Class 
 
 Book 
 
 
 Author . 
 
 Title 
 
 Imprint. 
 
 16—47372-1 OPO 
 
■> \ f . .x 
 
 r^ 
 
 SAM, 
 
 THE PIROOTER 
 
 DAN. MACAULEY 
 
 m 
 
 LOYAL LEGION BANQUET, CINCINNATI, OHIO, 
 
SAM, 
 
 THE PI ROOTER 
 
 DAN. MACAULEY 
 
 LOYAL LEGION BANQUET, CINCINNATI, OHIO.. 
 I-\-!.niarv icHi. iSS6 
 
ItTATE Of 
 
 ^^ MTBbER 21, Mil' 
 W UMUIY OF mS 
 
 M. 1. ROONEY, 
 Steam Printer & Stati 
 1327 BROADWAY, 
 
 
SAM, 
 
 THE 
 
 P I R O O T "E R . 
 
 "THE PRIVATE SOLDIER AS A FORAGER." 
 
 (WIT AND WISDOM IN THE RANKS. 
 
 " Peace kind o', sort o\ suits my diet, 
 Wlien wimmen does my cookiii' for me ; 
 They wasn't overly much pie et, 
 Durin' the army." 
 
 ; Co////'<i/no/! Gen. Dax. M.\c.\i'ley, Ohio Conimandery, 
 CohiDibiis, O. I 
 
 I thank you most cordially for your complimentary 
 invitation of to-night, regretting, however, that I have 
 nothing better to offer than a "twice-told tale." I 
 can't help feeling a little like a ne^^'ly-drafted man 
 among old veterans, in endeavoring to entertain my 
 Companions of the Loyal Legion after my drifting life 
 of the past several years, separated from such associa- 
 tions until all I ever knew or heartl of soldier experi- 
 ences has about dried and mummified within me. 
 
 And if I should entangle militarv movements with 
 
hotel rates, or the price of beans with golden glories, 
 you will attribute it, I trust, to intense application to 
 new duties the past half vear. 
 
 "Reading and writing," Dogberry says, "come by 
 nature ;" but hotel keeping is an infliction of the Evil 
 One, the price of which is eternal vigilance and occa- 
 sional incursions into the very suburbs of profanity. 
 This is, however, as the Irishman says, "sub rosa and 
 above board. '" 
 
 If my effort should present to your practiced ears 
 what the boys call "chestnuts,"' consider the old 
 proverbs and be wise : "There is nothing new under 
 the sun," and "You should never look 'A.gift chestnut 
 in the wormhole. " 
 
 In considering a subject, I have wondered if we 
 haven't, for a moment at least, sufificiently familiarized 
 ourselves with the more ponderous and famous events 
 and men of the great war. Are there not vast num.- 
 bers prone, and prompt, and eloquent tu write, ur 
 sing, or talk of Sherman's triumphant march tu the 
 sea.? — Of Sheridan's dashing ride to glory .^ — And the 
 imperishable honors of that silent lier<i who was above 
 all men — 
 
 " Patient in toil. 
 
 Serene amidst alarms, 
 Inflexible in faith, 
 Invincible in arms !" 
 
 —the beloved and lamented Grant.? 
 
 4 
 
So let them sing, and speak, and write ; they thrill 
 Mur hearts and bring to our e}es the tears sacred to 
 such memories alone ! 
 
 But there are other and lighter themes to which we 
 mav turn with a different satisfaction. Camp life, like 
 poverty, made strange companionships ; antl when we 
 reject that every hour had its little history, with 
 tragedy and comedy closel_\- jostling elbows, a thou- 
 sands items spring up to remind us of the brighter 
 sides of dutv, and of the peculiar characters who made 
 us laugh in spite of ourselves throughout the entire war. 
 
 I have in mind just such a one — a most unheroic 
 fellow of mine — whose roguish tricks, unconscious 
 wit, and insatiable appetite for mischief and punish- 
 ment were at once the delight of the regiment and the 
 perpetual despair of the unhappy rascal himself 
 
 I call him "Sam," partly because it's an easy name 
 to get hold of and i)artly because it really was his 
 name, 
 
 1 first distinctly remember him at Memphis along 
 about the middle of the war, just as we were getting 
 ready one evening for dress parade. I was standing 
 in front of regimental headtiuarters with a number of 
 the officers, all in the gior\- of full uniform, when a 
 green, gawky-looking fellow, evidently one of our new 
 recruits, edged into the party, and with a familiar nod, 
 pn^dded his thumb into my ribs, saying : 
 
 " Be you Captain o' Company B.?" 
 
It was a rather surprising question at that time in 
 the war, when almost every man, woman, and chiki 
 in the country was famihar with uniforms and badges 
 of rank, and the eagle, perched on my shoulder- 
 strap, was staring him in the face as he spoke. How- 
 ever, I answered, "No, sir." 
 
 A faint smile on the faces of the other officers must 
 have raised a doubt in his mind, for he persisted, 
 "Yes, you be !" 
 
 "No, sir; you are mistaken," I said again, and so 
 earnestly that, with a half apologetic grin on his queer 
 face, he responded : 
 
 "Be jingo ! they said you be !" and then he faded 
 away backwards into camp among the jokers who had 
 sent him. 
 
 And this turned out to be "Sam," who made much 
 of our military life one "vast substantial smile." He 
 never especially meant to be funny, and was rarely 
 known to smile himself; on the contrary, he seemed 
 as simple and serious in manner as he was cadaverous 
 in appearance. Tall, very slim, freckled and homely, 
 awkward, a born poacher, controlled instantly by his 
 slightest impulse for mischief, and apparently without 
 knowledge of right from wrong, he passed his days 
 between devilment and consequential plunges into 
 spasms of repentance and remorse when confronted, 
 as he was almost daily, by the various punishments in 
 vogue in camp. 
 
1 next remember him a short time afterwards in 
 camp, just above New Orleans. 
 
 The day of our arrival there a party of some eiglity 
 soldiers was marched into ([uarters for assignment to 
 duty with our regiment. A strange lieutenant had 
 charge of them, and as our adjutant was not present 
 at the moment to call and verify the roll, I took it, 
 and, stepping out in front of the line, called and 
 checked it off myself. While doing so 1 felt some one, 
 presumably the lieutenant, close l)ehind me, breathnig 
 heavily over my shoulder as he watched the interest- 
 ing process. Name after name 1 called, with some little 
 haste and annoyance at the face I could feel rather than 
 see, at my shoulder; and as the last response was no- 
 ted, I turned abruptly to the left, and fairly bumped 
 noses with this same .Sim who had so recently insisted 
 that I was Captain of Compan\- "B. " 
 
 We were standing out alone, at least twenty feet 
 from any others, he staring me in the face with inno- 
 cent curiosity. I didn't speak, but looked at him 
 steadily until he seemed to realize that one of us at 
 least had committed some impropriety ; and, as before, 
 he sought a quiet refuge back among his comrades, 
 who rolled upon the ground laughing at his freshness. 
 
 We had scarcely gotten straight in camp and begun 
 to discipline and instruct our new men when an officer 
 arrived from general headquarters to make a close in- 
 spection of us as to drill, discipline, and general con- 
 
dition. He gave notice merely by calling at my tent 
 in full paraphernalia with the announcement that he 
 was "ready," and, of course, the Colonel flew around 
 and got the regiment ready also. The inspector was 
 a regular army officer — strict, sharp, and determined 
 to learn in a very brief time all that a searching inspec- 
 tion could reveal. 
 
 Anxious for a favorable report from him, I accom- 
 panied him through the entire inspection, suggesting 
 and explaining as seemed wise, and when finall}- 
 through, inviting him to headquarters for such con- 
 sultation and refreshment as might be profitable and 
 pleasant. The day was exceedingly hot, our uniforms 
 (with sword, belt, and sash) especially burdensome ; 
 and as we neared the tent I suggested that we remove 
 our harness and heavy coats, and take things easy 
 awhilr, to which he assented, and we walked in, 
 unbuckling our sword-belts. 
 
 And there, to my horror, with hrs little portfolio and 
 writing kit spread out, sat this same atrocious Sam at 
 my desk laboriously writing a letter. 
 
 I had been lenient with him heretofore, for I knew 
 his troubles would begin soon enough, and that the 
 military polishing process would be sufficiently rapid 
 and severe without any special aid from me ; but this 
 last performance of his upset me. To think that this 
 inspector should find the Colonel's tent apparently a 
 general convenience for the raw recruits was not onlv 
 
humilating, hut \er\' ncarh' infurialing, and I mentally 
 marked the obtrusive Sam fiir earl_\- discipline. I 
 presumed that he would immediately withdraw on 
 account of lack of room, if for no other reason ; and 
 so, with fine diplrimacy, I affected to be ver\- busv 
 taking oft' m}- things, chatting feverishly the while with 
 the inspector, and hoping he would suppose it was my 
 clerk so busily engaged. 
 
 But I had not yet learned to forecast Sam"s j)rob- 
 abilities correctly, and he didn't budge. 
 
 Seeing that exposure was inevitable, I tapped him 
 on the shoulder, and asked what he was doing there. 
 
 "I'm writin', he answered pleasantly, looking 
 around, but making no eftbrt to move. 
 
 ■' (io out !'" I said, pointing the wav for him. 
 
 "There's room here if you want to write," he 
 argued, as he hitched along and began to concentrate 
 his traps. 
 
 " Will you get out T 
 
 "Cap'm Kemper said I could write here,'' he in- 
 sisted, and still with no attempt at removal. 
 
 "Will you get out of here before I hurt you.?" I 
 asked with such emphasis that slowly and sadly he 
 picked up his things, walked to the door of the tent, 
 turned, and with one hand grasping the centre-pole, 
 began : 
 
 "Cap'm Kemper" — but I started for him, and he 
 fled. 
 
I often wondered just what he wrote about me when 
 he finished that letter. 
 
 For some time after this I lost sight of him, but it 
 was soon apparent that we had a character among us. 
 He passed through his "evolution" ft-om a green 
 recruit into a "soldier," and in this old familiar and 
 somewhat painful process his peculiarities assumed all 
 the progressive importance that he did himself. It 
 began to be known that he was constitutionally op- 
 posed to all arm}- rules and regulations inconsistent 
 with his comfort and ideas of personal liberty ; and 
 his fame as a "Pirooter" — which meant, in his ver- 
 nacular, "a feller that could forage in twelve lan- 
 guages, and nary one of "em dead" — commenced to 
 spread abroad throughout the land. He undoubtedly 
 could and most cheerfully would, have robbed those 
 old masters, " Sherman's bummers," of the very horses 
 they sat upon ; and his mania for stealing was onlv 
 checked by articles loo big, or hot, or wet to carry. 
 Anything and everything ^vas his, from an eight-da\' 
 clock to a Presbyterian pulpit. 
 
 Of course, such magnificent talent could not long be 
 wasted in the obscurity of vague and general eftbrt, 
 and so he was soon detailed to steal in a more syste- 
 matic and official manner for his company officers" 
 mess. It is almost needless to state that they forth- 
 with lived like fighting cocks, while comparative deso- 
 lation overspread the balance of the camj). Here he 
 
 lu 
 
developed the iniportaiu fact in his composition that 
 it was a solemn point of honor with him never to steal 
 from those with whom he was engaged, while against 
 all the rest of the world the black flag of "pirooting" 
 was up. 
 
 It follows naturally that in a little while, in pure 
 self-defense, I detailed him as "Pirooter-in-Chief" of 
 regimental headquarters mess, and then began a 
 struggle for supremacy between Sam and his Colonel, 
 lasting with varying results during the remainder of the 
 war, sometimes one ahead, and sometimes the other 
 leading by a neck. 
 
 A few of many incidents may serve to illustrate his 
 character : 
 
 Finding him on guard duty one da}- (extra duty, of 
 course), I stopped and asked him what were his 
 instructions. Halting, facing, and saluting, he gra\elv 
 informed me they were to let no one cross his beat but 
 "niggers, hogs, and officers." 
 
 I looked him long and searchingly in the face, but 
 he returned the gaze with such innocent composure, 
 that I walked on and said no more. And really, as I 
 thought it over, he was not so far wrong after all. 
 Our colored hewers of wood and drawers of water 
 were necessarily under less restriction than our soldiers, 
 and were permitted b}- the nature of their duties to 
 crojs camp lines wherever most convenient. I never 
 heard of a sentinel who wouldn't let a hog cross his 
 
line, at least into camp, and, of course, oflicers were 
 privileged as he said. It was his manner of expressing 
 it, and the invidious order of classification that starded 
 me at first. 
 
 Once while writing in my tent, a big, muscular 
 soldier came up and asked : 
 
 "Oh, Colonel, if a man called you so-and-so, what 
 would _you do?" 
 
 I was quite busy, and merely raised my head to 
 answer briefly : 
 
 ''I'd knock him down," and continued my writing. 
 It Avasn't long before Sam came to me, and a most 
 woeful-looking object he was. Battered, bruised and 
 bloody, muddy and scratched, and with every appear- 
 ance of having passed through a great crisis too sud- 
 denly, he blubbered out his bitter complaint of the 
 man who had so effectually thrashed him ; but more 
 bitter and grievous was his censure of me for having 
 given him — as the fellow swore to Sam — permission to 
 do it. 
 
 "I kin stand the lickin', Colonel," he sobbed, "but 
 to think you'd put it up on me so is what breaks my 
 heart !'' 
 
 Forgetting the brief but pointed consultation of a 
 few moments before, I indignantly denied the charge ; 
 but explanations followed, and Sam became in time 
 reconciled, not only to the Colonel, but the whipping 
 also. 
 
He had ligured up tlie exact number (irda\s he had 
 to serve, and early every morning would mount some 
 stum|) or box and yell out to the whole camp the 
 record : 
 
 "Only 4^7 days to serve!" or whatever the number 
 hajopened to be. 
 
 At one lime, when we were under a rather severe 
 musketry Hre, Sam was heard to whine out most 
 })iteously : 
 
 "Oh, Lord, don't I wish I was in my lather's tild 
 barn 1" 
 
 Why he should wish to be in that peculiar place just 
 then aroused curiosity, and some one asked him 
 •'why?" 
 
 "lb see liow blamed quick I'd get into the house I" 
 he chuckled. 
 
 Some old copies of a comic paper, called Budget of 
 Fun, were much read in camp in those days, and I 
 quietly enjoyed Sam's quaint use of its name as we 
 marched along one afternoon. As we passed a wagon 
 train, he sung out cheerily to one of the teamsters : 
 
 " Say, don't you want a Budget of Fun P" 
 
 "Yes," was promptly answered. 
 
 "Take this one," said Sam, as he shied his heavy 
 knapsack into the wagon for the teamster to carr}-. 
 
 We were once on an expedition far into the enemy's 
 lines, and the orders against foraging were absolute 
 and peremptory. The troops were so instructed by 
 
 13 
 
general notification, while to Sam 1 felt it necessary 
 to privately read the riot act in italics. 
 
 The next day, riding out to the picket line, and 
 turning a sharp corner in the road, I met the argus 
 fingered rogue face to face, riding a remarkable car- 
 icature of a horse which he had managed to "achieve" 
 somewhere. In front of him was a large box or bundle 
 closely wrapped in his blanket, and hugged in both 
 arms, while he held the bridle in his teeth. 
 
 He nearly fell off his horse as he met me, tried to 
 salute, dropped his l)ridle, clutched at the box and 
 falling blanket, and away he dashed, covered with 
 bees from the hive he had stolen, and yelling like a 
 Modoc. 
 
 He came to me once with his gun, and asked 
 meekly what lie should do with it. 
 
 "Clean it," I suggested. 
 
 "No, I don't mean that," he said: "but where 
 shall I put it.^ My time is out, and I'd like to have 
 you make out my discharge.'" 
 
 "Your discharge! You lunatic! Why, you've 
 got a year and a half to serve !'" 
 
 "Yes, I know about that; but you see, Colonel, 
 you've had me on double duty the last year or so, and 
 I thought maybe that ought to let me out now," and 
 then he marched away with a hurt expression at so 
 plain a proposition being questioned. 
 
 When our regiment "veteranized," or re enlisted 
 
tor llie second and final three years of the war, I 
 noticeil that Sam's name was not put down, as frum 
 day to day the Hst was rapidl}- growing. 
 
 Asking him why he hesitated, and if he reallv in- 
 tended to leave us, I discussed the matter with him, 
 
 "Vi)U know- very well that if you go home vou'll 
 not stay there ten da\s ; you will certainly enlist in 
 some command, and so why not stay with your old 
 comrades of the i ith ?'' 
 
 "Well, Colonel," he drawled, as he pulled out 
 some printed papers : "if }Ou'll figure up this bounty 
 and stuft' allowed them veterans, you'll see it amounts 
 to jist four hundred and two dollars." ' 
 
 I assented. 
 
 "Well, sir, the trouble's here. I know jist exactly 
 what to d(i with that four hundred dollars ; but, by 
 thunder, them two dollars gits me ; and I don't know 
 what on airth to do with 'em." 
 
 It is a fact which others will probably remember, 
 and which I cannot explain, that in a few days 
 later versions of those orders arrived, summing up 
 exactly, as I presume was originally intended, an 
 even four hundred dollars, and at once I called for 
 Sam, showed him that the fatal two dollars no longer 
 stood between himself and imperishable fame, and he 
 immediately signed the roll. Of course the fellow 
 meant from the first to re-enlist, but could only do it 
 in his own peculiar way. 
 
 15 
 
One winter we were for many days on a ^Mississippi 
 River expedition down below Helena, Arkansas, with 
 a fleet of steamers under Gen. Willis A. Gorman. The 
 weather was most inclement and the men suffered 
 very severely from cold and exposure. Under such 
 conditions a soldier's bump of reverence for anything 
 he can worry suffers great shrinkage. Sam had taken 
 a violent dislike to General Gorman, because, for- 
 sooth, that gallant gentleman had been forced to join 
 in the famous retreat_ from the first Bull Run battle- 
 field. 
 
 Why Sam should have considered that General 
 Gorman had any special monopoly or responsibility in 
 that great national foot-race, or that he had developed 
 more speed than was absolutely necessary to keep up 
 with the procession, is hard to understand ; but so it 
 was, and several times during this expedition, as I 
 afterwards learned, when our steamers were sufficiently 
 near, Sam would electrify the General by howling at 
 him most derisively : 
 
 ■' Hello 1 Old Bull Run !'" 
 
 Once he made a mistake. Headquarters steamer 
 was brought alongside of ours and within a few feet 
 for consultation, and on the upper or hurricane deck 
 stood the General himself. 
 
 Sam was on the lower forward deck of our vessel, 
 out near the bow, and, bracing himself, he yelled up 
 into Gorman's very teeth : 
 
"Hello! OKI Hull Run l'" 
 
 The General was loo iiuick for him ; leanin;.; over 
 the side, he shouted down U> the ,L;uard : ''Throw that 
 man on my lioat here I (^)uick !'" And sure enough 
 the\' did. Sam, s])rawliiii;' throui^h the air like a frog, 
 was j^itclied headlong on to Gorman's boat, and dur- 
 ing the remaintler of the tlay, at \arious distances, 
 neau and far, we could see him, long and lank and 
 lean, tieil up like a lluttering scarecrow lo die jack- 
 staff of the steamer. It was a cold and gusty day — for 
 Sam — and no especial attendonwas paid to waffles and 
 (juail for him (" pinmling'" being temporarily jiarahzed 
 Mith its chief apostle); and so, when along towards 
 night tlie boats were brt)ught together again, and he 
 was chucked back to us stiti[' as a wooden Indian, it 
 might reasonabh- be supposed that for once the Great 
 Irrepressible was sijuelcheil. 
 
 No, not the least in the W(jrld. 
 
 He gathered himself together, and— chilled, blue, 
 and starved as he was, came creaking and grunting 
 up stairs to me in the cabin. 
 
 "Colonel,'" he groaned, "I wish you'd please have 
 my discharge made out right away." 
 
 "Your discharge 1 you pluperfect villain! Your 
 funeral, vou mean, if vou're not more careful !" 
 
 "No, my discharge, Colonel. I've been put on 
 GoRM.Ax's Stafj- !" 
 
 Down-stairs, a few moments later, he made a tarn- 
 
ishing raid on a little close corporation of the boys 
 sitting on the floor around a frugal meal of coffee, 
 hard- tack, and s. b., loudly declaring the paradox : 
 
 "I'm going to eat at the first table if I have to 
 wait." 
 
 Failing to break, the circle from any direction, he 
 suddenly ceased trying, and affected to notice in 
 amazement what they were eating. 
 
 "Well," he said, "I don't believe mule tail stufted 
 with soger buttons is good for freckles, anyhow." 
 
 When I asked later how he felt when first thrown 
 on to Gorman's Doat, he said most solemnly : 
 
 "Colonel, awful. I give you my word, I thought 
 he'd a killed me, and, by jingo, you'd a starved if he 
 had. Well, sir, when they got them ropes out, my 
 heart thumped like a potato in a wooden shoe. I 
 thought Old Bull Run was goin' to hang me sure !"' 
 
 While we were stationed at Helena, Ark., on the 
 bank of the Mississippi, a couple of new regiments — 
 the 2 2d and 24th Iowa — came to us by steamer direct 
 from home. They were a gallant set of men, new, 
 bright, and fresh, and possessed of camp outfits of 
 stupendous elegance. They had not yet experienced 
 any of the miseries of that fell destroyer of luxury, 
 lack of transportation, and so were regarded as fine 
 sport for plucking by old veterans of very little worldly 
 gear and less conscience, and if a number of us 
 officers had not combined to put a stop to it, they 
 
M'ould have been looted as bare as a modern ballet 
 troupe. My tent at that time was up on top of the 
 levee, and one bright moonlight night about midnight, 
 I was aroused by a mysterious shuffling and whisper- 
 ing near the back of the tent towards town, where the 
 new regiments were encamped. 
 
 "Easy, boys," I could hear in stage whispers. 
 "Easy! Thunder! Do you want to wake the 
 Colonel? Steady now ! All together! Easy! Step 
 light — sh-h-h !" and knowing that something contra- 
 band would pass the door of my tent in a moment, I 
 stepped from bed and waited. Some six or eight of 
 our old soldiers came carefully tip-toeing past, lug- 
 ging a gigantic company mess box, just stolen from 
 one of the Iowa camps, the whole enterprise under 
 the management of its natural guide, counsellor, and 
 friend, the redoubtable Sam. 
 
 "Good evening, gentlemen." I said affectionately; 
 "much obliged ! Set it right down here, and go to 
 bed ; you look tired. Good-night ;" and away they 
 sneaked, full of trouble and unrest. Next morning, 
 after guard mounting, I sent for Sam, and had him 
 call up his fellow-villains m front of headquarters, 
 where they stood in line, silent and abashed, awaiting 
 their doom. Sam eyed me with eager interest as J 
 sent for a guard and the martial, or "sheep-skin" 
 band, until at last a glimmer of the dreadful truth 
 swept through his guilty mind. His face deepened 
 
 19 
 
and his eyes opened wider, until at last he burst lorlh 
 in an agony of perspiring supplication. 
 
 " Say, Colonel ! wot in thunder are you goin' to do 
 to me?'' 
 
 The wht>le camp, out to see the tun, roared with 
 delight, as it was announced that they were to march 
 back to that Iowa camp with the mess box under 
 guard and with the band at the head. 
 
 "You'll probablv have a warm reception," I added 
 encouragingly. 
 
 "Oh, Lord 1" he gr(_)aned, as he turned white and 
 gasped for breath at the awful prospect. The picture 
 of the great "Pirooter'' and his veteran cronies march- 
 ing into that jeering, jibing camp of raw recruits to 
 return stolen property in broad daylight to the tune of 
 the "Rogue's March," with the whole post laughing 
 at them, almost made him i'rantic. 
 
 "Oh 1 say, Colonel, Lovd I Vou wouldn't do that 
 to me ! would you. Old Par]) ?" was wrung fr(jm the 
 very bottom of his heart. 
 
 The Ivecording Angel, aghast at the endearing 
 phrase, so breachy of military etiquette, nevertheless 
 sponged lUit the "old pard " under the charitable 
 mantle i>f extenuating circumstances. 
 
 I learned afterwards that it was a fortunate thing for 
 Sam that the guard was along ; for no sooner had the 
 procession left our camp than the elastic rogue boldly 
 pretended tn ]<c in cimmand ')f the partv, issued 
 
\)rder>, scoldetl liis fellows lor iiul uuirching lu suit 
 him, and wlieii in the Iowa camp, "formed himself 
 into a hollow square I' as he proclaimed and made a 
 nwck presentation speech, which gave l)oUi great 
 amusement and oflense to the astonished recipients. 
 He claimed that he and his coparceners had raised the 
 money by popular subscription to buy the mess chest 
 now presented, and after a rambling harangue, half 
 mahcious and altogether funn}', as described to me at 
 the time, he wound up with a remark that nearly pro- 
 voked attack on the whole party. It was to the effect 
 that whenever during our marches yet to come he 
 should see sitting by the roadside tender- footed and 
 weary stragglers of this regiment, with the "24" on 
 their caps, it would always delight and cheer him, for 
 he wouUl then know to a dead certainty that there 
 wasn't an enemy or a particle of danger within " 24 " 
 miles ! 
 
 He tried to get as nearly even as possible with the 
 regiment that had been the innocent cause of his dis- 
 grace by owning what he called a "sugar-coated mess 
 box," and the guard was glad to get away with him 
 and themsehes undamaged. 
 
 "Colonel." said Sam to me one day, "may I ask 
 you a conundrum ?" 
 
 " Fire away, Sam." 
 
 "If either you or me had to be killed in battle, 
 which one ought it to be ?" 
 
"Well, Sam,' I should make a vigorous effort to 
 spare you if I had to choose." 
 
 ",No\Vj Colonel, that's where you're dead wrong; 
 for I can stand grief a great deal better than you kin — 
 I'm used-er to it. " 
 
 Once while devising a new and more soul-searching 
 punishment for some aggravated rascality of his, I 
 held a brief session of remonstrance with him. 
 
 ''In the name of patience," I said, "what am I tO' 
 do with you ? Won't you ever behave, or shall I have 
 to spike and abandon you at last ?" 
 
 "Well, Colonel," he replied, reflectively, "I'm a 
 cuss, ain't I ? I dunno what's best to do with me, or, 
 honest injun, I'd tell you. Sometimes I think you 
 can't do anything, and maybe we'd better give up 
 tryin'. " 
 
 "No, no," I said, "let's keep on experimenting; 
 we may strike something yet." 
 
 "All right, if you think so; as the Irishman said, 
 "You're wrong, but I'm wid you," he assented. I 
 then explained to him that a probable mistake of mine 
 was in always placing him on extra duty of an active 
 kind, such as chopping wood, carrying a knapsack 
 full of stones, digging a ditch, and the like — all of 
 which energetic exercises he seemed to enjoy and 
 thrive upon. 
 
 "Now," said I, "how would you like to stand still 
 and not work or move around at all ? Could you do it ?" 
 
He didn't know — it was a new idea to him— but he 
 was perfectly willing to give it a fair trial. 
 
 There was an old sugar hogshead, widi one head 
 in, standing near; so 1 had him roll it up in front of 
 my tent a little to one side, turn it up and mount il. 
 1 had seen him most admirably strike the position of 
 the Henry Clay statue in New Orleans — left hand 
 behind him, right extended as if in debate, and heatl 
 thrown well back; so 1 had him do it on the impro- 
 vised pedestal. He could hardly conceal his delight 
 at the novelty of it, but, knowing the restless creature 
 as I ditl, 1 thought it would soon wear off. The day 
 was a scorcher ; the flies were buzzing after the sugar 
 remaining in the hogshead, and the monotony of the 
 thing I judged would soon dampen his newl3'-awakened 
 artistic ardor, so I left him alone in his glory while I 
 went into my tent to do some writing. The statue 
 soon attracted attention, and I could hear the boys 
 asking what he was doing there, to which he responded 
 in confidential tone that the Colonel was paying him 
 fifty cents an hour to ornament his tent as a fancy 
 hitching post. Adjoining our regiment at that time 
 was the Forty-si.xth Indiana, under that glorious "Old 
 Shrimp,'' as he was nicknamed, Colonel T. H. Bring- 
 hurst. A couple of his men, at a loss for mischief, 
 had effectually created it by solemnly insisting that 
 they could no longer keep step in marching ! They 
 could not have hit upon a more ingenious method of 
 
producinii' llie greatest jiussible confusiun on drill nr 
 parade, and their little circus had been running a da_v 
 or twu with imoiense success, about the time Sam 
 introduced the Henrv Clav act. 
 
 They were not apparently stubb.irn or ugly, but 
 most absurdly [)rotested, in all regretful earnest, that 
 thev had actually forgotten how to keep step, and 
 couldn't recover it as vet ! Remonstrance and pun- 
 ishment were of no avail : but the ingenious Bring- 
 hurst rose to tlie occasion as follows : Laying down a 
 " hard tack '■ box the flat way, he cut IkjIcs for the 
 heads of the two men, their arms coming out through 
 the sides ; then standing them closely crowded together, 
 and facing the same way, one behind the other, he 
 fitted the cracker box down tightly on them, and, put- 
 ting a man with a bayonet behind them, gave the 
 order to " march I" 
 
 The thing worked to a charm. They not only 
 marched, but they kept stej) perfectly : they couldn't 
 do anything else, in fact, and not tall down. They 
 were willing to quit long before their Colonel was: 
 but the curious looking thing marched around camp 
 hour after hour with an unanimity of legs beautiful to 
 see. Several times, as the " Siamesed "' culprits came 
 around our way, the\- unloaded some of their wrath at 
 long range on Sam by asking disrespectful questions 
 of him, which he treated with scornful indifference, 
 
until at last he shut iheiu up witli one, \elled tint sc> 
 t)oth regiments could hear : 
 
 "Say, when are you fellers all goin' to draw them 
 new-fangled jackets ?" 
 
 In a little while the tiresome position, the heat, and 
 the tlies x^earied Sam ; and, putting his hand up to 
 the side nf his mouth, lie called into the tent to me 
 in a loud whisper : 
 
 " Oh, Colonel ! You've got me now, by Cain." 
 
 It wasn't long before his uneasiness in stamping off 
 the flies loosened the head of the old hogshead, and 
 he broke through. Of course, this terminated the 
 Henry Chry business ; but in other respects Sam was 
 worse oft" than before. The hogshead was about 
 breast high, and kept the occupant sultry, while the 
 flies simply rallied by the million ! 
 
 "Oh! Colonel!" he whispered in agony, "I'm 
 licked I Let up, won't you f You've got me this 
 time, sure ! Next time I cut up you jist jump stifif- 
 legged on me, if you"ll quit now 1 " 
 
 "All right, Sam; don't worry. I'll be out in an 
 hour or so ; it's too good a thing to let ii:o oft" sud- 
 denly !"' 
 
 'While he thus fretted and perspired, our old Briga- 
 dier-General, McGinnis, came strolling down to see 
 me with a letter in his hand from home concerning 
 one of our men. I offered to send for him into com- 
 pany quarters, but the General suggested that we walk 
 
down into camp and see him ourselves, and S(5 we 
 started. 
 
 Outside of the tent he changed his mind, saving, 
 " I'll wait here, INIack ; you go down and see about it 
 yourself.'" 
 
 When I returned in a few moments I found the 
 General standing off some ten feet from Sam's hogs- 
 head, and regarding him with intense interest, his face 
 crimsoned with suppressed laughter, which he could 
 only control with the aid of one hand helping to hold 
 his mouth in shape, while the innocent Sam seemed 
 gravely unconscious of the existence of anything on 
 earth. 
 
 "Where did you catch that.?" the General asked. 
 "What is it.?" 
 
 I told him. 
 
 "Well, he's a character," he said, and then in- 
 formed me that during my brief absence, and not 
 especially noticing Sam, he had placed his hand on 
 the edge of the hogshead, leaning there awaiting my 
 return, when Sam instantly tapped him on the shoulder 
 and ordered him in the most positive terms to remove 
 his hand. 
 
 "Take your hand off, sir: dont touch it! The 
 Colonel has put me here to guard this hogshead !"" 
 
 And so, with varying fortunes and a myriad of haps 
 and mishaps beyond the power of man to recall, 
 stumbled on the erratic Sam to final discharge at the 
 
end of the war, a firm believer that he was born to ill 
 luck, yet also of the unalterable opinion that he had 
 been largely instrumental in putting down the great 
 rebellion. 
 
 His first ambition after discharge was to be City 
 Treasurer of Indianapolis, failing in which, he took to 
 the less perilous business of tin-roofing. 
 
 Once I saw him on the very pinnacle of a tall church 
 steeple, with his legs around the spire, one arm clutch- 
 ing the top ornament ! while he hammered away with 
 the other. So frightful a position had attracted quite 
 a crowd upon the sidewalk, and I stopped to look, not 
 recognizing who the daring climber was. He ceased 
 work for a moment and, after a careful survey of our 
 little assemblage, yelled out to me : 
 
 "Say, Colonel ! Don't it make you dizzy to look 
 up here ?'' 
 
 A characteristic freak of Sam's was, that inasmuch as 
 he had not been consulted about my brevet promotion 
 from the Colonelcy late in the war, he never recognized 
 it, and so I always remained "Colonel" to him. 
 
 Occasionally he would disappear for months, and 
 nearly always turn up with such tales and evidences of 
 distress that the Colonel's pocket was bound to be 
 tapped according to the degree of trouble : and so we 
 drifted along, dividing salary with considerable regu- 
 larity for quite a number of years. Once, while hold- 
 ing city court, some mysterious prisoner insisted on 
 
Ibrwareling- p^leas of '* guilty " from the city jail of any 
 crime with which we might see tit to charge him, but 
 positively refusing to come into court, unless "fotched," 
 and so I sent fi )r him. 
 
 To my sorrow, it was the unhappy Sam. under a 
 charge of misappropriation of chickens — a joke in 
 olden da\s, but now christened by a name of graver 
 character. 
 
 He had been taken red-handed in the act, and the 
 furious complainant was in court howling for blood, 
 justice, and revenge. I must have looked rather 
 seriously into the appealing face of my old " Pirooter," 
 for he actually blushed, and with tears in his eyes beg- 
 ged me to kill him for so disgracing the old regiment. 
 
 Justice is said to be blind, and I trust she never saw 
 exactly what became of that case. Sam, with manv 
 repentant tears— and another division of salary — 
 started for the Shenandoah Vallev to reside, while I 
 occupied the subsequent few weeks in tr}ing to explain 
 the matter to my constituent who had lost the chickens. 
 
 I never saw Sam again, but I heard often from 
 him. 
 
 Poor fellow I Evil days fell upon him, never more 
 to rise, it seems, during his troubled life. 
 
 His letters followed me to the uttermost parts of my 
 pilgrimages — from the knobs of Kentucky to the 
 mountains of old Mexico — from "Alpha to Omaha,'' 
 his dear old sprawling fist, with its manv curious im- 
 
 28 
 
pediments of spellins;, delighted or .urieved me, as his 
 funnv nature or perplexities nt" misfortune asserted 
 themselves. 
 
 In a moment of lu'er and conlidencc he had mar- 
 ried — poor girl — and in time was surrounded b\' a 
 little squad of " Pirooters," each one named after me, 
 or approximately thereto, so far as chang-es could be 
 rung to accommodate numbers and sex. 
 
 But with all liis po\erty and "Rip \'an Winkle-ish' 
 improvidence, 1 am sure he was a gentle father, and 
 tliat his wife and babies loved him dearly. I am satis- 
 lied he was a hero to them, as he told them " bouncers " 
 of his part in the big war, when he fought amid the 
 ^vaving of the banners and the shouting of the cap- 
 tains ! And I d(_)nt dnubt that he bragged lieroically, 
 and widi many loving lies, of the daring prowess of 
 liis "Old Pard,'-' the Colonel. 
 
 My picture, he wrote me once, hung on the walls 
 of his little cabin, near Harrisonburg, in the- lovely 
 valley of the Shenandt.)ah, where he had fought and 
 marauded so many years before, and " i\Iack,'' as his 
 eldest h<)peful was called, loved it and could call its 
 name. 
 
 "Mary Daniels," he wrote (my wife's name is 
 Mary), "is home from school on account of bad 
 shoes'" ("B.^D Shoes'' heavily underscored). "She 
 is fat and chubby, and we all hope to see you here 
 some happy day. Won't you ever come, Colonel, ancl 
 
 2'J 
 
see the old battle-fields, and stop with me in my little 
 home?" 
 
 Of course, there could be but one response to such 
 letters and we always made it. The Colonel's wife, 
 with affectionate heart, would say when she read them, 
 tearful and funny as they always were : 
 
 "Well, let's fix them up again;" and if we some- 
 times did it out of a scant abundance, they never 
 knew it. 
 
 When he heard, last year, that I was appointed 
 Pension Examiner, he promptly wrote me for a large 
 pension with full arrearages and allowances. He 
 didn't claim it upon any ground of disability, but 
 merely because he wanted it : 
 
 "Please send it as soon as possible," he said, "and 
 you bet we'll have an old-time picnic." 
 
 When he read that I had gone into the hotel busi- 
 ness, he instantly notified me that if ever in all the 
 world I needed a '■ Pirooter," it was now ; and Heaven 
 only knows how nearly right he was, and what a nar- 
 row escape my neighbors have had. 
 
 The last time I heard from Sam directly was by 
 postal card a few months ago. He wrote as follows, 
 barring the spelling : 
 
 " My dear Colonel, I have just this minute made a wonderful 
 discovery of a preparation for cleaning teeth. Make a paste of 
 emery dust and sweet oil, rub well with a brush, and wash clean 
 with kerosene. Make no mistake — I mean the teeth of a circu- 
 lar saw ! ' ' 
 
 30 
 
Only this and nothing more. I don't know where 
 or how he picked up the vigorous idea, but his an- 
 nouncement of it to me was pecuUarly Sam-ish. 
 
 It IS with something more akin to a sorrowful duty 
 than in any spirit of mere fun that I have evoked from 
 the eventful past, with its faint and distant sounds of 
 drums and marching, this remembrance of Sam. It 
 was thrust upon me the other day, by the following 
 item in the Ohio State Journal. I think by it that Sam, 
 poor fellow ! oppressed by the responsibilities of my 
 hotel venture, had started to tramp his way to 
 join forces with me, and fell, as many a greater man 
 has fallen before, almost in sight of the Promised Land. 
 It is headed : 
 
 INSTANTLY KILLED, 
 
 and read as follows : 
 
 [Special to the Ohio State Journal.l 
 
 Nelsonville, O. — To-day, Samuel Irick, of Harrisonburg, 
 Va., while painting the newly erected school-house, fell from a 
 ladder fifty feet, killing him instantly. 
 
 And so he met his fate at last I 
 
 Surely there were the widow's grief and the sore 
 hearts of children in the little Shenandoah home that 
 fatal day ! 
 
 In the great hereafter we know not who shall be 
 advanced nor who shall outrank the other. The 
 Colonel may be last, and the "Pirooter" lead the 
 
 31 
 
van. But shoukl Sam be in glory, and his old com- 
 mander fail to draw that blissful prize, he would bring 
 me a canteen of water — yes, of milk and honey — if he 
 had to steal it from the very precincts of the throne 
 itself! 
 
 Under the eternal law of compensation, it is in every 
 lamily the cripple or the sickly one that is the most 
 beloved because the most needy ; and it is around 
 the humblest and weakest of our fellow-soldiers who 
 helped us save a great Republic that we need to stand 
 the firmest, and of whom it must never be truthfully 
 said, that — 
 
 "When danger's rife, and war is nigh, 
 ' ( "lod and the Soldier's ' all the cry ! 
 Wlien dancrer's o'er, and wrong is righted, 
 
 Clod is t'orijot, the soldier sliglited 1" 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 013 763 346 2