, of 233,824. '' 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXVIII. 
 
 r'HE NIIS'ETEENTH NATIONAL EKCAMPMENT AT POETLAND, 
 ME. — MOTHER BICKERDYCK — MRS. ANNA WITTENMYER 
 . — FRATERNITY, CHARITY AND LOYALTY IN THE ORDER. 
 
 ^HfftHERE is so much to tell, boys," said the narrator, 
 ^^* '^that I must rush right ahead. Don't interrupt, 
 now that I turn to the East. 
 
 ^•' Loyal New England was glad to have the old soldiers 
 £ome to visit the sturdy State of Maine, and furnished a 
 grand gathering of welcome to the veterans and their fami- 
 lies. It has sometimes been said that the staid Yankees of 
 the far East were not so demonstrative in manner as their 
 broad-hearted brothers of the AYest. The mistake of such a 
 jurmise is always shown when a call comes for deeds. The 
 yeomanry, whose ancestors guided the Mayflower to Plymouth 
 Rock, and built the foundations of Columbia's greatness, are 
 .;hips of the old block when action for our country is needed. 
 Vheir record in the Revolutionary times is one that stirs the 
 heart of every freeman throughout the world with grateful 
 pride that humanity has furnished such immortal heroes. 
 A7id in the War of the Rebellion, it was the vigorous State of 
 Massachusetts that sent 13,000 men more than her quota 
 demanded. 
 
 ^^Siich, then, were the hearty, genuine 23atriots that were 
 to rise in welcome to the old boys Avho saved the land from 
 disunion. To say that the veterans of the Middle States, 
 of the West and Northwest, as well as the Pacific Slope, were 
 surprised at the warm greeting they received, is a mild 
 remark. 
 
 " Wednesday, * June 24, 1885, was a great day in Port- 
 
 367 
 
368 CAMP-riliE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 land. There never was one like it before — there will 
 probably be none like it in magnitude during the years to 
 come. For several days arrivals poured in on every train, 
 while every country road leading into the Forest City was 
 filled with farmers' wagons from all the territory around. 
 Long before the hour of the grand parade, some of the streets 
 were blocked with a mass of humanity, restlessly moving 
 about, or frantically endeavoring to find a comfortable place 
 to see. The weather was simply perfection. By nine o'clock 
 the walks of the leading thoroughfares were almost impassa- 
 ble. At ten o'clock it was impossible to move in some of the 
 lower sections of the city. Every point of vantage w^as 
 secured ; windows in many cases commanding a high premium. 
 Balconies on the route of procession v/ere filled with lady 
 friends of the owners. On State street twelve hundred 
 school girls dressed in white, and waving flags, welcomed the 
 veterans with patriotic songs. The beautiful lawns on this 
 street, wliich stretch to the curb, were protected by wooden 
 platforms which were filled w^ith chairs for the accommoda- 
 tion of ladies. 
 
 •'The route of the parade was three and one-third miles 
 long, and the procession was two hours and thirty-seven 
 minutes in passing a given point, including halts ; or two 
 hours without halts. The veterans marched at a quick-step. 
 It is estimated that twenty-three tliousand men were in line, 
 while three or four times that number of people viewed the 
 procession. It was a splendid pageant and one that will not 
 be forgotten. The music of the thirty-eight bands and 
 forty drum corps, the varied uniforms of the various com- 
 mands, the superb banners, the torn battle-fiags, (for several 
 were carried in the ranks) made this an event to live in mem- 
 ory. Doubtless it is the only time the general spectator x.-iYl 
 ever see such a gathering of these old veterans v/ho saved the 
 nation's life. How proudly they marched along, beneath the 
 starry folds of the oM flag for wliicli they endured so many 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAR. 369 
 
 hardships — some of them marching together for the last 
 time until they join the Grand Army above. 
 
 ^' A pleasant and natural feature was an immense camp- 
 ground^ where thousands of veterans occupied tents in the 
 old army st3de. I tell you, boys, it seemed like old times to 
 hear the fellows cutting up. 
 
 '' On Wednesday evening there were splendid fireworks on a 
 hill and a inagnificant reception at the City Hall for those 
 who could get in. It would have done your hearts gooil, 
 boys, to have heard the speeches that night. I must o^uote 
 one or two things that Gov. Eobie said : 
 
 '^ ^In extending to the Grand Army of the Republic the 
 greetings, hospitality and admiration of a grateful state, the 
 gratitude with which our hearts overflow is stimulated by 
 pride, joy and afl'ection, which language fails to describe. 
 We remember your loyalty and admire your achievements. 
 We honor you for the success which accom2:>anied your sacri- 
 fices on the battle-iield and in the naval engagements for 
 this Union. 
 
 " ^The United States i: a country of homes, lovely and de- 
 sirable only by that ownership and contentment which the 
 Goddess of Peace and of Universal Liberty furnishes. Her 
 sovereignty has been secured largely by your intrepidity, 
 tested by the sharp sword, the glittering bayonet and the un- 
 errino- rifle. The life of the Union volunteer has been writ- 
 ten on the page of our country's history in letters of living 
 light. 
 
 ii i -^e read in your countenances, and feel in your presence, 
 the varied experiences of camp life, and the shock of battle with 
 its mighty memories. You have acted nobly your part, and 
 have gained such unfading laurels that it is a high distinction 
 for our state to be honored by your presence. The veteran 
 soldier and sailor did the hard and dangerous work of the war 
 for the smallest compensation, and without a murmur. He 
 is therefore worthy of the highest honor on the pinnacle of 
 
370 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 fame. It is just that on public memorial monuments of brass 
 and marble, he should proudly stand with his gun, sword and 
 knapsack, as the conspicuous figure for the gaze of an admir- 
 ing posterity. He represents that which is noble in manhood, 
 courage and honor, and is known to all men as the savior of 
 the nation. Welcome! thrice welcome! the veteran, volun- 
 teer, private soldier and sailor of the G-rand Army of the Re- 
 public. 
 
 ^•^ ^ And welcome, also, to our heart of hearts the noble and 
 loyal women of our land, who more than all represent the 
 fruit of exalted love and heroic sacrifice, in their gift of hus- 
 band, son and brother on the altar of our common country. 
 
 a ( There are comrades we cannot welcome here today, for 
 many occupy ^^the windowless palace of rest.^^ They have 
 passed the boundary of earth and now live beyond the river, 
 sweetly at peace with all men. Gloriously did many die on 
 the battle-field, on the ocean and in the hospital; thereby ful- 
 filling the highest duty of life, to die for one's country. They 
 cannot join this festival, but their memories are constantly 
 and reverentially with us. We stand by the solemn pledge, 
 as long as life lasts, to read the roll of honor, although silence 
 gives the response, ^' died long ago on the field of battle." We 
 will reverently scatter the earliest flowers of spring upon their 
 hallowed graves. ' 
 
 '' The Governor's address was received with immense enthu- 
 siasm, and to the sentiments he uttered most hearty response 
 was made by the vast audience. I tell you, boys, it was a 
 sweet gift of recompense to have our deeds so gratefully ap- 
 preciated and loved by the pure, cultivated, beautiful women 
 and the noble men there assembled, and to feel that they were 
 simply echoing the heart-beatings of all in our land, whose 
 opinion is worthy of attention. 
 
 '^ Do you know, comrades, I some times think that we didn't 
 really appreciate, at the time, the grandeur of what we were 
 permitted to do in the v^ar for the preservation of liberty? 
 
Gen. John A. Logan. 
 
CAMP-FHIE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 373 
 
 Those Avho volunteered (and that means almost all our north- 
 -ern soldiers) went principally because the manhood in them 
 would not permit absence from the defense of the flag. We 
 could not have been contented at home while disunion 
 was threatening the nation's destruction. Our soldiers 
 generally did not arrogate to themselves to be better than 
 many loyal neighbors who remained at home. We simply 
 went ahead and did our duty for the country and our homes, 
 as best we coukl. And although the duty was hard, with 
 23rivations and trials, with perils and sickness, with sufferings 
 and, to many, death, yet the doing the duty was more desir- 
 able than shrinking it. Veterans! it is no arrogation to say 
 that such action is tlie natural stamina of American charac- 
 ter. It is the fibre of heart and brain, developed in all our 
 real men and women, by years of freedom's inspiration. 
 Easier to do our duty for Our country in danger, than to 
 cravenly shirk from it. 
 
 '^ Our Union was treacherously attacked. We sprang to the 
 rescue instanter; determined with the aid of the God who 
 had always blessed our land, we would preserve our country 
 undivided. After the rebellion had been put down and its 
 armies scattered, and we, who were spared, had returned to 
 our homes, we had mor6 leisure and a better chance to see all 
 that the conflict meant. Succeeding years have brought con- 
 stantly to our notice tlie testimony of humanity throughout 
 the civilized world as to the pre-eminent importance of that 
 war. Liberty had made her stand in America. All the op- 
 pressed of earth were watching our land. If free institutions 
 should fail here, then would the many millions throughout 
 the world, v/lio were more or less enslaved, lose heart. They 
 all would give up freedom, as an impossible thing for them. 
 If liberty could be maintained here, it might enable them 
 so?netime to obtain their ^^inalienable rights of life, liberty 
 :and the pursuit of happiness.'^ Imagine the prayerful joy 
 of suffering hearts across the great seas, when they saw our 
 
374 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL Y^AE. 
 
 loyal nation following the guidance of Providence and remov- 
 ing that great, dark blot on our fair flag, African slavery. 
 And when they saw tlie unparalleled valor of freedom^s adhe- 
 rents steadily winning the mighty conflict, 0, ho^y their nerve 
 and manhood were strengthened! 
 
 " Our successful defense, fellow-soldiers, was not simply 
 that of our own country, but also of the foothold of freedom 
 to mankind. Let liberty be destroyed here, and tyrants and 
 despots would keep her banished from the earth, probably, 
 forever. Let liberty be successfully defended here and estab- 
 lished triumphant, and her deeds and blessings will inevita- 
 bly spread her power and institutions throughout all the 
 world. There have been other wars, some great ones, wars of 
 conquest, wars of pillage, wars of revenge, vrars of defense of 
 national boundaries, but never before, save in oiirown Colum- 
 bia, a war for the defense of universal freedom. 
 
 " So, my victorious and illustrious comrades, the success 
 which heaven granted to our valor is the most important event 
 in all human history; with the single exception of the coming 
 of the Savior of Mankind. And the principle of universal 
 freedom, then and there established, is of more value to hu- 
 manity than any other possibly can be, save only that of per- 
 sonal religion. 
 
 *' Xo wonder, then, that added years only increase the pub- 
 lic appreciation of that pre-eminent service cf Columbia's wai*- 
 riors. No wonder that soldiers are honored everywhere for 
 the part they were privileged to take in preserving freedom's 
 blessings. No wonder the ties that bind together the hearts 
 of veteran soldiers here, form a fraternity unequaled. To the 
 fidelity to each other that was forged in the furnace of war — 
 'the* honor of a soldier' — to the sympathy that passed 
 through the touch of elbows in front of blazing cannon, add 
 a loyalty to freedom that inspired deeds of inestimable value 
 to humanity. A membership in this association cannot be 
 secured by professing, or proposing in the future to do good 
 
CAMI'-FIliL CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 0,0 
 
 deeds. For enrollment here, one must have an honorable 
 record for deeds already done as a loyal soldier. A society 
 founded upon those unexampled achievements of heroism, 
 with their matchless value to the race; a society, whose vital 
 principle is loyalty to freedom, has a most glorious foundation 
 for its existence, and stands absolutely without a peer among 
 the associations or orders of human formation. 
 
 *^ What I have been telling you for a few minutes, comrades, 
 has been a summing up the glorious principles of the Grand 
 Army of the Republic, not only as set forth in their books aud 
 laws, but also, as stated by the eminent men belonging to the 
 order. I started to say ^ great men belonging to the order, ■" 
 but all the comrades are great men in patriotic defense of 
 liberty. The veteran soldiers are the aristocracy of the land. 
 I do not refer to the distinctions which society may try to 
 make suj^reme, or the glitter with which misers of gold may 
 seek to dazzle the people. I mean by aristocracy^ the heroes 
 who have proven the best men in the land — the dauntless 
 hearts, without whose valorous devotion, we would not have 
 to-day a Union, or the world a home for liberty. I mean as 
 the best, those who have done deeds that are the noblest in 
 human annals. 
 
 '* No matter, comrades, if a veteran soldier may be poor in 
 purse, humble in position, perhaps, somewhat ignorant (for 
 hundreds of thousands gave years of their school days to war 
 duties), he has proved the possession of immortal and self- 
 sacrificing courage. He has recorded himself by his deeds as 
 immeasurably superior to the devotees of fashion, or the 
 worshippers of gold. He gave himself a sacrifice for years 
 for his country^s good, a sacrifice with instant death im- 
 minent, or prolonged torture. There may be cavilers who 
 will try to belittle his service, possibly with a view to screen 
 their own lack of his nobility of courage. The crowded par- 
 ticipants in commercial enterprise may forget the pre-eminence 
 of the soldier^s work for freedom, where the events of an 
 
376 CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF Til C CIVIL WAll. 
 
 hour were of more importance to humanity than the money- 
 making of centuries. The cavilers and the hurrying business 
 followers may, in the rush of American life, be guilty of 
 injustice to the veterans, who secured the continuance of our 
 prosperous country. Still, boys, the fact remains (and we 
 know it), that the men who saved the land, are its best 
 •citizens, the truest and grandest aristocracy." 
 
 '^Hurrah!" said the grim sergeant, *^^ that's true. And 
 it is cheering to us to realize that the best people in the 
 'Country know it. They join heartily, not only in honoring 
 our deceased comrades on Memorial day and at other times, 
 but in giving to the living soldiers, before life's march is 
 Glided, abundant testimonial of grateful appreciation and 
 love. 
 
 ^^ But I interrupted the comrade to remind the boys of the 
 incident where President Lincoln decidedly '^took down ' a 
 crowd of pompous moneyed men. 
 
 '^A large delegation of them came down from New York 
 and were introduced to the president, as being worth, in their 
 own right, a hundred millions of dollars. This did not seem 
 to frighten the good man, who listened patiently, while they 
 -asked to have a gun-boat sent up to New York harbor. It 
 was at a time when every vessel and every man on sea and 
 land was imperatively required for pushing the war into the 
 enemy's country. The president told them that fact, and 
 wound up by saying ^ that if he was worth one-fiftieth part 
 as much as they were, and was one-hundredth part as much 
 scared, he'd go right home and build a gun-boat and man it, 
 without trying to bother the poor government.' Said one 
 who was present, ' The way in which they backed out, fur- 
 nished a striking illustration of the infinitessimal insignificance 
 of money bags, by the side of the courage of a few soldiers.' 
 
 '^ Mayor Deering, of Portland," continued the narrator, 
 *^^ followed Governor Robie, with a very eloquent address of 
 welcome. Some grand responses were made by General John 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 377 
 
 S. Koimtz, of Ohio (then commander-in-chief of the G. A. R.) 
 General Alger, of Michigan, General Lucius Fairchild, of 
 Wisconsin, General Henry Wo Slocum, of New York, General 
 John A. Logan, of Illinois, General George T. Anthonj^ of 
 Kansas, Comrade T. B. Reed, General D. R. Austin, of Ohio, 
 Comrade George H. Patch, of Massachusetts, and Comrade 
 Charles A. Boutelle, of Maine. 
 
 ^*^ As opportunity permits, I propose to quote some of their 
 eloquent words, as stating so well what the Grand Army of 
 the Republic is, and what it teaches and accomplishes. Not 
 to hinder you too long this evening, I want to speak of one or 
 two things done by the Encampment. 
 
 " A telegram of sympathy and affection was sent to General 
 Grant, who was slowly dying at Mt. McGregor, N. Y., and 
 the following reply — his last words to his Grand Army — was 
 telegraphed by his son. Colonel F. D. Grant : 
 
 ^' ' General Grant directs me, in reply to your dispatch, to 
 tender, through you to each one of the three hundred thou- 
 sand veterans, his comrades,, now represented at Portland, his 
 thanks for their interest in his health and welfare. General 
 Grant wishes to take this occasion to also thank them for 
 their splendid services, which have resulted in giving freedom 
 to a race, peace to a continent and a haven to the oppressed 
 of the world. 
 
 '' The case of Mother Bickerdyck, the grand old army nurse, 
 so dear to tens of thousands of soldiers, was mentioned. She 
 had declined aid from the Department of California, where 
 she lives, and was in need. Promptly the Encampment 
 voted a donation of five hundred dollars to that good angel of 
 comfort to such multitudes of sufferers. She saved thousands 
 of lives. 
 
 '^ No official action was necessary in regard to that other 
 eminent army nurse, Mrs. Anna Wittenmeyer, of Philadel- 
 p?iia. Yet in the quiet social talks many a comrade spoke 
 with the most hearty eloquence of the inestimable good this 
 
SiS CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAR. 
 
 noble woman did. She had passes from President Lincoln, 
 Secretary of War Stanton and General Grant to go anywhere 
 and everywhere in the lines, and make such arrangements as 
 she chose for relief of the sick and wounded in hospitals, or 
 on the battle field. She put in operation the Diet Kitchens, 
 which employed nearly three hundred ladies, and revolution- 
 ized the plan of hospital cooking in the entire army. 
 
 '^^ During the discussions of the Encampment there was 
 brought out the fact that the entire Grand Army of the Re- 
 public now recognizes Dr. B. F. Stephenson, of Illinois, as 
 the founder of the Order. 
 
 ^' One important subject came up, and was very thoroughly 
 discussed. In Tennessee and some other Southern States ap- 
 plications were constantly being made for membership in the 
 Grand Army of the Eepublic from veterans who, before they 
 were in the Union army, had been forced by conscription to 
 join the rebels. They never fired against the Union soldiers 
 or the flag, and deserted to the Northern army on the first 
 opportunity. 
 
 ^^But they can not join the Grand Army. Any one who 
 has worn the rebel grey can never wear the G. A. E. badge. 
 I haven't time to tell you, boys, tonight of the grand elo- 
 quence with which these principles were stated for which we 
 fought. Treason cannot be palliated. Those who ever aided 
 at all, voluntarily or not, are, on earth, forever separated 
 from the loyal soldiers who put it down. 
 
 *'Tlie strength of the Grand Army of the Republic on 
 March 31, 1885, was 5,059 posts and 275,218 members. 
 
 ^'Gen. Samuel S. Burdette, of Washington, D. C, was 
 elected Commander-in-chief.'' 
 
CAMP-FIRE XXXIX. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG — THE TRIP TO CALIFORNIA 
 
 THE WONDERFUL SCENERY IN COLORADO — RECEPTION OF 
 THE G. A. R. AT SAN FRANCISCO — BUSINESS OF THE 
 ENCAMPMENT. 
 
 ft ROM Maine to California, is quite a jump, boys," 
 ^ said the comrade-historian, ^^but as the Grand Army 
 took it, the narrative must follow also. 
 
 *• Every comrade of the G-. A. R. had known for months of 
 the magniiicent preparations made at San Francisco to honor 
 the old soldiers. The local committee had sent, at their own 
 expense of thousands of dollars for postage alone, letters and 
 circulars with interesting information to every one of the over 
 5,000 posts. 
 
 ^"^The great majority of the veterans passed through Chi- 
 cago, with a stop for a visit to that wonderful city. Time 
 forbids me to try to speak of the results seen on all sides, of 
 the ceaseless enterprise of that wide-awake metroi^olis. But 
 I should wrong every soldier if I failed to mention those 
 three magnificent war panoramas and battle presentations, 
 Gettysburg, Mission Ridge and Lookout Mountain, and 
 Shiloh. You will not believe, except by your own sight, 
 what a realistic reproduction is there given. Part of the 
 panorama is made from actual earth brought from the battle 
 field. In the one of Shiloh, is a wooden house that stood on 
 the fighting field. The canvass painting is so joined to 
 actual objects that the point of union cannot be discerned. 
 You. are supposed to stand on a prominent point near the 
 middle of the field, and all around the battle appears. As a 
 grim veteran said, as he enthusiastically pointed his single 
 arm: 'It only needs the racket to make it the real battle.' 
 
 379 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 381 
 
 '^ As Gettysburg was not only the most important battle of 
 the war (as having broken the backbone of the Rebellion), but 
 of all history, it commands universal attention. An enor- 
 mous number of people visit the panorama. I secured as an 
 especial favor some pictures which the panorama affords of 
 the battle. These pictures are not mere fancy sketches, but 
 are correct rej^roductions of the occurrences represented. 
 Weeks of study and survey on the battle field, with the aid of 
 hundreds of Generals and soldiers from both sides, enable the ac- 
 curate presentation of the deeds and men in that awful carnage, 
 even to incidental details. You have there the best of history. 
 
 '' And now, boys, we leave Chicago. Of the beautiful ride 
 for two days and nights, through Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska. 
 and in Colorado to Denver (a distance of 1,024 miles) I must 
 not tarry to speak. Nor of the beautiful and wonderful city 
 Denver, with upwards of 50,000 inhabitants. Neither of a. 
 thrilling visit to Colorado Springs and Manitou, seventy- 
 five miles south from Denver, at the foot of Pikers Peak, 
 with valuable medicinal springs and a score of wonderful lo- 
 calities. Through all this section, the dry, clear, cool and 
 exhilirating air braces one up wonderfully. 
 
 "Pushing westward, in the narrow guage cars, (one train 
 per day each way) in a few hours we reach the amazing scen- 
 ery of the Rocky Mountains. The road built through this 
 has justly given to the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad its re- 
 nown as 'the scenic route of the world. "* The track is laid 
 along the bank of the Arkansas river, which runs through 
 canons. A narrow valley is flanked on each side by rocky 
 hills and mountains, sometimes in precipices from 1,000 ta 
 3,000 feet high. The passage is occasionally so narrow that 
 it becomes a mere fissure through the heights. Far above 
 the road the sky forms a deep, blue arch of light, but in the 
 cafion, or gorge, hang dark and somber shades which the 
 sun^s rays have never penetrated. The place is a measureless 
 gulf of air, with solid walls on either side. 
 
382 CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAE. 
 
 ^' No flowers grow nor do birds live in this solitude. After 
 passing through the Grand Canon, the narrowest part of 
 which is called the Eoyal Gorge, we come to a remarkable 
 pathway over the mountain, named Marshall Pass. Two en- 
 gines pull the train in a winding course up steep grades and 
 around sharp curves, climbing the sides of the mountains, 
 aud often passing snow banks, till in an hour's time we are at 
 the summit, 10,858 feet above the sea. We then begin the 
 descent on the other side, a ride full of magnificent scenery ; 
 the train sometimes runuing on the verge of sheer precipices. 
 Before long the Black Canon of the Gunnison is reached. 
 It is grander, deeper, darker and yet more beautiful than the 
 one we recently left. 
 
 ''^ After traveling over a hundred miles we begin the steep 
 ascent of the Wasatch mountains, passing through Castle 
 Gate, which guards the entrance to Price Kiver Canon. There 
 stand two huge pillars, or ledges of rock, which are offshoots 
 of the cliffs behind. One measures 500 feet, the other 450 feet 
 from top to base. You can judge, boys, how attractive that 
 scenery was, when I tell you that I rode for ten hours that 
 day and evening on the platform of the car, so as to see it. 
 From Denver to Salt Lake City is 735 miles, requiring nearly 
 two days and nights of traveling. 
 
 ^^ The capital city of Utah is a most beautiful place of over 
 25,000 inhabitants ; having broad, straight, level streets, 
 shaded on both sides, eighty feet wide between the sidewalks 
 and twenty feet of sidewalk on each side, with running brooks 
 of clean water dancing along by the curb stone. The Grand 
 Army Post of the city hired the large rink and set tables of 
 ample provisions all day, free to all comrades and friends 
 with them. Every evening an immense camp fire was held 
 and most eloquent addresses were given by comrades from all 
 parts. The Mormon iniquity received a liberal scoring. 
 The comrades there say they are living in a ' hell on earth/ 
 and asked that the whole country might be aroused to re- 
 
The Royal Gorge. 
 
 383 
 
384 CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 move the great blot of polygamy. Everybody visited the- 
 Tabernacle, which seats 12,000 people. Also the new and 
 unfinished Temple, begun thirty years ago, that w^ill cost sev- 
 eral millions of dollars. And nearly all took a bath in the 
 Salt Lake, with its astonishing buoyancy of water. 
 
 ^' From Salt Lake City to Ogden is thirty-six miles, and 
 from there to San Francisco, 895 miles ; a ride of two nights 
 and a day. A portion of this time was sj^ent in passing 
 through as desolate a desert of sage brush and sand, as could 
 'be well imagined. When the Sierras are reached there is 
 plenty of splendid scenery. There are drawbacks in having 
 to pass through forty-six miles of snoAv sheds (thirty-six miles- 
 continuous), but yet we see enough to keep us filled with ad- 
 miration. 
 
 *^Just as the train was leaving Sacramento four men robbed 
 an Ohio comrade of 1150, and jumping off, made their es- 
 cape. The comrade was an old man, of over seventy years, 
 who had his wife with him. He had borrowed a part of the 
 money that they might come out and hunt up their long lost 
 son. They were left penniless and overwhelmed with dismay 
 and grief. A New York comrade enlisted two others with 
 him and w^ent through the train. and raised $114, and gave it 
 to the old veteran — a practical illustration of what Fraterni- 
 ty means in the Grand Army. 
 
 '^At last we are at San Francisco — the end of a journey of 
 2,690 miles from Chicago and 3,666 from New York City. 
 
 '*0n landing at the foot of Market street, the first thing 
 that impressed one was the prodigality of decoration. Every 
 building displayed flags, banners, G. A. R. badges, and patri- 
 otic emblems and drapery. • Many were literally covered with 
 these insignia of Columbia's greatness. Single business firms 
 must have spent hundreds of dollars. At the top of the Mar- 
 ket street grade stood a stupendous arch — seemingly of 
 granite — erected in honor of the Grand Army and orna- 
 mented by appropriate military figures. On going around 
 
CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 385 
 
 the city one soon discovered that not only were all the busi- 
 ness streets handsomely decorated, but also many parts of the 
 residence j^ortion of the city. The location of ^Frisco on a 
 hill made the display especially effective, Avdiich had been 
 beautifully arranged by he) more than 300,000 inhabitants. 
 
 ^•^In the parade on Tnesday, August 3, fully 20,000 veter- 
 ans marched in line, with scores of bands and drum corps, 
 while over a third of a million of people viewed the steady 
 tramp, tramp, tramp, and cheered themselves hoarse with 
 enthusiastic greeting. A part of the way young ladies rode 
 in advance and strewed the street with flowers. 
 
 " To every soldier wearing the badge of the Grand Army 
 the entire city were ready to take off their hats, and consid- 
 ered it a pleasure to do so. Did a comrade desire information 
 he had only to ask, and fullest replies were given with a cor- 
 diality as if inspired by years of friendship. Business men, 
 iind all citizens seemed eager to do anything to make the 
 soldiers^ visit pleasant. They were not obtrusive and for- 
 ward, to annoy strangers, but held themselves, with well-bred 
 politeness, always ready to do deeds of kindness and welcome. 
 Ask in a business house the distance and direction to a certain 
 street, and the proprietor would clap on his hat and walk to 
 the corner, or even several blocks, in order to show you the 
 easiest and quickest way. They seemed to have given up 
 their time to the entertainment of their guests, and appeared 
 glad of an opportunity to do a favor for a soldier. 
 
 *'The ladies — and they are very beautiful in California ; 
 the climate, or something, seeming to make them unusually 
 lovely — often forgot the ceremony with which they usually 
 hedge themselves, and accepted the veterans' badge as a 
 wholesale introduction. A limp or a scar was a j)atent of 
 nobility, and an empty sleeve or a wooden leg, an emblem 
 of royalty. At this distance from that glowing welcome, it 
 may seem to you, comrades, to be an exaggeration for me 
 to try to tell you the simple truth of their attention to our 
 
386 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 happiness. But the most gloAving words that any one can 
 command will fall far short of the reality of their grateful 
 regard, everywhere shown, for the nation's defenders. They 
 are enthusiastic over there and in the habit of doing things 
 on a grand scale when they choose. They had not seen the 
 Grand Army on that coast, when gathered in its magnificent 
 strength. They wanted the boys to come. 
 
 ^'A year previous, at Portland, a prominent California com- 
 rade spoke of the great desire in that state fo?* the soldiers to 
 visit them. Thousands of veterans had gone there since the 
 war to live. One Post alone (Geo. H. Thomas, No. 'Z, of San 
 Francisco), had members of 532 different regiments, and with 
 two exceptions, no two men belonged to the same regiment. 
 That fact illustrates why the comrades wanted a reunion with 
 the members of their old regiments, their old companies, and 
 with the men that fought side by side with them on the field 
 of battle and in our navy. His remarks seemed at the time 
 to be rather enthusiastic and figurative, but he told the truth. 
 We found that his figures were backed by an appropriation of 
 125,000 from the state, $5,000 from the city and 175,000 from 
 the citizens' subscriptions ; supplemented by over $25,000 ex- 
 pended by the Posts and associate societies, not to speak of 
 the scores of thousands of dollars lavished in private hospital- 
 ity. San I rancisco undoubtedly gave over a quarter of mill- 
 ion of dollars to honoring and entertaining the Grand Army, 
 in addition to all they spent for decorations. 
 
 " Here is what the California comrade said at Portland 
 about the people's desires in California: 
 
 " 'A million people of California, wearing their hearts upon 
 their hands, with the strings of their purses unloosed, speak 
 in thunder-tones through me today, ''Come to San Fran- 
 cisco.'' And, without seeking to make a figure of speech, I 
 will tell you, boys, if you elect to come to that city of our 
 Golden State, the heroes of our last war shall walk through 
 the streets of that city on pavements strewn with roses. 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 387 
 
 [Laughter and applause.] The people are ready for you; the 
 people want you; their arms are wide open; the latch-string 
 is- hanging on the outside of their door; the children in the 
 streets go crying for the members of the Grand Army of the 
 Eepublic. [Loud laughter and applause.] JSTo woman, no 
 child, no man, no boy, but his heart is filled with enthusiastic 
 interest for the comrades of the Grand Army of the Eepub- 
 lic.^ [Applause.] 
 
 ^' The comrade was right, boys. I repeat, that what he 
 said at Portland was true, and it was a very happy choice the 
 Grand Army made in going to California for the Twentieth 
 Encampment . 
 
 ^' In the parade a number of the old war flags were carried; 
 and as the tattered remnants, riddled witli bullets and rent 
 with the storm of battle, passed along, there were plentiful 
 tears in manly eyes, as well as in those of beautiful women. The 
 silent story that the shattered banners told of labor, suifer- 
 ing, danger and deatli, and of unequaled valor in defense of 
 the dear old flag — their mute appeal touched hundreds of 
 thousands of hearts. And the boys felt, as they marched 
 through those packed streets, that the hardships of war re- 
 ceived a compensation in the grateful homage of a united 
 and happy people. As the bright sun, passing down beyond 
 the Pacific, marked the close of that great and happy day, 
 hundreds of thousands of hearts had been drawn out to a 
 closer sympathy, and to a grander appreciation of valor and 
 sacrifice. They gained a higher love for the glorious land 
 that is a beacon-light of liberty to the human race. 
 
 '''On Tuesday evening there was a grand night-parade and 
 an escort of the Encampment to Mechanic's Pavilion (capable 
 of seating 12,000 people). A dazzling feature of the j^rocession 
 was a pyrotechnic display by the Topeka (Kansas) Flambeau 
 Club, of eighty men, who fired off rockets, Roman candles, 
 and other fireworks, as they marched along (they m.eanwhile 
 drilling in military evolutions). A grand reception was held 
 
388 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAll. 
 
 there, with eloquent speeches by the governor, the mayor, 
 and by leading Grand iVrmy of the Eepublic orators. I am not 
 going to stop now to try to tell you what they said. There is 
 so much to mention of what the people did, to make that 
 week the grandest reception that has ever been given to any 
 body of men. 
 
 " Wednesday, August 4, was clear, cool and delightful, as 
 were all the days. They have two seasons: the wet, from 
 about October to April, and the dry, from April to October. 
 We were there in the time when they don't have any anxiety 
 about the weather's interfering with festivities. Occasionally 
 a fog comes up for a short time (serving to remind o± that 
 ^ew York luxury) but passes harmlessly away. To those 
 who come from the regions of blizzards and scorchers — from 
 changes of thermometer, ranging from 100 and 110 above, to 
 10, 20, 30 and 40 degrees below zero — the climate of Cal- 
 ifornia seems wonderful. The average on the coast, at latitude 
 37, is 46° in January, and 69*^ in July. The trade winds 
 from off the Pacific ocean preserve a delightful coolness. 
 This coolness (only in the air, not in the people) was more 
 than the boys expected, and I heard some of them say, they 
 were not really warm Avhile in the city, except when getting 
 near a fire. It looked odd to see the ladies wearing furs in 
 August. 
 
 ''The Californians are proud of the climate, and I don't 
 blame them. Some of our comrades, who were always 
 inquiring the prices of things, said the people charged from 
 #500 to $1,000 per acre for the climate, and threw the land in. 
 
 ''At ten o'clock Wednesday, a. m., the three hundred un- 
 fortunate comrades who were delegates to the Encampment, 
 had to shut themselves up in a hall and go to discussing and 
 fixing up business details. The vast majority (and estimates 
 of the number of comrades and relatives crossing the Kocky 
 mountains on this excursion, vary from ten to fifteen thou- 
 >sand — over five hundred registering at Illinois department 
 
CAMP-FIllE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAll. 380 
 
 headquarters in the city) were free, however, to enjoy the 
 hixuries spread out before them. The general feature of 
 AVednesday was an excursion by rail through the Sonoma 
 valley, 83 miles north, to Cloverdale; stopping on return at 
 Santa Rosa for a grand barbecue and reception by the citizens 
 there. And it luas grand. The feast provided was more than 
 could be eaten, as their delicious fruits interfered with the 
 boys' former army success as devourers. It was a marvel 
 that so small a place as Santa Rosa (4,000 people) could provide 
 such abundance. It must be borne in mind that California is 
 not so thickly settled as the Xew England or Middle States. 
 Santa Rosa and Petaluma (5,000) are the only villages on this 
 route that exceed about a thousand inhabitants. Only two 
 or three of the latter. 
 
 *'0n Wednesday evening there was a splendid concert at 
 Mechanic's Pavillion, largely of jDatriotic music, given by 
 1,000 voices, with fine orchestra. While close on to 15,000 
 people were present, more than that number were turned 
 away from the doors. 
 
 '^ On Thursday, August 5, there was a raib'oad excursion 
 south, eighty miles, to Santa Cruz (5,000), on the ocean, and 
 to the Big Trees (twenty acres of redwood trees, from ten to 
 eighteen feet in diameter) Another big barbecue and recep- 
 tion at Santa Cruz. 
 
 " On Thursday evening there was a general reception at the 
 Mechanic's Pavillion; also a grand banquet to the Encamp- 
 ment — the best, without exception, that has ever been given 
 to the Grand Army. 
 
 ^^On Friday, August 6, there were two excursions, one to 
 Monterey, California's greatest watering place, about a hun- 
 dred miles south, with its big Hotel-del-Monte, and the other, 
 eighty miles north, on the North Pacific Coast Railway. 
 
 '' On Eriday evening, the national convention of the 
 Woman's Relief Corps, gave (at the spacious Metropolitan 
 Temple) a magnificent reception to the National Encamp- 
 
390 CAMP-FIBE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 ment, the Society of the Army of the Potomac, the Loyal 
 Legion, and all kindred societies. I wish there were more 
 time to quote to you from the glorious speeches there. The 
 ladies had made the immense hall a perfect fairyland of flowers 
 and beauty, and all the orators were inspired to excel them- 
 selves. 
 
 '^On Saturday, August 7, there was an immense excursion 
 on steamers around the bay of San Francisco. Everyone 
 went, as the National Encampment closed its business session 
 Friday, p. m. 
 
 ''On Saturday evening was held at the Pavilion, probably,, 
 the grandest camp-fire ever known anywhere. Tables were 
 set for over 5,000 at a time. None but veterans were admitted 
 to the lower floor; all friends (who were fortunate enough ta 
 get in) having to take the galleries. More than ample pro- 
 visions were supplied (and it took a good deal), including 
 beans, hard tack and coffee. The vets appropriated (as was 
 expected) the tin cups and wooden plates, and tied them to their 
 buttons, as in days of yore. You can imagine, boys, what 
 fun nearly ten thousand old soldiers would have at such a 
 camp-fire as that. There was some speaking, of course, but 
 more quiet talks, stories, humor and army drolleries, and, to 
 wind up with, singing the old war songs, by the whole crowd. 
 And didn't they sing! Why! boys, it would have stirred the- 
 blood of a wooden Indian to have heard the boys then. 
 
 ''A great deal of singing was done, in both going out and 
 coming back on the railroad, and at all the excursions and 
 meetings. The Modoc Club, of Topeka, Kansas, twenty gen- 
 tlemen, who are splendid singers, were everywhere in demand. 
 Also Chaplain Lozier, of Iowa, who had just issued a very fine 
 book, and Col. Redington, of New York, the soldier-poet 
 and composer, whose songs are so well known. Major Hen- 
 dershot, the celebrated ' drummer-boy ' of the war-time, f u r- 
 nished stirring music with the drum presented to him by Horace 
 Greeley. Comrade Redington was invited to conduct a social 
 
CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 391 
 
 hour of song of the old war songs on Sunday afternoon. It 
 was held at Irving Hall, largely attended and highly enjoyed. 
 The power of song and its value in strengthening loyalty is 
 more appreciated than ever in all sections of the Grand Army, 
 as well as throughout the nation. 
 
 '' During this brilliant reception-week there were many in- 
 teresting occasions and gatherings on not so large a scale. 
 Every evening there were from four to twelve receptions, wel- 
 come meetings and re-unions, held by posts, state soldiers, 
 prisoners of war, regiments, etc., etc. During the day post 
 and relief corps halls were kept open and refreshments served 
 (to the extent of a hearty feast) free to every veteran. One 
 day the Seven Pines Ladies' Loyal League (now the Ladies of 
 the G. A. K.) fed, between 12 and 3 o'clock, nearly one 
 thousand soldiers and relatives with a substantial and splendid 
 banquet. Different Pacific Coast states, cities, counties and 
 localities had headquarters in the city, where were displayed 
 interesting and wonderful fruits, products and curiosities; 
 open day and evening, and generously furnishing refresh- 
 ments free to all soldiers and relatives. Generals Sherman 
 and Logan were often entrapped into speeches, which were 
 received with immense enthusiasm. They and Generals Fair- 
 child, Burdette, Payne and others were besieged for their 
 autographs. Bands often gave concerts on the streets ; fire- 
 works were displayed ; some of the theaters and places of 
 amusement furnished free admission to veterans. All that 
 abundant money, unremitting labor and attention, liberal and 
 splendid humanity and lavishly generous hospitality could 
 possibly do was thoroughly done for their guests with a charm- 
 ing cordiality and kindness. That week will stand out in the 
 memory of every Grand Army visitor as a bright oasis amid 
 the cares of life — a fairy time of beauty and joy. 
 
 '* The business transacted by the Encampment was mostly 
 of the usual routine character. Gen. Lucius Fairchild, of 
 Wisconsin, was elected Commander-in-Chief. The member- 
 
392 CAMP-fiRE CHATS OF 'illE CIVIL WAK. 
 
 ship on March 31, 1886, was reported 326,499 in the thirty- 
 eight departments, a gain of 56,805 during the year. 
 
 ^^ Perhaps the item of the most importance generally was 
 the action taken against the Mormons, of which I will try to 
 speak at our next chat; also of some other interesting points. 
 I will only take time this evening to tell of the Oakland and 
 the San Jose receptions. 
 
 ''Oakland, with thirty thousand people, across the bay 
 five miles from ^Frisco, is called the ' Athens of the Pacific 
 Coast.' Monday, August 9. was 'Oakland Day ' for honor- 
 ing the Grand Army. AYe found there the decorations plen- 
 tiful and in great variety. A grand parade was held, second 
 only to that in San Francisco. Everywhere were decorations, 
 people, enthusiasm. On turning one of the corners the col- 
 umn marched between two solid masses of fifteen hundred 
 school children, waving flags and throwing flowers — yes, 
 whole boquets in the pathway of the old heroes. Boys, you 
 wont think it strange when I tell you there wasn't a dry eye 
 among the veterans there ; while down many bronzed cheeks 
 that never quailed in front of blazing rifles, rolled big tears. 
 Marching over hundreds of yards carpeted with flowers, half 
 a dozen or more inches thick, with the sweet voices of those 
 beautiful, earnest children singing grateful praises. Ah ! 
 comrades, it was nearer heaven than any spot before. It 
 brought to mind that Gen. Grant, in his whole life, was said 
 to have been overcome by his feelings but twice ; once at the 
 death of a valued friend on the battlefield, and the second 
 time by his reception by the school children of Oakland. 
 
 ''During all day the Posts and associate societies kept three 
 splendid banquets open in different halls — free to every sol- 
 dier and friends. In the evening the Topeka Flambeau Club 
 gave a splendid pyrotechnic display, and camp-fires and re- 
 ceptions were held in several halls. 
 
 '' Tuesday, August 10th, was 'San Jose Day.' Several 
 special trains took thousands of excursionists fifty miles 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 393 
 
 south, througli a magnificent country. On arrival, tlie same 
 most royal welcome was met. Free carriages (and the same 
 for use as desired through the day) for all, a banquet that 
 seemed a little better than almost any other, and the most 
 beautiful ladies one can ever see, dispensing the hospitalities 
 in a charming manner. The city (18,000) was handsomely 
 decorated. Speeches were made, of course, and lots of sing- 
 ing done, in the park and everywhere. The Daughters of 
 Veterans kept open house at their headquarters, and dispensed 
 delightful hospitality. Their beautiful appearance, in their 
 neat uniform, pleased everyone. They gave in the evening 
 an entertainment and exhibition drill at Horticultural Hall — 
 which was pronounced by the ^*^ vets" to be the very best in 
 America. 
 
 '' The Horticultural Fair of the county was in progress, and 
 the veteran's badge proved a free pass to enter and see the 
 wonderful fruits and products. The county has five hundred 
 artesian wells (three hundred within five miles of San Jose), 
 which are run mostly by wind-mills, and furnish ample irri- 
 gation. 
 
 '^In the evening the Posts of the city held a grand camp- 
 fire and reception. And as the boys reviewed that day of 
 rare enjoyment they all agreed that there seemed to be some- 
 thing in the good people there that gave San Jose hospitality 
 a peculiar charm, certain to be always gratefully remem- 
 bered. 
 
 ^'Now, boys, join with me and sing (in the tune Home, 
 Sweet Home), this verse to California : 
 
 "California, the beautiful, the golden and the grand, 
 
 Our hearts are filled with tenderness toward all in your fair land ; 
 
 You met the strangers from afar, with welcome, hearty, true. 
 
 Your bannered streets, and gorgeous halls, appeared like fairy view. 
 
 Fair land of generous souls, 
 
 While life remains our hearts will beat with gratitude to you." 
 
CAMP-FIRE XL. 
 
 liACRAMEN"TO AKD OTHER CITIES HON^OR THE G. A. R. — THE 
 LADIES OF THE GRAl^TD ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC— THE 
 
 WOMAJf^S RELIEF CORPS — THE SOIL'S OF VETERAI^"S 
 
 — THE DAUGHTERS OF VETERAN'S — THE NATIOl^^'S GRATE- 
 FUL LOVE FOR THE GRA:N^D ARMY. 
 
 JIE Capital City of the Golden State/' remarked the 
 returned comrade, "had in store a surprising welcome 
 for all soldiers, and their friends with them, who landed at 
 the depot about 6 p. m. The boys had been almost spoiled 
 with feasting during the day. Leaving 'Frisco on Wednes- 
 day, August 11, at 7:30 a. m,. a ride of forty-six miles ter- 
 minated in a halt of two hours at Napa, a beautiful city of 
 five thousand population. There must have been three times 
 that number to meet us, who had prepared a splendid ban- 
 quet under the trees, crowned by wagon-loads of matchless 
 fruit. Such grapes, pears, apples, plums and peaches we 
 don't see east. Even delicious strawberries (a second crop) 
 were furnished to us. 
 
 A ride of eighteen miles brought us to St. Helena, with 
 about two thousand five hundred people, where we went 
 through again with a similar programme. Then about 
 seventy-five miles more of railroading brought us to Sacra- 
 mento, a city of about thirty thousand inhabitants. At least 
 twice that number was on hand to greet the veterans. Free 
 carriages, free street cars (all reserved for the soldiers with 
 badges and the friends with them) soon transported all to the 
 mammoth pavilion of the State Agricultural Society. Tables 
 had been set for two thousand, and spread with a banquet 
 that is seldom equaled. One Department Chaplain said he 
 
 394 
 
CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 395 
 
 had attended a good many five-dollar spreads not equal to 
 that. The tables were charmingly waited on by some of the 
 loveliest of cultured ladies. The hospitality proved almost a 
 fairy scene of generosity and brilliancy, and will be a bright 
 spot in the memory of every one who was present. " 
 
 ''After the banquet at the Pavilion the Governor held a re- 
 ception at the State House. The Topeka Flambeau Club also 
 gave a marching exhibition of fire works. 
 
 ''At all receptions wine was furnished for those who 
 wished it, literally as free as water. And yet, such was the 
 trusty character of the comrades that at no time during the 
 Encampment, was there any intoxication ; a fact mentioned 
 by the daily press with a surprised commendation. That 
 night all the visitors were lodged free, at private houses, 
 hotels and boarding houses. The next day they were carried 
 to visit all places of interest and fed while they remained. 
 
 "From Sacramento some of the comrades returned directly 
 to the east. The majority, however, went back to San Fran- 
 cisco. On Saturday, August 14, a large number took an ex- 
 cursion 483 miles south, to Los Angeles (15,000) — where was 
 another huge reception with the same grand hospitality. 
 
 "I wish there was time, boys, to tell you about the smaller 
 receptions by posts, societies and individuals, after our return 
 to San Francisco. Also of the grand ride on the Pacific 
 Ocean by steamer, 550 miles north to the mouth of the 
 Columbia river, and then a hundred miles up that stream, 
 with its river scenery unequaled in grandeur, to Portland, 
 Oregon. Fifteen miles from the mouth of the river we 
 stopped an hour at Astoria (SjOOt)), the headquarters of the 
 great salmon-canning industry. Portland is a fine city of 
 25,000 inhabitants, with splendid streets and business blocks. 
 
 "From Portland to St. Paul is 1,912 miles over the excel- 
 lently equipped Northern Pacific Eailroad, and through a 
 more interesting and productive country than some of the 
 desert wilds we traversed on the Central Pacific Railroad, 
 
396 CAMP-FIKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 '' Our return trip from San Fi'ancisco to Chicago has cov- 
 ered 2,971 miles — nearly 300 more than the outward run. 
 
 " Before I undertake to tell other interesting things about 
 the California Encampment, I must first speak of the societies 
 of relatives and friends of the veterans of the G. A. E., 
 who are organized to assist in the good work of charity and 
 loyalty, in which the Grand Army leads. There are three 
 associations of ladies and one of gentlemen. 
 
 ''I mention first. Ladies of the Grand Army of Eepublic.''' 
 
 '^Why," interrupted the sergeant, "I never heard that 
 name before. What kind of a history are you giving us? I 
 thought they were called th^' Relief Corps." 
 
 '^1 am not now speaking," said the narrator, *'^of that 
 excellent association, the Woman's Relief Corps, but of a 
 different society. As I tell you the facts I have taken con- 
 siderable pains to verify, you will see why the name is new to 
 many, though the association itself, the Ladies of the Grand 
 Army of the Republic, is the oldest patriotic organization of 
 ladies that is now at work . 
 
 *' In the year 1869 some of the relatives of veterans of the 
 war in the State of Maine formed a ladies' society. Their ob- 
 ject was to aid in any way in their power, the old soldiers in 
 the work of caring for needy soldiers and their families, or the 
 widows and orphans of veterans. Also in teaching to the 
 young a genuine loyalty, and in stimulating all the people to 
 the truest devotion to country. They called themselves the 
 Relief Corps of the State of Maine, and none were admitted 
 as members but the mothers, wives, sisters and daughters of 
 soldiers or sailors. We all remember, boys, how in the war 
 we prized what these dear relatives of ours did for our cheer 
 and comfort. How their faith, and love and prayers acted as 
 a nerve to every one of our hearts. So I needn't take much 
 time to say that these noble women did a quiet, gentle work 
 of love and cheer, that was of great aid to the Grand Army 
 boys in Maine. They continued their work quietly, without 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAR. 307 
 
 attempting to spread their names and deeds throughout the 
 nation. Consequently many of the Grand Army did not know 
 of the great help that woman^s gentle hand and warm heart of 
 love could afford. 
 
 " The success of this organization of ladies in Maine, demon- 
 strated, however, that here was a mighty ally of the Grand 
 Army's best work. As a result there was formed at the time 
 of the Seventeenth National Encampment of the G. A. R. at 
 Denver, in 1883, the society of the Woman's Relief Corps — 
 now a very powerful organization. They took the name that 
 the Maine ladies had, but altered the requirement of relation- 
 ship to soldiers, and voted to receive as members any respec- 
 table loyal ladies. As the ladies of the Relief Corps of the 
 State of Maine have now formed a part of the Ladies of the 
 Grand Army of the Republic, I have mentioned this society 
 first, inasmuch as their existence began some fourteen years 
 before the Woman's Relief Corps. At various times subse- 
 quent to 1869 the mothers, wives, daughters and sisters of the 
 soldiers organized into societies at different points, under the 
 name of the Ladies' Loyal League, the membership being the 
 strongest in the States of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Ohio, 
 West Virginia, Kansas and California. They admitted none 
 as members but actual relatives of soldiers. 
 
 '^ Early in the year 1885 this union of the relatives of soldiers 
 was commenced in the great State of Illinois. Mrs. Edward 
 Roby, of Chicago, who had lost a husband and four brothers 
 in the war, and who had been actively engaged herself in war 
 hospital work, and since that time for good to the soldiers, 
 took hold of the matter with her accustomed zeal and wisdom. 
 She procured a State charter for the Ladies of the Grand 
 Army of the Republic, and soon this society was accomplish- 
 ing a noble work in the great State which gave the country a 
 Lincoln, a Grant, and a Logan. 
 
 ^*^In November, 1886, a national convention was held in. 
 Chicago of all the three associations of soldiers' relatives, the- 
 
398 CAMP-PIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 State Relief Corps of Maine, the Ladies' Loyal League, and 
 the Ladies of the Grand Army of the Republic. At tl^is con- 
 vention, the name for the united societies was adopted, the 
 Ladies of the Grand Army of the Republic — that beautiful 
 title so felicitously chosen first in a western state. Therefore, 
 this association of the Ladies of the Grand Army of the Re- 
 public is the oldest ladies' loyal organization, though not the 
 largest, as its membership does not exceed ten thousand. 
 
 '* They are not an auxiliary to the Grand Army. Their 
 platform and resolutions distinctly state that fact, and that 
 they hold themselves free to act wherever they choose, and as 
 they choose, in doing good to the soldiers and their families, 
 •or widows, or orphans. Their relationship to the comrades 
 •of the Grand Army of the Republic is sufficient glory and 
 recognition for them. 
 
 ' 'Another active principle with them is to aid in increasing 
 genuine loyalty in our land. They want patriotism taught to 
 our young, as well as all our citizens. They secure the more 
 frequent use of patriotic songs and reading among the child- 
 ren in all our schools. In many places, they have secured in 
 every school what is called ''Grand Army Day,'' where the 
 Priday afternoon before Decoration Day is exclusively given 
 to patriotic exercises. 
 
 " The national president of the Ladies of the Grand Army 
 •of the Republic is Mrs. Laura McNeir, of Camden, N. J., a 
 fine writer and a very eloquent speaker. They who were the 
 chief officers of the separate organizations (before union into 
 one) insisted on taking subordinate positions, and were 
 elected as follows: Senior vice-president, Mrs. Charles W. 
 'Gerwig, Allegheny, Penn.; junior vice-president, Mrs. Whit- 
 man Sawyer, Portland, Me.; national counsellor, Mrs. Ed- 
 ward Roby, Chicago; national corresponding secretaries, Mrs. 
 M. M. Hall, San Francisco, Cal., Mrs. Libbie N. Butcher, 
 Parkersburg, W. Va., Mrs. Philip Gunlock, Chicago, Mrs. 
 -Major Gen. 0. Edwards, Warsaw, 111., Mrs. Ida L. Gainer, 
 
CAMP-riKE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 399 
 
 McAlister, I. T.; Chief of Council of Administration, Mrs. 
 Major Gen. John A. Logan, Washington, D. C." 
 
 ''What good," said the Sergeant, ''have the Ladies of the 
 O. A. R. done in the way of relief work ? " 
 
 "I am not able," answered the narrator, "to give any 
 information about the work in general. I had an opportu- 
 nity to learn what Circle No. 1, in Chicago, accomplished. 
 The donations raised and used by them for the relief of old 
 soldiers and their families during one year amounted to over 
 $3,000. During the same year they were successful (where 
 •others had failed) in securing pensions and back allowance for 
 soldiers to the amount of over $10,000." 
 
 "Something like our lady relatives in war time, aren't 
 they ?" said the handsome Major, "can't be beat." 
 
 "I come now, boys, to the largest organization of loyal 
 ladies — the' Woman's Relief Corps. Although started but a 
 little over three years ago (viz., on July 25, 1883, at Denver), 
 they number over 40,000 members at the present time. 
 
 "I am not enough of an orator, comrades, to be able to 
 speak worthily of that mighty host of American women. 
 Their warm hearts; their sympathetic souls for charity (at the 
 ;same time with superior tact and discretion in its disburse- 
 ment); their, busy fingers and feet for the soldiers' good; 
 their admiring love for the old heroes; their true patriotism; 
 their influence in inspiring the young with love of country; 
 their power for purity (and so for better citizens and a better 
 land); the success of their bright, happy faces, not only in 
 ministering to the poor, the sick, and the suffering, but in 
 bringing also to the well a loving courage and cheer; their 
 .sincere faith and heaven-reaching prayers — all these will 
 bring an uplifting leaven of hope and strength, of aid and 
 result, of cheer and reward that will bless every veteran's 
 heart, if open to receive it. 
 
 "Look at the grand women that lead that magnificent 
 army! Mrs. Anna Wittenmeyer, of Philadelphia, that angel 
 
400 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL AVAR. 
 
 of healing, whose wise work saved scores of thousands of 
 soldiers' lives, beside relieving suffering and pain in millions; 
 whose introduction of the diet kitchens into the army was 
 perhaps the greatest practical good any woman ever did to 
 humanity. See that beautiful and splendid illustration of 
 American womanhood, r.Irs. Kate B. Sherwood, of Toledo, 
 Ohio, the exquisite poetess and writer of patriotic eloquence, 
 whose words will nerve and bless millions upon millions every 
 year, while time shall last. Look at their honored national 
 president, Mrs. Elizabeth D'A. Kinne, of San Francisco, and 
 the two other j^ast national presidents (beside Mrs. Sher- 
 wood), Mrs. E. F. Barker, of Maiden, Mass., and Mrs. Sarah 
 E. Fuller, of East Boston, Mass. I can't stop to tell you the 
 names of the noble women who are officers in this large 
 organization (thirty-two departments and 1500 corps), or 
 I should keep you all night. It will be more interesting to 
 you for me to quote some of the words and records of the 
 Grand Army about this auxiliary to its usefulness. 
 
 *^The Nineteenth Encampment resolved 'That the Wo- 
 man's Eelief Corps has our earnest wishes for its continued 
 success; our hearty support of the purposes of its organiza- 
 tion, and our cooperation in all of its undertakings.' 
 '^ Commander-in-chief, Kountz, said at Portland: 
 *' 'Knowing the great work accomplished by the ladies in 
 my own city, and their efficient help in the charitable work 
 of my Post, I have always been a firm believer in woman's, 
 work for the Grand Army. Wherever the Woman's Eelief 
 Cor^os has met the encouragement from our comrades that it 
 so richly deserves, it has made excellent progress and been an 
 invaluable help in our fraternal and charitable work. It is 
 faithfully fulfifiing its mission, and while we welcome all who 
 would aid in our great work, under whatsoever name, I cor- 
 dially commend this organization of loyal ladies to the con- 
 tinued confidence and respect of the Grand Army of the Ee- 
 public' 
 
CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 401 
 
 '' Commander-in-Chief, Gen. S. S. Burdette, said in Gen- 
 -eral Orders on Thanksgiving Day, 1885: 
 
 ^^' After careful observation of the results of the work of 
 the Woman's Relief Corps, finding in it room for commenda^ 
 tion only, I recommend with all earnestness that their organi- 
 zation be encouraged and persevered in until every post of the 
 Grand Army shall have by its side this efficient aid in all our 
 works of beneficence, these best guides in the ways of doing 
 good. There is no testimony to the worth of our great insti- 
 tution more decisive than the fact that the woman^s faith and 
 works, which was our bow of promise in the darker days, still 
 follow us with unforgetting kindness, only asking leave to 
 serve our cause.' 
 
 ^^Gen. Burdette, in his report at San Francisco, said : 
 
 *''*The Woman's Relief Corps has passed beyond the stage 
 of mere patronage or commendation. It has become a settled 
 -auxiliary and recognized agency of the Grand Army of the 
 Republic in all its work of beneficence. Its fame, whether 
 for good or ill, is ours, and the proper administration of its 
 trusts and the accomplishment of its helpful aim, are to us 
 as well as itself, matters of proper concern. I have heard 
 good of it from all quarters, evil from none.' 
 
 "The present Commander-in-Chief, Gen. Fairchild, said 
 at San Francisco, in regard to the Woman's Relief Corps: 
 
 " ^It is fitting that the patriotic women of America should 
 share with us the work which recalls a past in v>^hicli they 
 bore so conspicuous and so honorable a part. Let our Union 
 be fully consummated and may we walk together in Faith, 
 Love and Charity, until death do us part.' 
 
 ''^During the last year the Woman's Relief Corps of the 
 United States expended themselves in charity $23,482 and 
 turned over to the posts over $14,000. Corps funds on hand, 
 June 30, 1886, 824,267; relief fund on hand, 120,321. Still 
 greater relief work is being done this year." 
 
402 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 ''And now, comrades, I come to a subject of deep interest 
 to US all — the Sons of Veterans, our boys. That they should 
 desire to aid the old soldiers and to honor such deeds and 
 patriotism is natural and praiseworthy. 
 
 ''The Sons of Veterans were founded in Pittsburg, Pa., 
 in November, 1881 by Major A. P. Davis, a prominent G. A. 
 E. comrade. Their objects are: 
 
 "To keep green the memories of our fathers and their 
 sacrifices to maintain the Union, and to promote their interests 
 and welfare as opportunity may offer or necessity may demand; 
 to aid and assist in caring for their helpless and disabled vet- 
 erans; to extend aid and protection to their widows and 
 orphans; to perpetuate the memory of their heroic dead and 
 the proper observance of Memorial Day; to aid and assist 
 worthy and needy members of our order; to inculcate |)atri- 
 otism and love of country among our membership, and all 
 the people of our land, and to spread and sustain the doctrine 
 of equal rights, universal liberty, and justice to all. 
 
 " They have grown rapidly, and are now found in thirty- 
 five states and territories, with a membership of over 50,000. 
 The order is military in its character and ceremonial work 
 and officered in accordance with army regulations. I have 
 myself seen some splendid drilling done by different camps. 
 All comrades of the G. A. E. are cordially welcomed to all 
 meetings at all times. The ceremonies are simple, impress- 
 ive and helpful. Their lessons are beneficial and teach true 
 patriotism and the highest duties of citizens. They aid the 
 development of all the inherent and essential qualities of a 
 true and systematical manhood. There can be no foundation 
 for a young men's society equal to that of American valor and 
 living loyalty. Like the Grand Army, no politics are allowed 
 in the order. It is a feast, comrades, to attend their meet- 
 ings and see the noble spirit displayed. The boys are chips 
 off the old block, and propose to do something by their own 
 efforts. They intend to have 250,000 members in five years. 
 
GAMP-FIEE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAK. 405 
 
 This spring of 1887 sees the Sons of Veterans established 
 stronger than ever in public estimation. In the first place, 
 they are a splendid body of young men. Valor tells every- 
 where, and through succeeding generations shows its true 
 nobility. Again, they are banded together for the best 
 object, the perpetuation of freedom, as well as to honor 
 American valor and care for the needs of soldiers and their 
 families. Still farther, the military training they receive 
 forms a solid strength and defense to the nation ; always 
 ready for efficient work. Leading newspapers are advocating 
 their claim to generous appreciation everywhere. Why may 
 not the people rejoice to see perpetuated the sturdy vigor and 
 dauntless spirit of Columbia's Immortal Heroes — the admir- 
 ation of the world — especially when their own sons are the 
 faithful exemplars ? The boys are worthy descendants and 
 are showing a gallant appreciation of the honor and duty 
 bequeathed to them. 
 
 *^'The Grand Army have often, officially and otherwise, 
 wished the Sons of Veterans the greatest success. 
 
 " Commander-in Chief Burdette well expressed the senti- 
 ment at the San Francisco Encampment: 
 
 *^^ Whenever our ritual is said, we repeat that 'eternal 
 vigilance is the price of liberty. ' W^e shall be content to va- 
 cate our posts, if as we fall back through the shadows we see 
 the picket-line still manned, and that the uniform is blue. 
 
 '' ' Eecognizing the ability and the will of the generation 
 we ourselves have sent to the front to do the duty of patriot- 
 ism, we give to the Sons of Veterans and their work the bless- 
 ing of the heart of the Grand Army, wishing them God-speed 
 in their united and patriotic labors.^ 
 
 ^'Gen. Burdette's words are echoed on every side. I tell 
 you, comrades, the Grand Army and the loyal public are ap- 
 preciating more fully every day the scope and value of the 
 Sons of Veterans. One thing is sure, had there been such an 
 organization in January, 1861, there would have been no war. 
 
404 CAMP-FIRE CHATS OF THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 '^And now, boys, a word on another equally interesting 
 subject, ' The Daughters of Veterans/ We met Camp No. 1, 
 at San Jose, Cal., and it rejoiced every veteran's heart to see 
 them. Their objects are much the same as those of the Sons 
 of Veterans, and they bring young, loving and beautiful zeal 
 to the noble work in which the Grand Army leads. Here- 
 tofore they have been mostly identified with the Woman's 
 Eelief Corps (who, at San Francisco, by resolution warmly 
 commended them), but are now organizing by themselves. St. 
 Paul has started the work in the northwest with a splendid 
 camp, and in Pennsylvania and in several other states, camps 
 are forming. I have heard of provisional officers for a national 
 organization. The best information can be obtained, I pre- 
 sume, from the one to whom the credit belongs of being the 
 first to demonstrate by a splendid success what the old soldiers' 
 daughters can do. I refer lo the efficient and charming cap- 
 tain of the San Jose camp, Miss Tina 0. Hillman, daughter 
 'Of California's beautiful poetess, Mrs. E. 0. Smith. 
 
 ^^ Comrades, I find I must postpone a host of things. For 
 a few chats I have not had time for fun, there is so much to 
 tell of the noble in the scope of the Grand Army. And be- 
 fore bidding you good-night, let me say that the great heart 
 of our people, warm and loving toward the old soldier, looks 
 with intense interest to-day that he prove a knight without 
 reproach, as he has shown himself one without fear. As said 
 one of the grandest womanly hearts on earth, who has suffered 
 for the country more than any soldier, ' You have earned the 
 everlasting love and gratitude of all the good. Oh! that our 
 influence may help you toward a purity of life and thought 
 equal to your valor ! ' 
 
 "Comrades! to eternal muster soon we'll move; 
 Clean at Heaven's inspection, may all vet'rans prove!" 
 
;^^^