■pS6 3<5 
 
 jiw 
 
 orw--'. 
 
 OUR REGIMENT: 
 
 J^ Is/LXXjXTJ^TtT IDK.-A.3ynA- 
 
 COMPILED FROM INCIDENTS IN THE 
 
 WAR OF THE REBELLION, 
 
 AND RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE 
 
 GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 JAMES s. Rogers. 
 
OUR REGIMENT 
 
 -A. 3M:IXjIT A.E.Y ID :Eh J^ li/£ A. 
 
 COMPILED FROM INCIDENTS IN THE 
 
 WAR OF THE REBELLION, 
 
 AND RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE 
 
 GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 JAMES S. ROGERS. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 
 (not published.) Z'' 
 
 ,"^/ 
 
 KQ.a.:^.£.V-/^ 
 
 '•V 
 
 Ofrw 
 
 ...-ro'^.:.. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 ALP^RED MUDGE & SON, PRINTERS, 
 
 24 Franklin Street. 
 
 1884. 
 

 Copyright, 
 
 1884, 
 
 By JAMES S. ROGERS. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 Xf^P96-0067l3 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 John Morton A Manufacturer. 
 
 Frank Morton Afterwards Captain Company A. 
 
 Mr. Robinson Afterwards Lieutenant Company A. 
 
 Bob Young Afterwards Corporal Company A. 
 
 Hans Breitmann Private in Company A. 
 
 Mike Brady Private in Company A. 
 
 George Clay ..Afterwards Captain in Confederate Army. 
 
 Uncle Adam Colored Servant of the Clays. 
 
 Federal Sergeant. 
 Confederate Captain. 
 Confederate Sergeant. 
 Confederate Corporal. 
 1st and 2d Federal Prisoners. 
 1st and 2d Confederate Prisoners. 
 1st and 2d Confederate Guards. 
 Mrs. John Morton. 
 
 Ruth Morton Sister to Frank Morton. 
 
 Maud Clay Sister to George Clay. 
 
 Jerusha Spriggins The Yankee Nurse. 
 
 Soldiers, Guards, Newsboy, etc. 
 
m^ ^^<^i}A^-^t- 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene 1. — Room in the Morton mansion. Brealcfast-tahh, r. c, with 
 dishes, food, etc, Mr. Morton, Mrs. Morton, Ruth Morton, 
 and Frank Morton seated. Mr. Morton reading newspaper. 
 
 Mr. Morton. Well, I declare ! This is startling news indeed. Can 
 it be possible that those i-ascals have actually opened fire upon United 
 States troops'? 
 
 Ruth. Wliat, father, you don't mean to say that the people of the 
 South are going to fight for their rights? 
 
 71/?-. M. Figlit for their fiddlesticks ! What do you mean, Ruth, by 
 speaking in that manner"? I hope George Clay has not filled your 
 young head witli wonderful notions about the wrongs and injustice 
 suffered by the Southern chivalry. If he has, he had better never 
 enter — 
 
 Mrs. M. [Interrupting. \ There, now, my dear, don't let's have any 
 discussion on that topic. 
 
 Mr. M. Discussion, Mrs. Morton, discussion ! It is discussion tliat 
 has roused us to see the lieight and depth of Southern iniquit}'. And 
 there will be no end of discussing, and cussing too, until the matter 
 is finally settled. 
 
 Mrs. M. Yes, yes. I know very well how bitter the feeling is 
 between the North and the Soutli ; but let us try to heal the breach 
 with soft words rather than widen it with harsh ones. 
 
 Frank. Now, mother dear, it is very easy for a good, kind Christian 
 ■woman like yourself to talk about soft words, and all that ; but I tell 
 you if this report is true, and those Southern devils have really fired 
 at our flag, there will be something more than words, soft or hard 
 before we settle this business, 
 
 Mrs, M. Read, Frank : let us hear the news that excites you and 
 father so much. 
 
6 OUR regimknt: a military drama. 
 
 Frank. [Efadiiu/.] "Washington, April 14, 1861. News has just 
 reached here by private despatch that the Southern forces lately organ- 
 ized at Charleston, Soutli Carolina, are to open fire on Fort Sumter 
 immediately. Later. The Secretary of War has just received a tele- 
 gram saying that firing has begun, and that Major Anderson has been 
 called upon to surrender the furt to the Confederate States Army." 
 
 Confederate States! Father, if this report is true, and I fear it is, 
 I for one will volunteer to go and help thrash the impudent rascals, 
 and sacrifice mv life, if need be, in fighting for our Union and our 
 flag. 
 
 Mr. M Nolil}^ spoken, my brave boy ! I see the true blood of the 
 Mortons flows in your veins. You have my free consent to go ; and 
 if our country needs the help of old men like myself, I too will do 
 what I can to preserve the Union, which the Mortons of the Revolution 
 fought so l)ravely to establish. 
 
 Ruth. Frank ! I hope there will be no need of your going to 
 war. Tlie idea of one jiart of our people fighting tlie other part is 
 too dreadful to think of. 
 
 ]\fr. M. Yes, yes. The shoe pinches pretty close, I know ; but I 
 tell you now, once for all, love and family and kindred cannot and 
 shall not stand in the way of duty to our country. 
 
 Mrs. M. You little think, Frank, how hard it would be for your 
 sister and for me to have you, my dear boy, in sucli danger. And 
 then suppose you should meet some of your classmates, possibly your 
 own Maud's brother on the battle-field. 
 
 Frank. Mother, I love George Clay as a brother, liotli for his own 
 sake and because he is shortly to become the liusl)and of my sister ; 
 and God knows I care more for his sister than for any one on earth, 
 for she is mv promised wife. But if George Clay takes up arms 
 against tliis govermnent, then good by friendsliip and farewell love 
 il/as. M., ircepinrj, puts away dishes, etc. 
 
 Ruth. O Frajik, liow can you ! 
 
 Mr. M. Right, my boy ; quite right, quite riglit. 
 
 Frank. But mother, don't work yourself into tears l»efore tliere is 
 anything to cry for. This may all blow over yet. I will go down 
 town and see if I can get any more news. [E.r!t i,.] 
 
 Mr. M. And I will go to the mill and look after tliat last invoice of 
 cotton. If we are to have a war, it may be the last I shall get for 
 many a day. 
 
 Ruth. Oh, fatlier dear, this talk has really friglitened me ! I know 
 what terril)le liitterness exists between the two sections, and I fear for 
 
OUR RKGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. / 
 
 the result. George wr«te me tli.it things looked threateuingly, and he 
 feared his visit would be indefinitely postponed. 
 
 j\fr. M. Well, well, child, don't worry before you are obliged to. 
 If George is a true lover he will stick by you. If not, you don't want 
 him, or if he lifts his hand against his country's flag, by the Eterual he 
 can be no son of mine, — not if he should bring tlie whole State of South 
 Carolina as a peace offering. [Exit l.] 
 
 Ruth. Oh, mother, this is too much ! This horrible war will involve 
 u-i in fourfold misery. 
 
 Mrs. M. True, Ruth. But we can do nothing else than submit. 
 Let us pray that it may not come ; but if it does come, our Heavenly 
 Father will see that the sufferings of His children are not greater than 
 tliey can bear. \Exit r.| 
 
 Ruth. \Sol ] I know George Clay, and I know his sentiments on this 
 vexed question. He will talk for his side, just as Frank dues for the 
 North, and they will each join the ranks of their own. Love will give 
 place to liate. I can see nothing but sorrow, bloodslied, and deatli in 
 store for us. Would that death might come first ! [ Weeps.] 
 
 Enter Jerusha, l. 
 
 Jerusha. Law sns-i-day. Miss Ruth, what on airth is the matter on 
 you? There ain't none o' your folks sick nor dead nor nothin', I hope, 
 is there? 
 
 Ruth. No, not yet. 
 
 Jerusha. Not yet? Law sus-i-day, is there any threatnin' symptoms, 
 as the doctor says? 
 
 Ruth. Yes, Jerusha. Very threatening. 
 
 Jerusha. 'Taint brain fever nor small-pox nor conwulsions nor 
 lung fever, I hope, nor skyatica nor cholera nor none o' them horrible 
 things, is it? 
 
 Ruth. No, no. It is an inward trouble. 
 
 .Jerusha. Trouble o' your innards, hey? Law sakes, now that's too 
 bad. You oughter take some camomile tea, and some poppy syrup and 
 sweet oil, and soak your feet in hot water, and put a mustard poultice 
 on your stummick when you go to bed. 
 
 Ruth. No, no, Jerusha. You do not undestand my trou])le. 
 
 .Jerusha. Perhaps I don't ; p'r'aps I hain't nussed in lots o' jess sech 
 cases in all my forty years' sperence with the be.st families in the town. 
 I tell you nusses what is nusses knows a good deal more 'n most o' 
 these new-fangled doctors. Now there 's Aunt Polly Hokum, slie that 
 was a Thompson ; she had bowel complaint jest awful, an' after the 
 
o OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 doctors had gi'n her up they called me in jest to aee her thru ; hut laws a 
 massy, I says, says I, " There ain't no need o' that woman's dyiu'," an' I 
 pulled her thru in spite o' the doctors. Them doctors hain't never 
 treated me jest the same sence ; fur you know they told Job Snodgrass, 
 the undertaker, to be all ready tlie nextarternoon, an' he waited roun' 
 till he found 't wau't no use, an' he sued them doctors for breach o' 
 promise or suthin'. 
 
 Ruth. Did you ever read " Hamlet," Jerushal 
 
 Jerusha. Read who? 
 
 Ruth. " Hamlet." Shakspeare's " Hamlet." 
 
 Jerusha. No, I never knowed no such person. 
 
 Ruth. It is not a person, Jerusha, it is a play. 
 
 Jerusha. Now don't go to playin' things on me, jist because I never 
 had no chance to git au eddycation. Laws a me, if you had been the 
 oldest of thirteen children, and been brought up on a farm as I was, you 
 would n't have had no time for spearin into Ham, what you call him. 
 
 Rutli I did not mean to ridicule you, Jerusha. But Shakspeare 
 makes Hamlet say, " Canst thou minister to a mind diseased? " 
 
 .Terusha. What did she want to make him say that for ? Perhaps it 
 was n't to his mind to have a diseased minister in the family. 
 
 Ruth. No, no. Hamlet's mind was troubled, and he wanted the 
 doctor to cure it. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, now, it 's been my sperence always — leastways, 
 most always — that the stummick has a great deal to do with the mind. 
 My old grandmotlier on my father's side, — she that was a Perkins and 
 come from a mighty smart family of doctors and the like o' that, — she 
 used to say, take keer of the stummick and the head will take keer of 
 itself. 
 
 Ruth. O Jerusha ! you do not yet understand ; my heart aches to 
 think of the liorrors to which Frank is liable to be exposed. 
 
 .Terusha. Sakes alive ! you don't say so ! well now, I never ! I dew 
 declare this is the very fust time I ever prospected Frank had drinked 
 enough to give him the horrors. 
 
 Ruth. How do you dare talk so ; what do you mean? 
 
 .Terusha. Oh, don't git riled at me, Ruth ; why, I would n't make you 
 mad, not for the whole world, so I would n't. I did n't mean no harm. 
 P'r'aps I hain't got the rights on it. 
 
 Ruth. No, you certainly have not. Have you not heard we are in 
 danger of having a war? 
 
 Jerusha. A what? 
 
 Ruth. A fight, a war, — a cruel, cruel war. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 9 
 
 Jenislid. Law sus-iday, no, TJutli. I never heeru tell ou it. Oh, 
 how dretful to tliink on! I don't wonder it gives you the spepsy and 
 stops your stuniniiek from workin' rightly. Only to think that sech a 
 peaceable family as yourn an' so 'spectable too, should have a fight. 
 Why, dew tell what it 's all about. 
 
 Ruth. Now, .Jerusha, do listen. The people of the South are going 
 to make war on the people of the North, and Frank says if it comes to 
 that he sliall join the army. 
 
 Jerusha. Now dew tell. Yes ; I see. AVhy, to be sure. Yes, 
 sartin. 
 
 Ruth. Yes, and it makes me sick at heart to tliink of it. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, if such things affects your heart, why dou't you 
 stop a tliinkiu' about it. 
 
 Rutli. Is there a way to forget to think? 
 
 ./ernsfia. Laws a me ! Why yes, to be sure. I 've seeu Jlrs. Wat- 
 kins — she tiiat was a Black, and married Squire Hudson for her 
 second husband arter her first husband, John Taylor, was killed by a 
 kick from a mule, just as he was goiu' to church. Oh my land, I 
 remember that day jest as well as if 't was yesterday. We was jest 
 gittin ready to walk to the meetin'-house, wlien John Taylor and 
 Sairey Black — that was her maiden name, Sairey Black — went 
 along. Tliem two was a leetle in front of us, and John he was full 
 of his pranks. He see Wilbur's mule a standiu' side^ o' the road, and 
 jest to'frighten him, John he took a holt of his tail, an' the mule he 
 lit out, an' run like mad; but he sort o' went back with his hind legs 
 fust, jest tu git a good start, I s'pose, au' he took poor John right in 
 his stummick, an' scattered him all over the road an' Sairey's new 
 bunnit. 
 
 Ruth. Well, well, Jerusha. What in the world has that got to do 
 with trying to forget to think? 
 
 Jerusha. Oh, yes; let 's see where was I? Oh, I remember. I've 
 seen that there woman quiet like for the hour together. A lookin' 
 at nothin', and with her eyes sot on nothiii' and a thinkiu' of 
 nothin', with her head so empty of idears that she acknowledged her- 
 self that it rung jest like a holler brass kittle, without nothin' into it. 
 
 Ruth. Perhaps she was lost in deep meditation. 
 
 Jerusha. I don't know what she'd lost, nor whether 'twas lost in 
 deep or shaller medit — what d'ye call iti 
 
 Ruth. Jerusha, did you ever have a brother? 
 
 Jerusha. Law sus-i-day. Yes, Ruth, thar was eleven on 'em in our 
 family. Thar was John, he went to sea, and Jacob, well — he sort o' 
 
10 OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 went to the bad. But one clay he got terrible sick, and he got relig- 
 ion, and died that same afternoon. Oh, my sus-i-day, what sufferiu' I 
 have had on account o' them boys ! 
 
 Buth. Well, then, perhaps you can appreciate how I suffer when I 
 think of having my brother leave me and go to the war. 
 
 Jerusha. Law sakes, why it 's just because my brothers ivould n't 
 leave me and go off, that made me suffer so. 
 
 Ruth. Then it would have pleased you to have them killed, 
 would it? 
 
 Jerusha. Oh, sus. Ruth, it don't foller that Frank will git killed 
 by goin' to the war, no more 'n it follows that a horse will drink when 
 you lead him to the water ; nor 't ain't half so sartin as that a mule 
 will start back'ards instid o' forrads when you ketch a holt of his tail. 
 
 Ruth. You are bound to turn everything I say into ridicule. 
 
 Jerusha. No, I don't want nothin' in my reticule 'cept what belongs 
 there. But it's my perfeshnal 'pinion, Ruth, that you are borrerin 
 altogether too much trouble. You won't have no tears to shed at 
 funerals if you spill 'em all now. 
 
 Ruth. Don't talk so wickedly, and make light of such serious 
 subjects. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, then, don't you go for to act so foolisli like, or 
 you '11 git light headed and be a subjick for an insane lunattick 
 arsilum. Law sus-i day, child, trouble comes fast enough without your 
 goin' half- way to meet it. But yonder comes somebody hurryiu' up 
 the yard, like as if he was runuiu' away from trouble or suthin else. 
 
 Ruth. Where, Jerusha? 
 
 Jerusha. He's jest gone behind that clump of laylock-bushes 
 [bell rings], and there, he 's ringin' the bell. I guess I '11 be off — 
 
 Ruth. No, no. Don't leave just yet. Mother is in the kitchen, and 
 I do not look fit to go to the door. Do you please go, while I run out 
 and wash my face. If he wants to see mother or me, ask him to wait 
 a few minutes. If he calls for father or brother, direct him to the mill. 
 [Exit Ruth.] 
 
 Jerusha hastily arranges her hair, etc. Bell rings again violently. 
 
 Jerusha. Law me, what a hurry that fellow is in ! I wonder what 
 on airth is the matter? 
 
 Goes to L, opens door, and ad7nits George Cl4y. 
 
 George. Good morning, madam. 
 Jerusha. Miss, if you please. 
 
OUR HEGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 11 
 
 George. Well, good morning, miss. 
 
 Jeruska. Good morning, sir. 
 
 George, Have I the honor of addressing a member of the Morton 
 family 1 
 
 Jerns/ta, Well — yes and no. I am a uuss, sir, a perfeshnal tncss, 
 with the best of recommends from the fust families in the place, sir. 
 
 George. I beg pardon ; but is any one sick here ? I hope Miss 
 Morton is not ill. 
 
 Jerusha. Yes, sir, — that is, no, sir. Miss Morton — she that we. 
 call Ruth — has a distorted brain and a fevered imagination. She has 
 fears, and her fears strilve to her head, and to her heart also, as it 
 were, sir. 
 
 George. Would it be possible or proper for me to see her on busi- 
 ness of great importance? 
 
 Jerusha. Possible, sartinly ; but as to proper, why you and she 
 must be the best judges of that air. 
 
 George. Would you kindly inform her that there is one in waiting 
 who earnestly prays that he may receive a part of tlie rights and privi- 
 leges of this house, dedicated to love and held forth in the memory of 
 happy days gone by "? 
 
 Jerus/ia. Law sus-i-day. Well, I never. Wliy, them 'a almost pre- 
 zactly the same words that old Jolm Featherstone used to recite when 
 he was loony, aud said something about lodgiu' Down East. 1 can't 
 never remember that lingo, mister. Say it again, if you please, and 
 say it plainer. 
 
 George. I want to speak with Miss Kuth IMorton on pressing busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Jerusha. Law sakes now, that 's plain enough. All but the pressin' 
 business. [Aside.] I wonder if he wants to hug her. Take a seat, 
 sir, if you please, and set down, while I take your prescription to 
 E ith. [Exit R. 
 
 George. \Solus.'\ That is indeed a wonderful specimen of Yankee 
 femininity. I suppose all people have their uses, but I hope I shall 
 never have use for her. 
 
 Enter Ruth, r. 
 
 Ruth. Why, George Clay, where did you come from? How glad I 
 am to see you ! I have hardly finished reading your letter saying you 
 might possibly not be here for months. 
 
 George. And may I flatter myself that the fear of my not coming 
 found vent at your eyes, to make tliem red with weeping? 
 
12 OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 Bu'h. "Well, I confess that I have been crying. My telltale eyes 
 compel me to admit it. You know you always called tears a woman's 
 safety-valve. 
 
 George. Well, then, — now that the pressure is off, — let us talk seri- 
 ously and to the point, for my time is limited, and I came to .speak to 
 you on mattei's that concern our happiness if not our lives. 
 
 Ruth. O George, you frighten me with your terrible earnestness ! 
 
 Georcje. I am iudeed terribly in earnest. I little dreamed that 
 when I was invited to spend a college vacation in this house that I 
 should find here the one thing needful for my happiness, and stiil less- 
 did I dream that so soon afterwards the oppression and insults of the 
 North would compel the South to resent such treatment with the sword 
 and musket. But such is the case; the first guu has been fired, and 
 soon the South will become in fact, what it is now in form, a free and 
 independent confederacy. I have an appointment on the staff of my 
 uncle, the general commanding tlie forces at Charleston, and by him 
 have been allowed leave of absence to come to you and claim }our 
 hand. Your heart I know 1 have alread}-. 
 
 Ruth. But, George, consider, think Utv a — 
 
 George. [/iiternif>l/)i;i ] 'I'here is no room for arr^ument nor time 
 to consider. Our cause is just and will prevail. I offer to you a home, 
 friends, and as true a love as ever glowed in the human breast. You 
 are mv promised wife. It remains l)Ut to legalize our vows, and thus 
 establish our independence. Will you do it? 
 
 Ruth. () George, wliy do you put me to so cruel a test ? You 
 know that I love you — love you devotedly. You know, too, that my 
 father and brother are as fixed in their opinious as you are in j'ours^ 
 To leave my home, at this time and in this manner, would kill my 
 mother and bring n]>on me the cur.se of a father and brother. Let me 
 beg of you to remain here until this trouble is over. Bury all these 
 bitter thoughts, and I will implore my people to do the same. 
 
 Enter Frank, at r., unobserved. 
 
 George. Ruth, life is precious, and you are more precious to me than 
 life ; but the love of one's country is above and beyond both. Without 
 that, life would be a curse, and love a mockery. 
 
 Fj-aiik. [S/apj'ing Geokoe on shoulder.] Yes, yes, my dear noble 
 fellow, you are right. I am glad to see that your head is level, and 
 that you have come up here to join us in putting dowu this infamous 
 rebellion. 
 
 George. I have come up here, Frank, to ask my promised wife to 
 return with me, and have a home among a people than whom none 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 13 
 
 better exists on God's footstool ; a people whose rights have been 
 'trampled upon, whose liberties have been assailed, but who, by the 
 blessing of heaven, will show your Northern hirelings that they are 
 superior to them in arms as they are in blood. 
 
 Frank. George Clay, if you were anywhere than under my father's 
 roof, these insulting words would not pass unpunished. Yon have been 
 my warm and trusted friend, but your traitor words have forfeited that 
 friendship. The time will soon come when your boasted Southern 
 chivalry will crawl at the feet of our Northern hirelincjs. Go back to 
 your " superior people ! " but leave thi.s daughter of a hireling to the 
 protection of her friends. 
 
 George. And what word shall I take to my sister Maud, for whom 
 you profess such wonderful love 1 
 
 Frank. Tell her, as you were telling Ruth when I entered, that I 
 love my country more tiiau all else ; for without that, life would be a 
 curse and love a mockery. 
 
 Ruth. O George! O Frank! do not ruin the happiness of two 
 families forever by your mad quarrel. Think of our parents, and 
 think, oh, tliiuk of Maud and myself. Are all your solemn pledges to 
 be broken rather than that you should consent to differ in opinion and 
 yet be friends. 
 
 Enter Mr. and Mrs. Morton, r. 
 
 Mr. Morton. Wiiy, George, I am delighted to see you ! What 
 brouglit you here so unexpectedly 1 
 
 Mrs. M. Ruth was saying only a little while ago, tliat you wrote 
 you might not be here for a long time. 
 
 George. I came, my dear friends, to claim your daughter as my 
 wife. You have long since consented to the union; and the time has 
 come when my duty to her and to my country demands that 1 take 
 Ruth and provide for her as my wife, 
 
 Frank. Do not be deceived, father, by this man's fine words. He 
 is a traitor. He has insulted our flag and our people under your very 
 roof, and, by your leave, I will show him that he cannot do it ao-ain 
 with impunity. 
 
 Mr. M. What, George Clay a traitor, and asking to make my 
 daughter a traitor's wife? I would rather see her dead at my feet than 
 that she should bring such disgrace on herself and her family. 
 
 Mrs. M. George ! I have learned to love you as a sou, and your 
 sister as a daugliter. Uo not destroy all our hopes, and sacrifice those 
 innocent hearts so cruelly. 
 
14 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 George. Mother, — for I have already learned to call you by that 
 endeariug name, — you would be ashamed to call him son who would 
 renounce his country and refuse to fight or even die in her defence. My 
 Southern country is as dear to me as your Northern country is to you. 
 I am as fixed in my views as Frank is in his. Argument, tears, and 
 entreaty are alike useless. I go to fight the battles of my country. 
 You, Frank, go to fight for yours. To you, Ruth, I make my last 
 appeal : will you stay here, or will you go with me and fulfil your prom- 
 ise to be my wife ? 
 
 Ruth. George, that speech has given me strength to answer you. 
 Would you not be ashamed to call her wife who would renounce the 
 land of her birtli, her home, and her parents, to wed with one whose 
 first blow might be aimed at her father and her brother ? 
 
 George. Your conscience must decide whether it is your duty to 
 stay, and thus cast me off forever ; or to go, and by fulfilling your 
 promise make yourself and me happy instead of wretched. 
 
 Ruth. I am not yet your wife, and my first duty is to these, my 
 parents and my brother. If you are sick I will care for you ; if in 
 danger I will die for you. But I cannot, will not, join you in your 
 wicked warfare upon all else that is near and dear to me. 
 
 Mr. M. Well spoken, my noble girl ! 
 
 George. Then, Ruth, farewell, and if forever, tlien — 
 
 Ruth. [Interrupting.] No, no ! not forever. 
 
 Frank. If forever, all the better. 
 
 George. Mr. and Mrs. Morton, good day, and Frank. [Extending 
 hand ] 
 
 Frank. [Refusing to take his hand.] Not now, George ; I have not 
 so soon forgotten your insulting words, and were it not for tliese ladies 
 here you would have no need of going further to get full satisfaction 
 from these Northern hirelings. 
 
 George. Frank Morton, we may meet again, when you will beg for 
 favors at the hand you now refuse to take. 
 
 Frank. That will be when I am insane. 
 
 Curtain. Tableau. 
 Scene 2. — Street. Mr, Robinson, Bob Youkg, and Hash grouped. 
 
 Newsboy. Here 's the morning Review. All about the war in South 
 Carolina. Have a paper, sir ? 
 
 Mr. Robinson. Well I declare, those scoundrels have actually fired 
 at our flag, and are demanding the surrender of Major Anderson. This 
 
OUR regiment: a military drama. 15 
 
 will never do. If they keep on in that style, we shall have to punish 
 
 them with bullets. • > • ai 
 
 Hans. Dose beeples don't got no law for dose tings, am t it, Mr. 
 
 Robinson ? , . tt • • <- 
 
 Mr. E. No, Hans, their course is not lawful ; and this Union is too 
 
 good to be broken up by a lot of rascally politicians. 
 
 Hans. Dots what I dinks, too. Dose Union is bully, and eef dot 
 
 Bresident wants any hellup, by jimniiny gracious I joost goes mine 
 
 ^^ Boh Young. That 's right, Dutcliy ; we '11 jine sure as guns, and git 
 up sich a thunderin' racket roun' tliem secesh fellers' ears as will make 
 'em think the Etarual being 's broke loose, by ginger. 
 
 Enter Mike Bkady, l. 
 Mike. Phwats all this talk about, ouy how? Who's foightin', an' 
 
 phwats it aboot, I sayl . , . , • • ^u.. 
 
 Mr R Tlie Southern people say they are tired of being in the 
 Union, and so they are going to get out of it by whipping the North. 
 
 Mike Tired, is it ! Let the spalpeens go away, thin, to some other 
 place, and I'avethe counthry to dacint people. They '11 find tl>at a dale 
 aisier than thryin' to pliwip the biggest half of the counthry. 
 
 Enter Frank, l. 
 
 Mr R Good morning, Frank. What 's the latest news? 
 
 Frank I 've just come from the telegraph office, and find that the 
 worst has not been told in the papers. Those Southerners are a hot- 
 headed, impulsive people, and if we just meet them in dead earnest, and 
 show that we mean business, they will soon simmer down I fancy. _ 
 
 Hans. Dot vas yoost right. I dinks dot vay mineself, by shimmy 
 
 ^'7ZTk. I propose to get up a company under this call that Gov. 
 Andrew has just made for volunteers, and all who want to go can have 
 a chance to sign the roll to-day. We'll soon form a company, and 
 perhaps a regiment right here. 
 
 Bob Bully for you, Frank ! 1 'H be switched if I won t go right 
 straight down an' 'list. I rayther guess we kin about cook them fel- 
 lers' goose quicker 'n they cal'late on. 
 
 Mike Well, if ye 's is all a goin' I won't be back'ard aboot ccmm 
 forrard. We '11 thrash the divils mighty quick, and come home ag m, 
 for I don't want to be winteriu' around there all summer. 
 
16 OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 Hans. I yoost dinks, by shiminy gracious, I vill hellup fill oop dot 
 goompany minesellef. 
 
 Mike. Av coorse — you '11 do a dale towards filliu'. Begorra, if we 
 had a few of yous fellers in the front of us, 't would make bully breast- 
 works fur the army. 
 
 Boh. Now you 're shoutiu', Mike. Come on. Forrard, march, and 
 I '11 go ahead. 
 
 Exit Bob, Frank, and Mr. R., r. 
 Mike. Go on, Hans. I '11 kape in the rear rank. Now, march — 
 hay fut, straw fut. 
 
 Hans stops suddenly, which knocks Mike over. Funny business. 
 Hans. Oh, I did n't see you was dere ! 
 
 Mike. Sure you ought to have eyes in the back of your head, it 
 takes ye so loug to git your eyes behind you. Let me go ahead now. 
 Hans. Veil, it 's yoost der same. 
 
 Mike. Now, kape step, will yer? Put yer left fut foremost, the 
 fuslit time, and thiu bring the tother one to the front. 
 Hans. Yah, yah. I knows all dose tings veil enough. 
 Mike. Well, thin, lift, lift. [Hans walks close behind Mike, and 
 when Mike turns around he is knocked down by Hans's belly. Funny 
 business.^ Sure you lifted me off my feet ag'in. You '11 do to put fore- 
 uiust the head of the army for a batterin' ram. 
 
 Hans. Yoost you keep avay, und dere vas no drubbles. [Exit r.] 
 
 Enter Frank and Mr. R., l. 
 
 Frank. You see, Mr. Robinson, there is no trouble in getting men 
 to enlist. We shall be ready to report to camp to morrow afternoon 
 at the latest. Will you look out for the men a little, while I will go and 
 see that everything else is attended to. You had better begin to drill 
 them at once ; it will occupy their minds, and induce others to come in. 
 
 Mr. R. All riglit, Frank, or Captain, I suppose I must call you now. 
 
 Frank. I think there is no doubt about your being lieutenant. 
 [Exit L.] 
 
 Drum beats. 
 
 Mr. R. [Steps to r. and calls.] Those that have signed the roll, 
 take guns and step this way. We will have a little drill. 
 
 Awkward squad drill. 
 Curtain, 
 Assembling cf regiment. Drill. 
 Tableau. — Off for the war. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 17 
 
 Scene 3. — At the Mortons' home. Mr. Morton and Mrs. 
 Morton. Ruth at piano, singing. She chokes and stops. 
 
 Ruth, Oh, I cannot sing ; my heart is too sad. I conlcl not sleep last 
 night for the thoughts of my brother, and the hardships which he and 
 the brave men who are with him are enduring. If I were only a man, 
 I would be with them ; but I have been thinking that even as it is, I 
 can help them, or if not them, some others equally deserving. 
 
 Mr. M. Your head is full of schemes, Euth. What new project 
 have you now? 
 
 Ruth. I see there is a call for nurses at the hospitals, and I want to 
 go. You surely cannot refuse me so reasonable a request. 
 
 Mrs. M. O Ruth, don't think of it, I pray you ! To have Frank 
 away is hard enough ; I could never endure being deprived of you 
 also. Think of the dangers to which you would be exposed from fevers 
 and pestilence. 
 
 Ruth. But, mother, you know I should be with the best physicians, 
 and I could do something to comfort our sick and wounded soldiers. 
 Father can go with me to Washington, and if he decides it is not a 
 proper place for me to stay, I promise you I will return with him. 
 What do you say, father? 
 
 Mr. M. That is for you and your mother to decide. My heart is so 
 full, and my interest in the cause so great, that I can hardly refrain 
 from trying to go myself, in spite of my age. ' However hard it may 
 be to part with you, I do not feel like denying you such a noble wish. 
 
 Ruth. There, mother. You see, father is willing. It may not be 
 long before our family will be united again in peace and happiness. 
 
 Mrs. M. Ruth, you are my only daughter; my first-born has left 
 me, and must I lose my baby too? I cannot say no, but you must not 
 compel me to say yes. You have always been good and true, and may 
 God bless and keep you in whatever position you feel called upon to 
 occupy. 
 
 Ruth. Bless you, dear mother, God bless you both. You have 
 indeed made me happy. Now that you have consented, there is not a 
 moment to lose. I have been scraping lint and making bandages for the 
 last month, and I fear you will find your rag-bag and old linen pretty 
 well cleaned out. I will be ready to start tomorrow morning. 
 
 Mr. M. It may not be possible for me to leave the mill. We have 
 just taken a large contract from government, and now that Frank is 
 gone there is no one to help me. 
 
 Mrs. M. Suppose our troops should be conquered, and our govern- 
 
io OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 ment be compelled to suspeud payment, would not this contract cripple 
 your resources? 
 
 Mr. M. Don't suggest such a thought, Mary. We cannot fail. As 
 John Adams said, " The cause will raise up armies and create navies. 
 The people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry 
 themselves gloriously through this struggle; but if we should fail, what 
 would all our possessions be worth, with a Union destroyed and a 
 country divided ? I will spend my last dollar and my last drop of blood 
 for our country and our flag. 
 
 Mrs. M. Well, well, John, don't get all worked up again. The fu- 
 ture looks awfully dark to me, and I cannot help thinking aloud occa- 
 sionally. 
 
 Door-hell rings. RuTH goes to door, l. 
 
 Ruth. Here is a part of the dark future you spoke of, mother. 
 Come in, sir. 
 
 Enter Uncle Adam. 
 Mr. M. Good evening, sir. 
 Adam. Ebenin, mawsa, ebenin, missus. 
 
 Mr. M. What is your name, my good man, and what do you want? 
 Adam. Adam was de fust man. Ebe was de tudder. f'se Adam 
 mawsa, ole Uncle Adam, an' I reckon I 'se de fust man what 's made so 
 long a journey sence ole man Adam was drove outen de garden, sah. 
 Mr. M. Well, Adam, where are you from? 
 Adam. Is you Mawsa Morton? 
 Mr. M. Morton is my n ime, — John Morton. 
 Adam. Sartin sure, you Mawsa Morton, — Mawsa John JMorton 
 No mistake? 
 Mr. M. Not the slightest in the world. 
 
 Adam. Cause a'ter all dis heap o' trouble I don't zacklv want to be 
 sayin' nuffin toMe wrong man, mawsa. Is you got a boy ole enuff to 
 git married? 
 
 Mr. M. I have. Do you bring any news from him? 
 Mrs. M. n you have any news of Frank, good or bad, tell us at 
 once, I beg of you. 
 
 Adam. Yes ; yah, yah, dat 's all right; dis am de right place, shu 
 nuff. Ole Adam on de right track dis yer time. 
 
 Ruth. Speak, for heaven's sake ! What of Frank ? Tell us all you 
 know. ^ 
 
 Adam. Golly, miss, dat ar would n't take long to tell you all dis 
 chile knows. An' in de fuss place I don't know nuffin 'tall 'bout 
 
OUR regiment: a military drama, 19 
 
 Frank, 'ceptin' I done know dat de Mr. Morton what I was tole for to 
 find had a boy by de name ob Frank, an' when you done tole me him is 
 you un's boy, I kuowd ole Adam was on de right track. Dat 's all 
 about Frank. 
 
 Mr. M. Where do you come from, Adam, if that is your name'' 
 
 Adam. Yes, mawsa, you guess zactly right de fust time]; that 's me 
 sure. I come from Richmond, Virginny, mawsa, an' I reckon I'se de 
 fust pusson what 's got froo dera soger folks since de shootin'. Golly, 
 Mawsa Morton, I don't reckon you knows nuffin 'bout de times down 
 roun' Richmond, does yer? 
 
 Mr. M. We have heard a good deal about it, but perhaps you can 
 give us some fresh information. 
 
 Adam. Golly, mawsa, I'se poo' man, an' ain't got nuffin for give yer. 
 But I'se had right hard times gittin yere. I done got cotehed two 
 times, an' once I runned away, an' t'other time I specks I hurt somebody. 
 I never stopped to ax. But you see I had to do it, for when Miss Clay 
 she tell me for to fine you out, my goodness, man, dar ain't nuffin 
 can stop dis chile. 
 
 All. Miss Clay? Maud? 
 
 Adam. Yes, dat 's her, Miss Maud Clay. Oh my golly, I sets heaps 
 by dat ar gal. 
 
 Mrs. M. Well, what did Miss Clay send you here for? What word 
 do you bring' 
 
 Adam. Why, bress your heart, missus, old Adam could n't tell you 
 half she said. She said, " Here Adam, you jest git froo dem lines, an' go 
 
 to , an' fin' Mr. Morton, an' you won't haf to come back no 
 
 more, an' you '11 be free and dey '11 give you heaps for eat," an' all dat. 
 
 Mr. M. Yes, yes, Adam, you shall be well cared for ; but was this 
 all that brought you here? 
 
 Adam. Oh, no, mawsa. Dese yer two legs day done fetched me 
 yere, an' I would n't have come for all de close an' all de bacon and all 
 dat, ef Miss Maud had n't 'a' sent me, for I hated to leave poo' Miss 
 Maud all alone down dere. 
 
 Mrs. M. Well, what on earth did she send you for? Don't keep us 
 waiting any longer. 
 
 Adam. Well, she sent heaps o' howdye to all four of you put to- 
 gedder, an' she said her letter would tell you all about it. 
 
 Mr. M. But we have not received any letter. 
 
 Adam. I reckon dat 's so, sartin sure. 
 
 Ruth. Where is the letter ? Did you bring a letter from Miss Clay? 
 
 Adam. Oh golly, miss, I done forgot all about dat ar letter. Shu 
 
20 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 nuff, dat 's just de t'iug what she said you would want. I reckon I put 
 dat letter somewhar. Those sojers dey sarched an' dey sarched, but I 
 don't reckon dey done got dat ar letter. [Business.] Here 't is. [Holds 
 up piece of paper.] 
 
 liiith. [Snatching paper, reads.] " To whom it may concern. Pass 
 this man through the lines on business important to the army. Rob't 
 E. Lee, General Commanding, C. S. A." This is not a letter from 
 Maud. Look again. 
 
 Adam. No, dat ar ain't no letter, shu nuff. Golly, miss, I done for- 
 got whar dat ar letter is hid. I'se got him somewhar, sartiu shoo. 
 [Business.] Dar. I'se got him now for sartin. [Passes another paper 
 to Ruth.] 
 
 Buth. [Taking it, reads.] " Pass this man to the rear without delay. 
 G. B. McClellan, Brig. Gen'l Commanding, U. S. A." Why, this is 
 another pass, try again. [More business.] 
 
 Adam. Great golly, miss. I specks I'se got him in todder boot. 
 Yes, yes, here 't is, shu nuff. 
 
 Huth. [Taking letter, reads.] 
 
 "Richmond, Va., Sept. 7, 1861. 
 
 "My dear Friends, — In my agony of despair I send my trusted ser- 
 vant Adam with this letter, which I dare not send through the mail, as all 
 letters are now examined ; and this would be withheld as contraband, 
 and subject me to insult and annoyance. My dear brother, in spite of 
 all I could say, has enlisted in tlie Southern army. My father has 
 been pressed into doing duty as home guard ; and my poor mother, 
 overcome by grief, has passed beyond the river where wars and rumors 
 of wars are never known." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Clay dead ? 
 
 Adam. Yes, miss, dat am a fac'; poo' missus, she elar done gone 
 for shoo. 
 
 Ruth. [Resuming reading.] " I am left alone in our deserted home, 
 and you must know that my sympathies are not with the South. 
 
 " Believing that you hold similar sentiments with me, I beg to be 
 allowed to seek shelter under your roof, if by any means I can make 
 my escape from this place. Please reply by mail at once, directing to 
 care Major Strong, commanding advanced pickets, Richmond, Virginia. 
 Leave the letter unsealed, and simply write yes or no. With love to 
 all, and anxiously awaiting your reply, I remain, 
 
 " Affectionately your friend, 
 
 "Maud Clay." 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 21 
 
 Mr. M. That girl s heart is in the right place. Her Northern edu- 
 cation did better for her than George's did for him. 
 
 Mrs. M. Write quickly, Ruth, and we will send the letter by 
 to-night's mail. 
 
 Ruth. Shall I say yes or no? 
 
 Mr. and Mrs, M. Say yes — yes — yes, of course. 
 
 Mr. M. And now, Adam, we must provide for you. I think, Mary, 
 some of my clothes will fit him. Select something good, and we will 
 get his old duds off as soon as possible. 
 
 Mrs M. I will go now, while Ruth is writing to Maud. \^Exit Mrs. 
 M. K.] 
 
 Ruth goes to table and writes, 
 
 Mr. M. Well, Adam, I suppose you will want to work at some- 
 thing. Wliat can you do? 
 
 Adam. Anything, mawsa, eberyting. Hoe corn, pick cotton, mind 
 de niggers, feed de hogs, and tote things. Pore missus, slie 's done 
 died, an' Mawsa Clay, he 's off in de home geerd, an' Mawsa George 
 he 's done made a gineral or cap'n or suffin, an' de ole place is all 
 broke up ; dar ain't nuffin for eat, and I 'se done weary of dat ar place 
 anyhow. 
 
 Mr. M. How old are you Adam? 
 
 Adam. I dunno rightly, mawsa, how old I is. I reckon I 'se six- 
 teen or eighty like. 
 
 Mr. M. Why, don't you know when you were born? 
 
 Adam. No, Mawsa Morton. I specks I was dere dough, shoo for 
 sartin. 
 
 Mr. M. Yes, you were probably on hand at the time of your birth ; 
 but what year was it ? 
 
 Adam. Oh, yes, I knows dat much ! It was just free year lackin' a 
 moon arter de big star fell ; dat was jess de time. My ole granny she 
 done know all about dat ar. 
 
 Enter Mrs. M. r. 
 
 Mrs. M. The clothes are all ready in the kitchen chamber. 
 
 Ruth. And here 's the letter, ready for mailing. 
 
 Mr. M. I 'U take it to the office at once. Come this way, Adam, 
 and I '11 show you to the chamber. 
 
 Exit Mr. M. and Adam, r. 
 
 Ruth. Oh, how glad I am that Maud is coming! Now I feel more 
 contented to leave you, for you will have her for a companion. 
 
 Mrs. M. Yes, that will indeed be some comfort; but I fear she may 
 be prevented from coming. 
 
22 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 Ruth. Well, I declare, you look on tlie very blackest side of every- 
 thing. 
 
 Enter Adam, e. 
 Mis. M. Yes, and here comes the blackness again. Well, Adam, 
 how do you like your new clotlies? 
 
 Adam. Like, missus, why, I like 'em too much. Day done make 
 new man outen ole Adam. Gollys, I hain't never had no sech clo's 
 as dese sence I was boned into dis yer world. May de good Lord in 
 heb'n bress you all for dese yer nice tings. Look a' dat ! Look a' dat ! 
 \^Business.^ See dese yer nice pockets. My golly! [Brings out pieces of 
 silver.'] What 's dat arl Silver? Silver for shoo. How come dis 
 yer money in dar? Dat 's true money, I '11 be bound. [Business.] 
 
 Mrs. M. Yes, Adam. I thought you would like a little spending 
 money. 
 
 Adam. Bress you, missus, bress you all — two of you boff put 
 togedder. 
 
 Oh praise, member, praise God, 
 Praise God until I die. 
 I want some valiant a soldier here. 
 For to help me bar de cross. 
 
 Ruth. What a musical voice. Give us another song. 
 
 Adam sings. 
 
 Curtain. 
 Tableau. Adam's dream. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 23 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene 1. — The Scouts. Enter Frank iwVA Bob Young, Hans, 
 Mike, and anotlier soldier. 
 
 Franh. It was near this place, I think, that the Johnnies had their 
 outer picket hue when we drove them yesterday. 
 
 Hans. I dinks I sees two, tree, sev'ral mens in dose pushes, oonder 
 der bank yoost outside der fence. 
 
 Mike, [fliding behind Hans.] Moind yer eye. Captain. Begorra, 
 the woods furninst the hill may be as full of the divils as an egg is of 
 mate. It 's not soon I '11 f urgit how the spalpeens sneaked up behind us 
 yesterday, an' kim near gobblin the whole pack of us. 
 
 Bob. Wall, we was too many for 'em that time, and I don't cal'late 
 they '11 ketch us asleep if I know myself. Them tarnal critters is 
 plaguy foxy though, and the wust part on it all is they 're on their 
 own ground. By the great horn spoons, if this was Cape Ann I don't 
 guess them fellers would have much of a show if they was ten times as 
 many as we be. Wouldn't we give 'em a racket, though, over them 
 hills and quarries ? 
 
 Hans. I dond yoost vant dem putterent chaps around my Katriua 
 und der leetle ones. I dinks we petter not wait for dose dimes, ain't 
 it? 
 
 Franh. No, Ilans, they shall never call the roll of their slaves under 
 Bunker Hill JNIonumeut until every man of the North is dead or in 
 prison. 
 
 Bob. Now you 're shoutin', Cap'u. By the great horn spoons, so 
 they sha'n't. 
 
 Mike. Divil a bit more territory will we give them. Faith I 'd help 
 shovel all the United States into barrys, and wheel them into the Atlan- 
 tic, afore these craythers should have 'em. 
 
 Frank. Boys, I think you had better stay here Avhile I creep up to 
 the fence yonder, and see what the chances are of advancing our picket 
 line to that point. Those stumps and trees will protect us from the 
 sharpshooters' bullets, if we can get there after dark to-night. Here, 
 Bob, take my glass and watch me. Wait for me to wave my hand this 
 way, before you come on. 
 
24: OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 Bob. Be careful, Captain ; don't go too far. 
 
 Mike. Sure I 'd rather lose my right hand than to have the hair of 
 yer head hurted by them divils. 
 
 Frank goes off, l. 
 
 Bob. Well, boys, see that your traps are in order. I don't just 
 like the looks of this 'ere. We may have music soon. It 's about time 
 for the lieutenant to come up with his men. 
 
 Hans. Here gomes de poys. Mine goot gracious, dot vos petter as 
 goot. I don't yoost like a big fight mit nobody on our side to it. 
 
 Enter Lieutenant with men. 
 
 Lieut. Well, boys, where is the Captain'? 
 
 Mike. Do you mind him beyant. like a hound on the scent. Oh, 
 I 'm sorry he went, be jabbers, for it seems too bad for such a foine 
 lad to run any risk wid such neighbors. 
 
 Bob looking through his glass. 
 
 Boh. I 'm gol darned if you ain't a reg'lar built poick, Mike, but — 
 hush. By the jumping .John Rogers, our captain is trapped. Those 
 graybacks have got him sure. The bushes and stumps are full on 'em. 
 
 Lieut. Boys, he must not be taken if we can save him. Let every 
 man fight to the death. Forward, double-quick, march ! 
 
 Exit 1,. Picket firing. Skirmishing. Union men sJoicly retreat. Rebs 
 follow them across the stage t,. to r. Rebs retreat and Union men 
 follow back Rebs re-enforced. Union men retreat R. Rebs come up, 
 bringing Frank as prisoner. 
 
 1st Reb. I say, Yank, let 's have that ticker. 
 
 2d Reb. You might as well fork over your dosh. 
 
 3d Reb. I '11 take them boots for my sheer. 
 
 1st Reb. Off with that coat. Quick, too. 
 
 2d Reb. I '11 take the hat. 
 
 3d Reb. Gimme your wallet, Yank. 
 
 All make a dive for it. During the business Frank attempts to escape. 
 Is seized and dragged back. 
 
 Tableau. 
 
 Curtain. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 25 
 
 ScEXE 2. — In Cajip. One man mendinci clothes. One cleaning his 
 gun. Four playing cards. One writing Hans acting as cook. 
 H.x'ss goes out, and one of the hoys puts cartridge in the kindling. 
 
 Bob. Look a here, Hans, what are you goiug to give us for dinner? 
 
 Hans. I don't got nutting for geef but dose ting vat you call de 
 salt hoss, und der hardt tack, vot bees so full of der vurrms. I dinks 
 ter pesht vay vos to make soup out o' dem fellers. 
 
 Mike. Musha then if I could have some baked pirates and a piece 
 of Widdy^ Maloney's pig, that I helped killthe day before I left home, 
 I could fight like a tiger for a month. 
 
 Bob. Yes ; and if I could have some boiled codfish and some 
 brown bread and beans, I 'd be willing to stand guard twenty-five 
 hours in the day for nine days in the week. 
 
 Lieut. R. Well, boys, we must not complain of our food. Remem- 
 ber what the poor fellows are suffering who are sliut up in tliose rebel 
 prison-pens. My last letter from home tells of poor Johnny Foster, 
 who was nearly starved to death before he got away. 
 
 Mike. If the divils should iver ketch us, Hans would outlive the 
 whole of us. 
 
 Lieut. R. How so, Mike"? 
 
 Mike. AVhy, don't you see he could live on himself — like a polly- 
 wog does — for the first year, and then he would n't be so lean as we 
 are now. 
 
 Hans. Oh, mine gracious! you don't petter talk such dings. Ven I 
 don't got nottiugs to keep me stretch out, I'll die sooner as you. 
 
 Bob. Come, Hans, stir up tiie fire. We want something to eat, even 
 if it is n't codfish, or Widow Maloney's pig. 
 
 Hans goes to the kettle. Lights a match, jioicder explodes, and tumbles 
 him over. All laugh and shout, and run to pick him up. 
 
 Mike. Oh, by the mither o' Moses, I belave my soul tliat Hans has 
 busted hisself intoirely. 
 
 Bob. He 's had so much commissary whiskey that his breath caught 
 fire when he lighted the match. 
 
 Hans. Oh, doonder und blitzeu, oh gracious gracious ! I dinks dot 
 fire blow up niit me into schmall pieces. Oh, mine Gott ! I dond know 
 nutting where is der rest of me. 
 
 Mike. Here 's another piece of you, Hans. [Handing him his hat.] 
 
 Hans. You dond got nuttings for eat if you blay such tricks as dot 
 two more times ain't it. 
 
 Bob. We '11 court-martial the fellow that put powder in the wood, if 
 we can find him. 
 
26 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 Hans. I yoost peliefs you liaf to look in der glass ef you vants to 
 find him. 
 
 Guard. [ Without.] Corporal of the guard, Post No. 3. 
 Soldier. That means you, Bob. 
 
 Bob goes out r , mail comes in l. and is distributed. Re-enter Bob r,- 
 ■with GeoIcge Clay disguised as a poor white. 
 Boh. Here is a man that wants to jine our regiment, and I rayther 
 guess he 'd better be taken to headquarters. AVhere 's Lieut Robinson? 
 Mike. Talk of pigs and you hear them squale. Here comes the 
 Lieutenant. 
 
 Enter Lieut. Robinson l. 
 
 Lieut. R. Whom have you here, Corporal? 
 
 Bob. A cracker, who claims to be from hereabouts. Says he wants 
 to enlist in our ranks, for he cannot fight agin the Union. You look 
 him over, and see what j'ou think of him. 
 
 Lieut. R. Look here, my friend, the corporal tells me you want to 
 enlist. 
 
 Georqe. Wall, ye see how 't is, Cap'n, I'se a poo' man an' I lives 
 down yere by de crick, rigiit over thar, t'other side o' yon hill. I'se 
 got more friends in de Norf than I has about yere, an' I don't want 
 nothin' to do 'bout killin' on 'em. Now de cap'ns in de Confedrit Army 
 foced me to jine 'em, so I done clar'd out, an' I had heaps o' trouble 
 in gettin' over yere too. It wa'n't such a tarble ways to come, but the 
 doggoned cusses watched me powfle close, an' I had to steal away in 
 the night like a thief, an' it give me rhumatiz powfle bad lavin" in tlie 
 swamps. 
 
 Lieut. R. But what do you want here? This is no hospital. We want 
 nothing but soldiers here, who will fight. 
 
 George. Oh, I kin fight, Cap'n ; I kin handle a gun right smart, and 
 I kin tell ye all about this yer country round yere, and wliar ve can go 
 and what ye can do, for I was bo'n an' raised in this yer countv, Cap'n. 
 
 Lieut. R. Wall, wliat can you tell us now about the force under 
 Lee ? Where are they now, where are they going, and how many are 
 there in liis command? 
 
 George. I don't just rightly know whar they be a goin' at, but thar 's 
 a powfle lieap o' sojers an' a mighty sight o' wagons an' right smart 
 C stuff, an' they done took lots o' Union sojers prisoners in the lass 
 fight. I don't reckon you uns have got folks enough to stan' agin 'era. 
 But I km tell yer of a crick bottom about a look an' a half or two looks 
 from yon hill, what 's powfle nat'ral like for a campin' place, and whar 
 
OUR regiment: a military drama. 2/ 
 
 a triflin' ganc: could keep off a power o' people. Tliar 's a fine spring 
 thar in a cave like, and right smart o' shucks for your bosses. 
 
 Lieut. R. And you would advise our going there to get rid of beii g 
 gobbled by Lee, would you? 
 
 George. Well, now, I dunno 's you 'd take the advice of a poo' ign'ant 
 stranger like I is, but if you 'd chance it you 'd be heaps better off, I 
 reckon. How many sojers is there in these yeer camps? 
 
 Lieut. It. Tlie muster-rolls are not quite completed; when they are 
 you can look them over. We shall issue a bulletin for your speciaj 
 perusal. 
 
 George. I don't zackly git all you say tbroo my head, Cap'n ; but, 
 hows'ever, whar will yer put me now, for I'm powfie hungry like. I 
 hain't had a snack o' nothiu' to eat sence sundown yesterday. 
 
 Lieut. R. If I were to act upon my first impressions, your carcass 
 should feed the buzzards before I ever fed you a mouthful. How came 
 such a ring as that on the finger of a poor man? 
 
 George. Oh, Cap'u ! fo' God, that thar ring was give me by my 
 pore wife. She put that thar ring on-to my finger when slie was a 
 dyiu'. A rich Northern man give that thar ring to her, Cap'n, for 
 savin' the life of his child when he was — a — 
 
 Lieut. R. There, don't worry your brain to hatcii up any more in- 
 fernal lies. I know you. That ring was given to you by as noble a 
 girl as ever drew the breath of life. Her name is Euth Morton, and 
 yours, you sneaking traitor, is George Clay. I have seen you too often 
 in my native village, a guest of Frank Morton's family, to mistake 
 you now. Seize him, guards. [Tears off disguise.] He is a rebel spy ! 
 This is partial revenge for the capture of our captain. [Tableau.] 
 
 Curtain. 
 
 Scene 3. — The Sentence. Officers and guards enter to ith prisoner. 
 
 Prisoner's hands bound behind him. Prisoner takes position, l. 
 
 Officers, c. Four soldiers, r. 
 
 Lieut. Robinson. George Clay, it becomes my duty to read to you the 
 
 order of the court-martial which lias just passed upon your case, and 
 
 to cause the sentence to be put into execution. You have been charged 
 
 with performing a service for the army now in rebellion against the 
 
 United States government, which is puuishalde with death. 
 
 " Headquarters, 3d Division 2d Army Corps, 
 Oct. 13, 1862. 
 "The court-martial convened this day for the purpose of trying 
 George Clay, a captain in the so-called Confederate Army, for being a 
 
28 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 spy in the Union lines, having attended to that duty, respectfully re- 
 port tliat they find him guilty of the offence charged ; and the said 
 George Clay is hereby sentenced to be put to death by being publicly 
 shot on the 25th of October, between the hours of 10 and 11 a. m " 
 
 You were found within our lines in tlie character of a spy. There 
 were no mitigating circumstances, and yet by the kindness of the pre- 
 siding officer of the court, you are not to be hung, as is usual in such 
 cases, but are to be shot instead. Have you anything to say why this 
 sentence should not now be put into execution? 
 
 George. Allow me to thank tlie court through you for the favor of 
 being permitted to be shot like a soldier, rather than hung like a dog. 
 My country is as dear to me as is yours to you. I have enlisted in her 
 defence, and have done my best to serve her. I was aware of the dan- 
 ger to which I was exposed when I accepted the service for which I 
 am now to die. But I die as" I have lived, — a Southern man, with 
 Southern principles. I only regret that I cannot live to see the riglits 
 of the South established, and her people a free and independent nation. 
 I have but one favor to ask, that you will take tliis ring, Lieutenant, 
 and if you live to see her who g.ave it me, tell iier tbat George Clay 
 died as he had lived, true to his country, and true to his love for Ruth 
 Morton. I have done 
 
 Prisoner hlindfokled, and kneels beside his coffin. Guards take position. 
 
 Lietct. R. Ready, aim. 
 
 Ruth JIortox rushes in l. between guard and prisoner, and cries, Hold. 
 
 Lieut. R. Recover arms ! Shoulder arms ! Order arms ! Young 
 woman, what is the meaning of all this? Explain yourself, and 
 quickly too. 
 
 Ruth. Read for yourself. 
 
 Lieut. R. [Reads.] 
 
 "Washington, D. C, Oct. 21, 1862. 
 "Gen. 0. 0. Howard, Commanding 3d Div., 2d Arsiy Corps. 
 
 "Sir, — For good and sufficient reasons I hereby commute the sen- 
 tence of military court-martial in case of George Clay, from death to 
 imprisonment at Fort Warren, near Boston. 
 
 " You will send him to Wasliington at once, where he will join other 
 
 prisoners to be forwarded East. 
 
 "A. LINCOLN, President, 
 
 and Commander-in-Chief, U. S. A, 
 *' A true copy, 
 
 "Attest: E. M. Stanton, 
 
 Secretari/ of War." 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 29 
 
 Lieut. R. George Clay, I congratulate you on your timely escape. 
 Yeu, miss, have saved his life and spared us a sad duty ; for however 
 vile the offence, no true soldier delights in taking the life of a defence- 
 less prisoner. Rise and behold your benefactress. \Tahes bandage 
 from George Clay's eyes."] 
 
 George. Ruthi 
 
 Ruth. Yes, George, it is I. 
 
 Lieut. R. Shall I present this ring according to your instructions? 
 
 George. No, no ! I can never part with it while my life is spared. 
 This day makes it a thousand times more valuable than ever. But, 
 Ruth, how came you here, and why is it that you have become my 
 deliverer? 
 
 Ruth. The story is a short one. I was nursing in the hospital near 
 Washington. I heard you were taken prisoner and learned your sen- 
 tence. Through the wife of the Secretary of War, I gained his ear and 
 obtained the paper which alone would save your life. 
 
 George. God bless you, my noble, heroic girl! How can I ever 
 sufficiently thank you? 
 
 Ruth. Not to me, but to our President, is the credit due. Thank 
 God for giving us so noble a man. George, if my brother should 
 ever be in such peril, promise me you will do what you can to aid 
 hira. 
 
 George. I promise most solemnly, but the chances of my ever hav- 
 ing the opportunity are very slight indeed. 
 
 Drum-call, 
 
 Lieut. R. I regret, Miss Morton, that duty forbids my allowing you 
 and Mr. Clay a private interview, and that even now the drum-call 
 compels me to separate you. 
 
 George and Ruth shake hands and part. 
 Guards conduct George offn. to slow music. Ruth stands watching. 
 
 Curtain. 
 Tableau. Ruth at prayer. 
 
30 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 ^'ZuIlZVT Z^'"''"''- ^""^'^ '"'' otker prisoners seated 
 attahle. Bread, coJ}ee, sugar, crackers, and cold ,neat ; plates 
 knives and forks. , /««te*^ 
 
 George. I begin to get tired of this bill of fare. It is wholesome 
 enough, to be sure ; but I should think they n.ight vary it a HttL wi 1 
 frmt an son.e kind of fish or fowl where 111 ate so plLty 
 
 IstAeb. For my part it 's heaps better 'n I expected, and ain't half 
 Zl", ''J' '"'' ^" °"' '^8'ment, right smart if the time. 
 2rfA.6 That's so. These dog-go„ed Yanks treat we uns like 
 humans ; but I reckon they s'pects to have to change places oon an' 
 are lookm' to be treated 'bout like how they treat us ' 
 
 George. I don't know about that. I f„lly believed we should hear 
 our guns on the main land before this, and I have looked every time I 
 
 ^:etrdtr:r^ '- -- ^'-'^ - - «— - "" 
 
 1./ lieb I 've done give up lookin' for that, Cap'n. 
 
 2d Aeb. If I thought we should n't beat 'em, I reckon I 'd take the 
 oath now and g.t outen this. I 'm tired C beiu' cooped up in vere 
 
 George. How dare you utter such thoughts? No true m^n wonld 
 sell his honor for his freedom. ""^'^ 
 
 1st Reb. When you come to that, Cap'n, there 's heaps of our neo 
 p e don't want to fight, and you know i. And for my sheer Trat'le; 
 be stuffed with Yankee bread than Yankee bullets 
 
 2d Reb. So'dl; but if the simple matter of swearin' a little 
 would give me freedom and bread too, I dunno whar's the arm 
 
 1st Reb. I hem thar things does well enough for you uns with 
 strap, on an all that, a feedin' on turkeys and'taters, while we ut 
 eats corn dodgers an' bakin, an' not much o' that. 
 
 2dAeb. les, an' kin git on ginerals' staff.s, an' have a errant 
 another way when thar 's a fight goin' on 
 whdpsT' """ '" '""" '" "'^^^ ^""^ «^^^- «f '^-vardice, you 
 
otJR regiment: a military drama. 31 
 
 2d Reb. No, I don't mean for to do that. But you know well 
 enough what I mean. 
 
 1st Reb. Yes, an' you know too that if it was put to vote to-day, 
 more 'n half the Southern army would skedaddle if they could. 
 
 George. Yes, and I suppose the Northern soldiers would do the 
 same. 
 
 \st Reb. I ain't never seed none o' that kind. 
 
 2d Reb. You must remember, Cap'n, tiiat you 've been yere more 'n 
 a year longer 'n we uns, an' things don't be so bloomin' as when you 
 got tooken. 
 
 George. Yes, that 's so, that 's so. If all you say is true, then our 
 chance is slim indeed. But let us take courage ; all may yet be well. 
 
 Enter sergeant of guard, R. 
 
 Sergt. I want you two chaps for this relief. Your time [to George] 
 comes at twelve. [Exit with \st and 2d Rebs, r. 
 
 George. [Solus.'] Those fellows have brought me all the newsl have 
 had of the outside world for fourteen long mouths. I sometimes won- 
 der whether they are fair representatives of our troops or not. If I 
 could get the guard to give me some reliable news of the war I should 
 feel better, but this suspense is unbearable. 
 
 Enter Sergeant with letters, R.J 
 
 George. A letter for me? Who can have written it. A letter. 
 George Clay, Fort Warren, Boston Harbor. Yes, there can be no mis- 
 take. It is for me. A woman's writing. Can it be from Ruth? Oh, 
 yes, it must be. No, it's not her hand. Who else, perhaps — why 
 what a fool I am ! I can open it and find out. What ! the seal broken? 
 Oh yes, my captors must liave the first reading. It 's from Maud. 
 
 " My dear Brother — " 
 
 Why, that 's in this State. [Reads.] 
 
 " With a heart full of sorrow, I write to tell you something of the 
 past year, I must be brief, and state only facts, or the letter will be 
 too long to pass the inspectors. 
 
 " You had not been absent four weeks before father was pressed into 
 service on the home picket guard. Our poor mother had a return of 
 her heart trouble, and died Che next week after father weut." [Dead? 
 my mother dead?] "I could not get word to father, and she was buried 
 without a minister or a funeral. In my despair, I wrote the Mor- 
 
32 
 
 OUR REGIMENT: A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 tons, sendmg the letter by our trustj Adam. They wrote me to come 
 Jiist as I was preparing to leave, I heard of the capture of Frank 
 Morton and of his confinement in Libby. Sending word to father I 
 urged h,m to try for Frank s release. He went to the colonel. Ho 
 words fo owed which resulted in father's being put in the chain gang 
 W en 1 1 „nk of ,^u and Frank, naked and starving in horrid prisol 
 cells, I get nearly frantic. Let me hear from you if possible. Address 
 Care John Morton, -n-uuieas, 
 
 " Your loving sister, 
 
 " Maud Clat." 
 Is this real or do I dream? My mother dead. Mv father in the 
 Cham gang. I ma Northern prison. My sister taken refuge in 
 Frank s home and Frank in Libby Prison. If the devil himself had 
 been consulted, he could not have conceived a more horrible plot. 
 Enter Sergeant, e,, ivith 1st avd 2d Rebs. 
 Exit Sergeant ivith George, r. 
 1st Reb. I wonder what Cap'n will say when lie finds us gone 
 
 Lit; wVrv 'TT'"'' "" ""^''^ *« ^^^« '^^ *h« «ath. 
 
 Ut Reb. We '11 be 1 anks for a while anyway. 
 
 Enter Captain u-ith Bible, r. Both Rebs place hands upon it. 
 Tableau. Taking the oath. 
 
 Curtain, 
 
 Scene 2. 
 Adam. [R ] Oh my gollys ! dere 's heaps o' trouble on dis yer ole 
 man s mmd, dat ar s sartin shu. Miss Maud, she would n't give me nor 
 herseff no peace till I Jess started ofT to git poo' Massa Frank on ten 
 -dat ar pnson. De bressed Lord knows I '1, do' it if I kin, but datt : 
 pmt, km D I done got froo dem Union sojers well nuff but how's I 
 gwme to git froo de Revel lines? Dat 's a black boss of ^nudder color 
 Dere comes a ofhcer. v.uiur. 
 
 Enter Reb. Captain, i,. Well, you old black whelp, what are yon 
 sneaking around this place for anyhow? ^ 
 
 Adam. Marsa Cap'n, I done lo.ss my little yaller dog. You 
 ham t seen nuffin of a little yaller dog. have ye, wid a bob tail, Ln' his 
 ears cut off, an' one sore eye? I dunno what dis nigger wil do if I 
 done loss dat ar yaller dog. ^^ ^ " ^ 
 
 Reb. Capt. Confound your dog ! Where do you belong? 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 33 
 
 Adam. I belongs in de camps, Marsa Cap'n. 
 ,Reb. Capt. Which camp? 
 
 Adam. De camps whar de sojers is, ob course. 
 
 Reb. Capt. What soldiers? 
 
 Adam. De sojers in tlie army. 
 
 Reb. Capt. If you belong to our army, you must have a pass. 
 
 Adam. Yes, Marsa Cap'n, I did have a pass till dem chaps in de 
 camps done t'ief 'em away from me. 
 
 Reb. Capt. That 's a likely story. Here, Corporal, look out for this 
 fellow. 
 
 Enter Corporal, l. 
 
 Corporal. Come here, ole man ; whar ye bound? 
 
 Adam. I don't mind tellin' i/oti, but dat ar cap'u thar he called me 
 cuss names, an' I wouldn't tell him. 
 
 Corporal Well, out with it. 
 
 Adam. Ye see, Corporal, a long time fo' de war, I done buried a 
 bottle of whiskey in yon field ; an' I hain't rightly had no chance for 
 to git him till dis yere blessed day. It's tarble nice. Smell o' dat. 
 
 Corporal I 'm dog-goned if that ain't the rale stuff. I reckon I '11 
 take this prisoner. [Drivls.'\ 
 
 Adam. Oh my golly, Marsa Corp'l, don't take 'em all. Do leave one 
 little sup for de pore ole man. 
 
 Adam sings. Corporal gets tipsy. Adam steals his coat, cap, and 
 
 pistol. 
 
 Adam. Dere now, I reckon I 'se all right once mo'. 
 
 Enter Guard, L. Halt ! Who comes there? 
 
 Adam Friend wid de countersign. 
 
 Guard. Advance, friend, and give the countersign. 
 - Adam. Don't stop me, Marsa geerd, I 'se got tings for de camps. A 
 soger on de pickets is a dyiu' iu de fits, and de cap'n he sent me to de 
 camps for to tell de surgeon, an' to tote dis yer truck. 
 
 Guard. All right, go on, ole man. 
 
 Scene 3, — Libby Prison. Frank, Hans, and other prisoners, sitting 
 071 the floor and standing about. 
 
 Frank. Oh, how much longer must I suffer iu this horrible place? 
 One by OLC my companions have fallen off, and their places been sup- 
 plied with fresh victims. Day after day we have been promised ex- 
 change, only to have the promise broken and our hearts broken also. 
 
 Hans. You talk mit yourself, ain't it, Cap'u? 
 
34 OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 Frank. Yes, Hans ; I was merely thinking aloud. 
 _ Hans. I tlond think dese times will be long. You stand 'em tree 
 times so mooch as I can. Dot Mike he tell how mine pelly so fat make 
 me leef mooch time more as de leetle chaps, but dose ish not so. 
 I ve gone so leetle as you, and not been here half so long time 
 
 Frank. True, true, Hans. You suffer more than I do, poor fellow ' 
 (He is already dying from exhaustion. ) But cheer up. we may yet live 
 to breathe the air again of our dear New England hills. 
 
 Enter Eeb. Sergeant, r. 
 
 All. Bread, brea 1 ; give us bread ! 
 
 Sergt. You deserve steel and cold lead, you miserable Yanks ! 
 
 Frank. Yes, we are miserable enough, heaven knows, and made so 
 by this cruel treatment. Oh, for the love of all tliat 's human, kill 
 us at once, or let us have something to keep off this gnawing hunger ! 
 
 Sergt. I suppose you 'U all get your liberty to-morrow ; but if I had 
 my way I 'd put a bullet through each one of you, just to see the blood 
 flow from your black Yankee hearts. 
 
 Frank. Sergeant, are we to be exchanged at last ? Thank God. 
 thank God ! 
 
 Sergt. Yes, every dog-goned one of you has got the privilege of 
 getting plenty to eat and plenty to wear, if you only take the oath and 
 ]oia our army. I s'pose you '11 all jump at the chance. 
 
 Frank. I for one never will. You may starve me, shoot me, tear 
 my hmbs off one by one, burn out my eyes, do anything. I will never, 
 never take an oath to support your hellish treason. 
 
 Hans. mine Gott! Vas dat de liberty you mean? Dot vas 
 youst to fool some more, ain't if? 
 
 Sergt. Well, Yanks, how about the rest of ye ? A ny one that wants 
 plenty of beefsteak, bread and butter, hot coffee, and all that, ciin have 
 It on those conditions. 
 
 Frank. Oh, you fiend ! Can you contrive any other way to torment 
 
 US'? 
 
 Sergt. Shut up, you dirty puppy ! Give the others a chance, or I '11 
 drop you. 
 
 Hans. I dinks youst as he dinks. 
 
 Ist Prisoner. I cannot go. 
 
 2c? Prisoner. I must stay with him. 
 . ^^ P'-'^07ier. [Lying on the floor.] I have not long to stay. My name 
 IS on the muster-rolls higher up. 
 
 Sergt. Drop us a line when you git up tliar. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 35 
 
 Hans. Do for Gott's sake please geef us some vater mit der pread, 
 Dose pread vas so hard to eat mitout vater, for de scurvy has loosed all 
 our teeth. 
 
 Sergt. Oh, yes ; you shall have hot biscuit and dip toast, old 
 Sauerkrout. {Exit Sergeant, r.] 
 
 Enter Reb. Captain, r. 
 
 Reh. Capt. Prisoners, I am sorry to hear that none of you will take 
 the oath of allegiance and join our ranks. I have heard this talk you 
 have had with the sergeant, and as I have the right to make a few 
 exchanges, I will name all in this room except you. [To Frank.] 
 You loud-mouthed whelp. If it had not been for you, the rest would 
 have enlisted. The rest of you Yanks will be taken out this after- 
 noon. [Exit B.] 
 
 Frank. my God, this is too much ! I shall never, never live to get 
 out. This ends it. Hans, my good fellow, when you get home, tell 
 them how I loved them ; tell them, Hans, that I died true to them and 
 to tlie dear old flag ; tell them — 
 
 Enter Sergeant, r. 
 
 Sergt. Here, go for it, you hounds. [Throws bread on floor. Hans 
 and Jirst prisoner fight for a piece of bread. Sergeant knocks Hans 
 down and kicks him. Exit Sergeant, r.] 
 
 Hans. mine Gott, dot plow proke mine ribs in, and I dond got 
 long for to leef now. my Katriua, my leetle poys and girls, I 
 vas so hopes I see you — but no, no. 
 
 Frank. Cheer up, Hans, you are going to get out of here and be 
 free this afternoon ; you will be better soon. 
 
 Hans. Yah, I shall be petter soon ; I shall be free. I see the big 
 gates swing their hinges on, and der bright sun and iler trees, and der 
 birds, and Katriua, and der leedle ones. Ha, ha, good by. [Dies.] 
 
 Frank, Yes, yes, the golden gates have opened, and anotlier bright 
 soul has flown from hell to heaven. Oh, how long must I wait for the 
 blessed release which death alone can bring? 
 
 Scene 4. — Street. Enter Adam, r. 
 
 Adam. Dem geerds day keeps sech stric' watch I can't fool 'em 
 no how, I don't reckon. I'se done got heaps o' money, an' I'se skeered 
 o' my life wid so much in my close. I feels jes like a walkiu' paymas- 
 ter's depatmeut, but I don't jes know if it 's de bes way to git froo wid 
 money or wid lies. Dere comes a geerd ; I '11 try lies fust, dey 's heaps 
 cheaper. 
 
33 
 
 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 1st Guard. Halt tliar, ole man ! What are ye doin' rouu' hyar this 
 time o' uiglit 1 
 
 ^ Adam. Well, Marsa Cap'n, ye see I clone loss my little yaller dog, 
 what I sets heaps by, Cap'n. You hain't seen nothin' o' no yaller dog 
 roun' yere I reckon, hev ye, Cap'n. 
 
 1st Guard. No, no. Cl'ar outen hyar. 
 
 Adam. But, Capn, I s'pects dat ar yaller dog is a hidin' yon side o' 
 de house dar. Dar 's anudder little yaller dog what he goes for to see, 
 Cap'n, you know, an' dey meets dar quite frequent like. Won't you 
 please let pore old Sam jist go yon way, Marsa Cap'u ? 
 1st Guard. Yes, go along, but be lively about it. 
 Adam. I done got by dat ar geerd, but I don't speck I "11 be so lucky 
 wid de nex' chap. Great goodness, if I kin jes pull de wool ober his 
 eyes, I '11 fotch froo suah. 
 
 2d Guard. Halt ! Who goes there ? 
 
 Adam. Nuttiu but a poo' ole nigger, Marsa geerd. I 'se Cunne 
 Tobin's nigger, an' he sent me to hunt for a ticklar button like what 
 he totes in he shirt front. He done loss him dis fo'enoon when he 
 went up in de loff to see de Yanks. He sets heaps by dat ar button 
 so he do. He done drap it somewhar twixt de do ob de loff an' de end 
 ob de street. I 've looked every blessed inch ob de groun' ober de whole 
 way, an' I ain't line dat button nowhar. He done promise me a dollar 
 to find dat ar, an' a lickiu' ef I didn't, so ye see, Cap'n, I muss look 
 mitey sharp to save my poo' ole skin. 
 
 20? Guard. All rigjit, ole man ; peel yer eye, but miud ye git back 
 afore I go off guard or it '11 go hard with all two on us. 
 
 Adam. I'll be back right smart quick, Cap'u, so I will. [Guard 
 passes on.] Now bress de Lord, de coast is cl'ar, I reckon I kin take de 
 lock off de do' wid dis yer skooldiver an' open a hole for dat ar button 
 I'se lookm' arter. [Exit Adam l.] 
 
 Scenes. — Pkisox. Frank seated on the floor near Hans's dead 
 hodij. Dead prisoner in blanket near bi/. 
 
 Frank. [Solus.} Alone, alone with the dead ; oh, I shall go wild 
 What 's that? [Rises as door opens.] For God's sake take away these 
 corpses, and bring me some bread. 
 
 Adam. Hush, brederin. Fse lookiu' fur de libin, let de dead 
 bury Oder fokes. Whar 's Cap'n Frank Morton? 
 
 Frank. Here, here ; what do you want ? Who calls my name ? 
 
 Adam. Is you Frank Morton, sartin shu? 
 
OUR regiment: a military drama. 37 
 
 Frank. All that is left of him, 
 
 Adam. I don't want to make no mistake. What 's yer sister's 
 name? 
 
 Frank. Ruth, — Ruth Morton. 
 
 Adam. Yes, dat 's right. An' what's Miss Maud's fust name? 
 Oh, my golly ; I 've gib dat ar all away. 
 
 Fratik. Are they living? Are Maud and Ruth alive, and — 
 
 Adam. Dar now, hush ; dat 's nuff ; don't say no mo', nor make no 
 noise; we ain't got no time for nuttiu but jes as I tells you. [Takes 
 off outside clothes.] Pull on dem breeches an' dat ar hat an' dem shoes. 
 Now hole on : let me make a man an' a brudder outen you. [Blacks 
 Frank's face.] Dar now, min' what I tells yer. Tell de fust geerd 
 you 'r' Gunnel Tobin's nigger, been a lookin' fur a shirt button, an' tell 
 de nex geerd you could n't fin' your yaller dog. Now member dat ar, 
 for your life pends on dem t'ings. Den you go straight for Marsa 
 Clay's house, but don't tell nobody that you'sgwinen thar. You'll 
 find plenty money in de linin' ob dat ole hat, an' some gold in de heel 
 ob de shoe. Now go on, bold as a sheep, an' I '11 go down outen de back 
 do' an' tell de geerds some mo' trash. 
 
 Frank. God bless you, old fellow ; good by till we meet at Glay's 
 house. 
 
 Scene 6. — Enter Frank, l. 
 
 2c? Guard. Well, uncle, did yer find the button? 
 
 Frank. No, Marsa geerd, I did n't fin' dat button no whar. 
 
 2c? Guard. Well, hurry up and get outen this. 
 
 Frank. Yes, Gap'n ; I'se gwinen. 
 
 1st Guard. Halt! Where are you goin' at ? 
 
 Frank. I can't find dat dog, an' I'se gwinen home. 
 
 1st Guard. Well, go long with you. [Exit, r.] 
 
 E7iter Adam, l. 
 Guard. Halt there, you black rascal. 
 
 Adam starts to run. Guard shoots. Adam Jails. 
 Tableau. Death of Adam. 
 Curtain. 
 
38 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene 1. — The Hospital. Frank arid Lieut. Robinson in 
 
 beds. 
 
 Frank. Tell me some more about the old regiment, Lieutenant. 
 Where did j^ou say you were wounded? 
 
 Lieut. R. In the attack on Petersburg. The men all fought like 
 heroes, and when at last tlie order to charge was given, you ought to 
 have seen tliera rush on the works. But just before we got there a 
 bullet took me in the leg, and a piece of shell hit me in the shoulder, so 
 that I could neither run nor shoot. I was left on the field, picked up 
 by an ambulance, and here I am. 
 
 Frank. But the boys — who were lost? 
 
 Lieut. R. I have had no chance to find out. 
 
 Frank. Oh, how I wish I could have been with you instead of being 
 cooped up in that horrible prison ! How long have I been here? I do 
 not remember anything after I stumbled on our pickets. 
 
 Lieut. R. You were brought here two weeks ago last night, but in 
 such miserable condition they did n't know which way it would turn 
 with you. I suppose I must wait to hear your story until you tell it to 
 the Angel of the hospital, as we call her ; then I can listen. 
 
 Frank. The what — have you got an angel here? 
 
 Lieut. R. Yes, indeed, we have ; and I have missed her sadly since 
 you came in. 
 
 Frank. How so? 
 
 Lieut. R. Well, for a week she was not allowed to see you, and so 
 could not come in our ward. But here she comes. 
 
 Enter Ruth, l. 
 
 Ruth. Good morning. Lieutenant. How are you, this bright morn- 
 ing? 
 
 Lieut. R. All riglit, I think, and a good deal better now that I can 
 see you again, and that the captain is himself once more. 
 
 Ruth. [Aside.] Thank God, he is. Well, Captain, we are rejoiced 
 at your improvement. You have been very, very sick. 
 
 Frank. Yes, I suppose so. Your face and voice both seem famil- 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 39 
 
 iar. And yet it is so long since I have seen a woman's kindly face that 
 any one would remind me of home, and — Can it bel No, no ; this 
 must be a dream. And yet — those eyes, that voice. It is — it must 
 be — Ruth, my sister. 
 
 Ruth. Yes, Frank, you are right. It is Ruth, and I have been wait- 
 ing two long weeks to have you know me. But I was so afraid you 
 would never recognize me again. 
 
 Frank. Was I indeed so far gone as not to know you, Ruth? 
 
 Ruth Yes, but never mind now. Tlie doctor says you are doing 
 splendidly, and will gain strength fast. 
 
 Frank. But tell me, Ruth — tell me how you came to be here. How 
 are they at home? Are father and mother living, and — 
 
 Rnth. [Interrupting.'] There, there, have patience Frank, and you 
 shall know all. Yes, everybody at home is about as when you left them, 
 over four years ago. But no more now. It may make you worse. 
 
 Frank. No, no. Every word you say gives me new life and strength . 
 Tell me all as fast as your tongue can run. I know that used to be 
 pretty fast. 
 
 Ruth. Ha, ha! Yes, that's a fact. Well, I will be brief, and go 
 into details some otlier time. I came to the hospitals soon after you 
 left, and have been here ever since. The war is still going on. Only 
 think, it is more than four years now ; but the South is getting the 
 worst of it. The slaves have been freed, and are fighting nobly side 
 by side with the whites ; and we are hoping every day to hear of the 
 final surrender of the Rebels. 
 
 Frank. Oh, that is good ! That is glorious! But to think that I 
 should have been shut up so long, and kept from my regiment and 
 from all that is worth living for. 
 
 Ruth. Well, you played your part, although it must have been a 
 hard one. But how did you get away at last? 
 
 Frank. Well, as you say, I will be brief. I had given up all hope, 
 when the Lord sent an angel to me, in the shape of a good old darky. 
 He let me out and told me to go to Clay's house. In my weak condi- 
 tion I wandered about all day without finding it, and when I did get 
 there a Rebel guard was before the door. So, weak as I was, I made 
 all haste to get outside the Rebel lines. 
 
 Ruth. But why did n't they capture you again? 
 
 Frank. I was disguised as a darky, and with the aid of negroes got 
 on splendidly, until I came to the outer pickets. Then in running the 
 gauntlet at night I was shot at bj' the Johnnies, and hit in the arm. 
 But freedom and pure air gave me strength, so I kept on, and the last 
 
40 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 I remember I was falling into the arms of a Union soldier, and was 
 dreaming of you and home. 
 
 Ruth. Yes, and when you were brought here you did nothing but 
 call for me and for Maud, and when I came you would drive me away. 
 But never mind, it's all over now. 
 
 Lieut. R. What was the idea of sending you to the Clays' house"? 
 [Maud enters quietly, l.] 
 
 Frank. I can't tell, I am sure. My first thought was that Maud 
 Clay knew of my being in prison and was trying to save nie, and — 
 Maud. [Interrupting. 1 Yes, Frank. You were right — 
 Frank. What, Maud ! Maud Clay ! you here ? O Maud, can it be ? 
 [Exit Ruth, r.] 
 
 Maud. Yes, it is true. When Ruth wrote me you were calling my 
 name, I came as quickly as possible, hoping I might help you. O 
 Frank, I have tried hard to save you, but all my efforts have made 
 you suffer more. 
 
 Frank. How so? — that cannot be. 
 
 Maud. Yes, Frank ; for when I heard of your capture, I got my 
 father to intercede for you. This so enraged the inhuman commander 
 that he gave orders never to allow of your exchange, and to compel 
 you to take the oath, or to die in prison. At last we contrived the 
 plot which led to your release. You are right in calling Adam an 
 angel. If ever a soul had a claim on the kingdom of heaven, his did. 
 He gave his life for us. 
 
 Frank. What, dead ! no, no, not dead? 
 
 Maud. Yes, Frank, dead. He was shot like a dog the very day 
 he assisted you to escape, and the commander, suspecting the Clay 
 family, placed a guard at our house. 
 
 Frank. And that was why 1 found a guard, and not old Adam or 
 you to receive me? [Firing of cannon heard in the distance.] 
 Enter Ruth, r. 
 Maud. Yes, that explains it all. 
 Ruth. Don't you hear the guns firing? 
 Lieut. R. Another victory, I hope ! 
 
 Ruth. Yes, and a big one. Lee has surrendered to Gen. Grant, 
 The President says we have troops enough. 
 Lieut. R. Thank God ! The war is at an end. 
 Frank. Amen. 
 
 Tableau. The Surrender. 
 
 Curtain. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 41 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene 1. — Return of the Veterans. Bummers' March. Meeting 
 of citizens. Cheering and congratulations. 
 
 Scene 2. — At the Mortons' Home. Mr. and Mrs. Morton, Ruth, 
 and Maud Clat seated. 
 
 Mr. M. Yes, it is iudeed true ; the war is at an eud. How different 
 are our feelings from those of four years ago, when we first heard of 
 the attack on Sumter. 
 
 Mis. M. Yes, and how thankful we ought to be that our boy has 
 been spared to us through all these years. 
 
 Maud O, Mrs. Morton, I am so happy to think that Frank will be 
 here to-day ; yesterday was the day for him to be mustered out with 
 his regiment. 
 
 Mr. M. Would that our happiness could be completed by the 
 return of your brave but misguided brother. But I suppose that can- 
 not be at present. 
 
 Ruth. Oh, why should I alone suffer ? What duty have I left undone 
 that I should be so cruelly punished? 
 
 Enter Jerusha, r. 
 
 Jerusha. Good morflin', all of ye. I hope you '11 scuse the invasion, 
 as the thief said when he robbed the hen-roost, but r'aly I could n't 
 help comin' down to help holler and cry at the boys comin' home. 
 
 Mrs. M. We are glad to have you here, Jerusha, on this joyful 
 occasion. 
 
 Jerusha. Law susi-day, wall now if that ain't the very same speech 
 you made to me the night Frank was born. I member it jest as well 
 as if 't was yesterday. 
 
 Maud. You have a wonderful memory, Miss Jerusha. 
 
 Jerusha. Yes, Maud ; but you need n't miss me. You can jest call 
 me plain Jerusha, if you please. 
 
 Maud. Well, then, plain Jerusha, have you heard that Frank is 
 to be born again into the family this very day'? 
 
42 OUR regiment: a military drama. 
 
 Jerusha. Laws-a-me ! why yes, to be sure, and I wanted to be here 
 on hand ready to du any nusssin that some sick kittens might need 
 when the time comes. 
 
 Mr. M. I presume they will need your assistance, Jerusha. 
 
 Jerusha. Yes, I guess they '11 need lip-salve, an' poultices, an' plas- 
 ters, after the first attack. 
 
 Maud. I thank you, but I don't think we shall need your services 
 at present. 
 
 Jerusha. That 's sort of a hint that I may be of sarvice in the 
 futoor. But here comes the lad, sure as Christmas. 
 
 Enter Frank, l. All rise to meet him. 
 
 Mr. M. Welcome home again, my dear boy. 
 
 Mrs. M. Oh, how glad I am that our boy has come ! but how you 
 have changed, Frank ! 
 
 Frank. Yes, mother ; four years make many changes. I should 
 like to make one more change — change off this stub for a whole arm. 
 
 Maud. And now I suppose I can welcome you. 
 
 Frank. Yes, Maud ; and may I be able to prove to you in the future 
 my appreciation of your loving labors for me in the past. To you and 
 to my sister [taking Ruth's hand\ I owe my life, my all [They talk 
 together.] 
 
 Jerusha. That 's jest the way, — latest friends is alius the best. I 
 wonder where that boy would 'a' been now if I had n't a brought him 
 througli the measles an' hoopin'-cough an' mumps an' scarlet rash an' 
 teethin an' coUery infanticide an' all that ! 
 
 Frank. What were you saying, Jerusha? 
 
 Jerusha. I was jest remarkin' that it 's fine weather for young 
 ducks. [Cheers outside.] 
 
 Ruth. There 's another regiment coming home. Let 's go and wel- 
 come them. 
 
 Mr. M. Yes, give 'em all they want to eat and drink; we can't do 
 too much for our returning soldiers. 
 
 All exit R. except Jerusha. 
 
 Jerusha. Law sus-i-day, I wish I had some man or somebody to hug 
 and make a time over. I 've knowed half these young chaps from the 
 time they was born ; but they 've got other fish to fry, an' have forgot all 
 about such airly acquaintances as Jerusha Spriggins. [Bell rings.] 
 Law me, there 's that bell. Nobody '11 hear it, I s'pose, so I '11 go my- 
 self. [Goes to door L. and admits George Clay.] Good mornin', 
 sir. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 43 
 
 George. Good morning, miss. Is any of the Morton family at home? 
 
 Jerusha. Yes, sir, they are all close tu. 
 
 George. [Aside.'] I believe that 's the same woman whom I met 
 the last time I came to this house. 
 
 Jerusha. [Aside.] I '11 be b'iled if I hain't seen that are face before. 
 
 George. Will you kindly inform them that there is one in waiting 
 who humbly begs that he may — 
 
 Jerusha. [Interrupting.] There, there, don't say the rest on it. You 
 made that same speech to me four year ago. 
 
 George. The very same ; and you anticipate the rest. 
 
 Jerusha. What du you say I du? 
 
 George. Why, you understand what I am about to ask of you? 
 
 Jerusha. Law sakes, of course I du. You need n't think I 'm a 
 nat'ral born fule, jest cause I can't put on airs an' talk Latin an' Greek 
 and all sich. 
 
 George. By no means. I think notliin' of the sort, ma'am. 
 
 Jerusha. Miss, if you please, 
 
 George. Excuse me, miss. 
 
 •Terusha. Sartinly, sir. Take a seat and set down, an' I '11 call 
 the folks. [Exit Jerusha, r.] 
 
 Enter Ruth, k. 
 
 Ruth. George. 
 
 George. Ruth. Do you still love me? Shall I yet be received 
 kindly into your family, after all the events of the past four years? 
 
 Ruth. Yes, George, yes. The cruel war is over, and I hope we shall 
 all learn to forgive and forget. 
 
 George. Amen, as far as I am concerned. 
 
 Ruth. But how did you get here? Why did we not know that you 
 were coming? 
 
 Enter Maud, r. 
 
 Maud. O my darling brother ! Thank God, you are once more 
 with us. Now the circle is again complete. 
 George. But where are the rest? 
 
 Enter Jerusha, r. 
 Jerusha. I am here, if j'ou mean me. The old folks and Frank will 
 be here soon. Them sojers look as though they had been starved for 
 a lifetime. 
 
 Enter Mr. and Mrs. Morton, r. 
 
 Mrs M. George Clay! The dead alive again. 
 
 George. Yes, Mrs. Morton, in moi e senses than one. I have come 
 
44 OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 
 
 once more to ask you for that boon which four years ago was denied 
 me. 
 
 Mrs. M. I have nothing to say now; my happiness is too complete. 
 Ask Mr. Morton. [Exit Jerusha, r.] 
 
 Mr. M. Our cup of happiness is indeed full. Yes, George, the 
 past shall be forgotten, and the future shall unite us, as it will the coun- 
 try, more closely and more firmly than ever. 
 
 George. Thank you, my dear, dear friends. God bless you for your 
 charity, as he already has for your fraternity and loyalty. 
 
 E7iter Frank, r. 
 
 Frank. Hello, George ! I 'm glad you are here. I shall have to 
 deny you my right hand, as I did the last time I saw you; but, old fel- 
 low, I '11 give you the left, which is nearer the heart, and bid you wel- 
 come back to our home and your home. 
 
 George. Frank, you overpower me. I had framed a little speech of 
 humiliation and repentance, which I was going to make. But you 
 have taken the wind all out of my sails. 
 
 Frank. All right. Salt it down, and put it away for future refer- 
 ence. 
 
 Ruth. But, Frank, you talk as if you had been expecting George 
 here. 
 
 Frank. Of course I was expecting hira. I have been working for 
 the last two mouths to obtain his release. Have n't I, Maud? 
 
 Maud, Yes, indeed ; and we intended it to be a surprise to you, 
 Ruth. 
 
 Frank. It is a long story, George, which you shall have in full in 
 due time. Your sister rescued me from a Southern prison, and my 
 sister saved you from Northern bullets. I thought I would complete 
 the saving process by gaining your release from Fort Warren. 
 
 George, How can I sufficiently thank you for all that you have done 
 for mel 
 
 Frank. By taking the oath of allegiance, which I gave my word 
 you would, and then we will liave a big wedding all around. 
 
 George. I have fulfilled your promise, and am only waiting to carry 
 out the balance of the programme. 
 
 Frank. Well, you are a trump. Then there 's nothing more to do 
 but to appoint tlie day and proceed to business. 
 
 Enter Jerusha, r with Bob Young. 
 
 Jerusha. Yes, there is. I don't propose to be left out of this pre- 
 scription, and am going to take my dose of Union restorer with the rest. 
 
OUR REGIMENT : A MILITARY DRAMA. 45 
 
 Frank, What, Bob, are you in for it at last? 
 
 Bob Young. Yes, Cap'u ; they say it's never too late to mend ; and 
 I thought I might need a nuss to help me through my declinin' years. 
 
 Jerusha. Ain't you ashamed? 
 
 All take positions. 
 
 Mr. M. And now may the God of battles, who has brought us out 
 of this fiery ordeal, and united us once more under this roof, unite also 
 in one everlasting Union, 
 
 THE NORTH AND THE SOUTH. 
 
 Tableau. 
 
 Curtain. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 103 914 7