UC-NRLF 
 
 ITY OF CALIF 
 
 32106017226207 
 
A- 
 
 CHECKERED IIFE. 
 
 COL. JOHN A. JOYCE. 
 
 There 's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we may. 7 ' 
 
 SJi akespcare. 
 Variety is the very spice of life, that gives it all its flavor." 
 
 Homo sum et nil humanum a me alienum puto." 
 
 Terence. 
 
 
 CHICAGO : 
 
 S. P. ROUNDS, Jr., 175 Monroe Street 
 1883. - 
 
Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1883, 
 
 S. P. ROUNDS, Jr., 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, 
 
 ELECTROTYPED BY THE ROUNDS TYPE AND PRESS CO. 
 
, 5 
 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE 
 Birthplace and Ancestry 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 School-boy Days 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 School in Montgomery County 25 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A Description of Lunatic Fancies 31 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Kentucky in Early War-Days 46 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 History of the Twenty-fourth Kentucky Regiment 50 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Battle of Shiloh 58 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Corinth ahd Alabama Campaign 63 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Bragg 's Raid and Other Kentucky Matters 72 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Louisville Experiences 77 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Knoxville Expedition 86 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Siege of Knoxville 92 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Chattanooga and Atlanta 104 
 
8 INDEX 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Kencsaw Mountain : j j -. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Battles About Atlanta ; \ 2 o 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Leaving the Army. Experience as a School-Teacher 1 28 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Tax-Collector and Candidate for Legislature 1 34 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Studying Law in Dubuque 138 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Washington City and its People 142 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Washington its Romantic and Material Elements 150 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 Impeachment of Pres't Johnson. Leaving the Internal Revenue Office 158 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 Official and Personal Experiences in Missouri 164 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Decoration-Day at Jefferson Barracks 1 70 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Effort to Obtain a Foreign Mission. Oration at an Emancipation Cele- 
 bration 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The Pacific Coast. Experiences and Incidents in California, Oregon 
 
 and Washington Territory 1 86 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Return from California. Visit to Brigham Young. Pen Sketches of 
 
 Old Friends and Associates 216 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The WhisKey Troubles. Indictment, Trial and Imprisonment. Ad- 
 dress to the Court and jury, etc 237 
 
 General F. E. Spinner's Autograph Letter -. 245 
 
 General Sherman's Autograph Inscription 247 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Prison Reform 267 
 
 Fac Simile Letter of Chauncey I. Filley 280 
 
INDEX. 9 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 The Sylph Dispatch , 281 
 
 Fac Simile Letter of General Babcock 284 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Pardon and Other Matters 287 
 
 Autograph Letter of President Hayes 298 
 
 Conclusion , ,,,,, , 300 
 
 POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 Kiss While You Can 303 
 
 Katie and 1 204 
 
 My Baby's Eyes 304 
 
 Twenty Years 305 
 
 Dreaming 305 
 
 The Sunbeam 306 
 
 A Toast 306 
 
 God is Near 307 
 
 Forgetting 307 
 
 Waiting 308 
 
 Mattievan 308 
 
 Mazy 309 
 
 The First Kiss 309 
 
 My Little Robins 310 
 
 Masonic Bright Light 311 
 
 Toll the Bell 312 
 
 My War-Hor.,e, "Bob." 312 
 
 Ocean M emories 313 
 
 When I am Dead 314 
 
 The Days are Growing Shorter 314 
 
 Oak Hill 3 ! 5 
 
 The Attorney-at-Law 3 l6 
 
 Unknown 3*7 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 There is no human life without its lesson. Every bud that 
 grows gives promise of leaf and fruit ; every wind wafted over 
 the ocean of life brings pleasure or pain to some heart. 
 
 Providence has visited me with a variety of misfortunes, yet 
 like Job I have borne the trials without complaint, and with 
 fortitude waited silently for redemption and peace. 
 
 This volume is true from beginning to end ; and shows the 
 milestones of a human life that may guide some pilgrim around 
 the quicksands I encountered. 
 
 The world has misunderstood me in the past ; and now, after 
 eight years of silence, I give for my family, friends and gen- 
 erous hearts, the whole truth of a checkered life. 
 
 The detailed history of the 24th Kentucky Union Regiment, 
 from Lexington, Shiloh, Perryville, Nashville, Knoxville, Ken- 
 esawMountain and Atlanta is given in full from daily memo- 
 randa made by a soldier who saw and felt the weariness of 
 march and shock of battle. 
 
 Thousands of living mortals can testify to the veracity of 
 my statements. 
 
 Seldom has a man of forty run the gauntlet of waif, scholar, 
 lunatic, soldier, schoolmaster, poet, politician, orator, lawyer, 
 prisoner and patriot. 
 
 He that runs may read, ponder, and beware. 
 
 J. A. J. 
 

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ECKEREDIIFE 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BIRTH-PLACE AND ANCESTRY. 
 
 My father was the youngest of seven children. He was the 
 favorite of his mother, and his nature was more generous than 
 that of any other member of the family. At the early age of 
 seventeen he became a husband, running away from school 
 with my mother, who was only fourteen years old. They had 
 known each other from childhood, separated only by a salmon 
 stream that ran by the village of Shraugh, near Westport, on 
 the western shore of Ireland. 
 
 The parents of my father were dead when the runaway 
 match occurred, and as the old stone house in the village re- 
 mained in charge of the youngest son and sister, the newly 
 fledged couple immediately began the cares of married life in 
 the old home. A small holding of land, a horse, cow, sheep, 
 pigs and poultry constituted their worldly wealth ; and with 
 a heart as light as the mountain air my father tilled the soil, 
 tended his flocks, and drew upon the river and sea for luxuries 
 to supply his humble board. The village acknowledged him 
 a leader in whatever he undertook, and although his youth and 
 wayward nature aroused opposition, the old people would list- 
 en to his counsel and act upon his judgment. He had a good 
 education for the time. What he lacked in the embellishment 
 
 17 
 
i8 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 of scholastic arts he made up in natural attainments culled 
 from the winding road of observation. When the labors of 
 the day were ended, he wandered into the mountain wilds to 
 enjoy a dash after salmon, in defiance of landlord laws that 
 put an embargo upon what God and nature intended for toil- 
 ing man. The beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and 
 the fishes of the sea were registered by English laws for the 
 benefit of a few petty tyrants, while the glorious sons of labor 
 were denied everything that improved and elevated their men- 
 tal and physical condition. The dance and wake were attend- 
 ed to in proper form, while fights, foot-races and all feats of 
 strength never missed the presence of my father, who bore off 
 laurels in many hard contested struggles for village honors. 
 Thus the days and months went by until the 4th of July, 1842, 
 ushered into life your humble servant. 
 
 My mother was not quite fifteen years old when I was born. 
 She had fair hair, bright blue eyes, a rounded form, and could 
 dance and sing with the gayest girls in the village. Mother 
 and father have long since passed into eternity, where I soon 
 shall join them in the realms of the majority. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SCHOOL-BOY DAYS. 
 
 In the year 1846 my father emigrated to America to seek 
 amid the wilds of a new world that peace, prosperity and equal- 
 ity denied him in the land of his birth. Soon afterwards my 
 mother, brother Thomas and myself picked up our worldly 
 goods, bid a hearty good-bye to weeping relatives and friends, 
 and embarked for the long voyage across the Atlantic to the 
 port of New York. We joined my father near Saratoga, 
 where he was engaged in the building of a railroad to White- 
 hall. Our cottage was very humble, situated on the skirt of 
 a pine wood, overlooking a wild stream that roared incessantly 
 to the sighing melody of tall trees that lined its banks. Win- 
 ter soon set in. I remember the village of Gansvoort as en- 
 veloped in a winding sheet of snow, and the country roads 
 choked with extensive contributions from the realm of Jack 
 Frost. The old forked stumps that fenced the highways reared 
 their blackened arms above the snow, and impressed the be- 
 holder with a sense of loneliness. My young heart shuddered 
 at the forbidding scene, and longed for the spring-time, when 
 I was promised initiation into the village school. The King 
 of the North at last released his cold grasp upon Dame Nature. 
 The sleigh-bells ceased jingling, the ice in the river broke into 
 fragments, the snow on the hills melted in the sunshine, the 
 tall trees shook off their frozen jackets, the snowbirds flew 
 away to the land of frost, the bluebirds came tuning up the 
 orchestra of love, fluttering in the highways, and building their 
 nests in secret spots of the forest ; the green grass, forget-me- 
 nots, violets and trailing arbutus peeped out, and seeing that 
 
 19 
 
20 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Jack Frost had departed, nodded their beautiful heads in lov- 
 ing unity, and with perfumed breath called in the delights of 
 genial Spring. 
 
 In the spring of 1850 my parents moved from New York to 
 Kentucky. We settled for a short time in Maysville, on the 
 Ohio River, sixty miles north of Cincinnati, where my uncle 
 presided as priest over the Catholic church. We moved to 
 Mayslick in a few months, where my father had charge of the 
 repairs of the Lexington pike. I went to school in the town, 
 and afterwards in the country. 
 
 We went to Wheeling, Virginia, in the year 1851. I again 
 entered school, where professors and rude boys led me a mis- 
 erable life. In the basement of the old Catholic cathedral I 
 learned the rudiments of education. Lindley Murray and his 
 rules I could repeat as fast as rain pattering on a roof, but I am 
 conscious even to this day that nouns, verbs, adverbs and con- 
 junctions were simply a string of words to be remembered. 
 
 I remained about two years at the cathedral school. It was 
 the purpose of some of my friends to fit me for the priesthood, 
 and to this end I was initiated into the good graces of the rul- 
 ing spirits of the church. Professor Park took a particular 
 fancy to me, as did Fathers Brazell and Durnin. I was also 
 made known to good old Bishop Whalan, who honored me 
 with his friendship. 
 
 Late in the year 1854 my parents moved from Wheeling to 
 Moundsville, twelve miles below, where the Baltimore & Ohio 
 Railroad first touched the beautiful Ohio. The village is situ- 
 ated in a triangular valley, backed by high rolling hills, dotted 
 with rare Indian mounds, and watered on the south-east by a 
 trout stream, where bones from Indian graves protrude from 
 the banks of the crooked stream. One of the largest mounds 
 in America can be seen in this town, where gnarled oaks of 
 centuries have grown and now bedeck the mausoleum of some 
 buried tribe that lived, perhaps, before the American Indian 
 crossed from Asia to this continent. Who were the mound- 
 builders? Where did they come from, and why is there no 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 21 
 
 written record to tell the story of their rise and fall ? These 
 questions are easily asked, but not to be truthfully answered by 
 men of to-day. We find household implements and agricul- 
 tural machines buried in the same mounds that hide moulder- 
 ing bones, and stone, iron and golden instruments fashioned 
 into beautiful and useful shapes, but no history of the brain 
 that invented or the hand that manufactured them. 
 
 I re-entered school in the old brick seminary under the 
 shadow of the great mound. Mr. Chattuck was the principal, 
 and had taught in the town for more than thirty years. Many 
 of the prominent citizens had been his pupils, and he was 
 respected and loved by all. 
 
 I continued in school at Moundsville until vacation, but in 
 the fall, from some unknown freak, left home to seek my for- 
 tune and see the world. For more than a year I became a wan- 
 dering waif, working in hotels, stores and printing offices, and 
 going from steamboat to steamboat in various capacities. On 
 first leaving home I boarded the magnificent steamer, City of 
 Wheeling, on one of her regular trips to Cincinnati, with but 
 three dollars in my pocket. The pilot took me under his care, 
 and promised if I remained with him to make a young boy 
 into a first-class pilot. 
 
 Night after night I turned into my bunk tired, and often 
 heartsick and lonely, thinking of home and absent friends. 
 How I shivered those dark, cold, windy mornings, rushing 
 along over the hurricane deck or crouched in the pilot-house ! 
 The strokes of the great paddle-wheels and the hoarse sigh of 
 the tall escape-pipes echoing among the silent hills sent a 
 thrill of mournful music through every fiber of my frame, and 
 even now awakens memories of the long ago. One morning, 
 standing on the stern of the boat, with none in view save the 
 form of the pilot seen through the thick shadows of early 
 dawn, I looked fondly upon the ghostlike waves that rolled in 
 the track of the steamer, and almost longed to bury my sad 
 soul in the troubled waters. I had about determined to 
 commit suicide and blot out forever my troubles. Some kind 
 
22 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 voice lured me back to reason, when sunbeams flashed across 
 the river, the feeling of despondency was gone, and I ran into 
 the pilot-house to hold down the wheel while the pilot drank 
 a cup of black coffee. 
 
 We arrived in due time at Cincinnati, where the boat lay 
 two days discharging and receiving freight and passengers. 
 
 The night before the boat started up the river, George Pep- 
 per and myself went to Wood's museum, where I saw all kinds 
 of curious things and heard some unearthly sounds. After the 
 performance, in going to the boat, I became separated from 
 the pilot, and wandered for some time about the silent city. 
 Under the shadow of the Spencer House I paused to rest and 
 think. The hour was midnight ; fitful gusts of wind swept 
 over the stony streets, and made wierd sounds around the gas 
 lamps, the lights of which rose and fell like tapers in a sick- 
 room. The sound of distant footfalls broke upon my ears, 
 and then was hushed into silence. The policeman's club sent 
 its startling echoes down the deserted streets to some fellow 
 watcher. The clock in the tower struck twelve, and the re- 
 sounding tones echoed among the walnut hills and over the 
 placid river like an invitation to prayer when the host bells 
 sound in grand cathedral aisles. The city slumbered in repose; 
 love, beauty and confidence were pillowed in the soft embrace 
 of sleep, and dreaming perchance of yon blue realm where 
 hope leads on to eternal life. The good, true and wise rested 
 from the labors of the day, while the bad, false and poor wan- 
 dered over the earth like uneasy spirits wafted by every breeze 
 that filled the night with solemn cadence, knowing not where 
 to lay their weary heads or quiet their troubled hearts. 
 
 In this solemn hour I beheld a poor female waif approach 
 from a line of empty store boxes that skirted the pavement, 
 while a lean, hungry dog followed at her heels perhaps the 
 only friend she had on earth. In her arms she held an infant, 
 and in her eye glistened the tear of pain and sorrow. Her 
 look was pitiful and innocent, her flowing hair straggling in 
 wild confusion down her ragged shoulders, and tossed about 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 23 
 
 by the chilly night wind. She could not have been more than 
 sixteen years old, yet the melancholy lines that marked her 
 sweet face gave her the appearance of twenty. The babe cried 
 from cold and hunger, and the youthful mother begged me for 
 assistance. I emptied my pockets of all they contained 
 thirty-five cents took off my coat and threw it over the shiv- 
 ering mother and child. I then found my way to the boat, 
 for the night was crisp and cool, found my bunk in the Texas, 
 and pondered painfully upon the vicissitudes and misfortunes 
 of this unjust world. That whole night I lay awake thinking 
 of the poor child of poverty and disgrace, who wandered an 
 outcast in the streets of a rich city while her betrayer slept 
 in silken couches, drank champagne, and laughed the hours 
 away in company with beautiful belles who rivalled each other 
 for his hand. Ah, girls, beware lest the fate of the poor waif 
 be yours ! Libertinism has no line to mark its bounds, no 
 standard to measure its audacity, and no law to limit its terri- 
 rible consequences; but is ever seeking, plotting and betraying 
 the holiest sanctuaries of affection. Avoid it as an asp that 
 stings and kills ! Like the Upas tree, the crime of the gay, 
 luxurious villian blights everything it touches, leaving nothing 
 but ruin in his blistering track. The spruce, smiling fraud 
 who kneels at your feet is the viper that stings when your inno- 
 cent love warms him into confidence, and while pleading at 
 the altar of love, he is plotting for the violation of chastity. 
 The strong battlements of your womanhood are despoiled and 
 desecrated when the angel of love sleeps on guard. You 
 awaken like one out of some terrible dream, gazing about in 
 wild frenzy for the form of your honorable (?) lover, and find 
 he has vanished forever, leaving a broken heart and ruined 
 character, dashed down like some stately structure in a storm. 
 For more than a year I was employed as a pilot, going up 
 and down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers ; and in the solemn 
 midnight hour, when all were wrapped in slumber when the 
 stars sparkled in the river, the harvest moon made a pathway 
 on the water, and the hills answered back the laboring voice 
 
24 'A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 of the roaring steamer my poetic heart would drink in the 
 romantic scene and soar into illimitable realms of fancy. The 
 good, the beautiful and true always found a lodgment in my 
 heart, and even when the world pursued me with the howl of 
 bloodhounds I could smile and forgive the sordid crowd who 
 follow in the wake of any success, or pounce like hungry 
 wolves upon the prostrate form of some devoted victim. I 
 pity the ignorant, unthinking rabble, and regard their efforts 
 to torture with contempt, knowing that the wrong of yesterday 
 may be the right of to-day; and when oblivion shall have 
 swallowed up the common herd, I may live in some good word 
 spoken in life. 
 
 One night on my way up the Ohio river, while meditating 
 in the pilot-house, I determined to leave the life of a river 
 rover and plunge into the interior of Kentucky, for the pur- 
 pose of continuing my education. I told the pilot my inten- 
 tion, and asked him to let me off and allow me to draw the 
 few dollars due. Arriving at Maysville, I stepped ashore with 
 twenty dollars in my pocket, and proceeded out on the Flem- 
 ingsburg pike, in the spring of 1856, to seek my fortune afoot 
 and alone in the midst of strangers. I had an uncle living in 
 Montgomery county, near Mt. Sterling, and it was my inten- 
 tion to work my way in that direction. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 SCHOOL IN MONTGOMERY COUNTY. 
 
 I remained awhile in Flemingsburg, Tilton and Owingsville, 
 working in stores and on farms, traveling the pike occasionally 
 from Maysville to Mount Sterling with Dick Wood and his 
 brother, who hauled merchandise in the old ''prairie schoon- 
 ers ' ' that rattled away behind six-horse teams. The wagons 
 had regular stopping places for the night, where the landlord 
 of the wayside inn and his guests made merry until the moon 
 went down. Sometimes a band of serenading darkies would 
 lend their sweet voices to the midnight revel, winding up with 
 "juber," or a rattling "hoe-down," to punctuate the party. 
 Early in the morning, Wood, the captain of the creaking 
 schooner, and myself took breakfast, paid the bill of Boniface, 
 and drove out into the broad pike heading for the hills of 
 Montgomery. Seated on the stout saddle-horse, I imagined 
 myself once more at the steamboat wheel. The long check- 
 rein whacked up the leader, and sent the whole team on a 
 brisk trot down the winding grade to the music of a black- 
 snake whip, its sharp notes resounding among the hills and 
 vales of the "blue-grass land." Those happy, harmless days 
 are gone forever, and with them the lumbering old wagons, 
 stages and drivers, who were very important in their time 
 the mercantile community depending on the promptness and 
 honesty of these common carriers. The white canvas tops 
 of the wagons and the swinging form of the high-topped stages 
 have been puffed out of existence by the snort of the iron 
 horse, and these useful vehicles of long ago have gone to the 
 grave with the old fogy who put a stone in his meal-sack to 
 balance his grist of corn. 
 
 25 
 
26 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 My uncle was surprised to see me at his door in search of 
 friends and education. Near the turbid waters of Slate and 
 the chalybeate spring on Spencer Creek an old log school- 
 house stood on a hill-top surrounded by forest trees. Opening 
 vistas showed cleared corn-fields, where bleached bodies of 
 dead trees reared their toppling heads and ghostly arms. The 
 old school-house may have long since gone to decay, and 
 the new generation that climbs the hill over the rugged coun- 
 try road may give no thought to the wayside hall of learning, 
 or call up memories of the old play -ground ; yet in the inmost 
 precincts of my heart I still retain the image of many boys 
 and girls who shared with me their hopes, homes and affection. 
 
 " Some are in the churchyard laid, 
 Some sleep beneath the sea." 
 
 My teacher at this school was ''Doc." Orear, a sensible 
 country gentleman, whose parents owned a neighboring farm. 
 I see the old mill near the school even now, tottering on the 
 brink of the creek like a drunken man at a banquet. The 
 rumble and roar of the rusty wheels, the mill-race, the dash 
 of the water over the dam, the shriek of the kingfisher, hawk 
 and carrion crow all come back to me now like the tones 
 of vanished music; and as memory lifts the curtain, I see the 
 players and actors of long ago troop across the stage of life, 
 tripping away to the realm of shadows. 
 
 Have you ever been at a country mill waiting your turn for 
 the grist ? It is, to the romantic mind, a picture of fascinat- 
 ing life. There may be like yourself a score waiting their 
 turn. Some are pitching quoits in the "big road," others 
 racing horses, running and jumping on the sand, telling yarns 
 and exchanging farm gossip, while in a quiet nook under the 
 crumbling timbers you behold a party of mathematical rustics 
 playing fox and geese, checkers, mumblety-peg or jack-stones. 
 And still the old mill grinds away, 
 And surely totters to decay; 
 But the waters gone down to the plain 
 Will never come back to grind again ! 
 
A CHECKERED LlfiE. 27 
 
 The following extract from a letter to the Mt. Sterling Dem- 
 ocrat ', of April 29th, 1881, from Mexico, Mo., in response to 
 some reminiscences of mine, will show that "Doc." Orear 
 still cherishes the memory of his old pupil through the varnish 
 of twenty-six years : 
 
 "I distinctly remember young Joyce a bright, precocious 
 lad with black hair and sparkling eyes with what alacrity he 
 came forward to recitations ; his prompt and ready answers ; 
 and another lovely trait, beautiful in a pupil and highly appre- 
 ciated by the teacher his perfect politeness of feeling and 
 action on all occasions ; and then his readiness at declamation 
 and composition. 
 
 " I take pride that I had for a short time the training of so 
 bright and naturally so good a mind ; and, what is strange, the 
 the lady I afterwards married was also his teacher at the acad- 
 emy in the Gatewood district. Dear old pupil ! May your 
 aspirations and hopes, with mine, be anchored close to the 
 throne of the Great Eternal in the heavens, where in time we 
 may strike hands on the other shore. Hoping to hear again 
 from that ready pen, I subscribe myself his 'teacher of the 
 old log school house.' " 
 
 Leaving the country school, I attended the Highland Acad- 
 amy at Mt. Sterling, presided over by a benevolent gentleman 
 named James B. Crane. Ihad my school trials and triumphs, 
 and looking back over my career with a retrospective 
 glance, I see again the boys and girls. Dave Chenault, Tom 
 Hoffman, Howard Barnes, Billy Barnes, Bob Bean, Bill 
 Thompson, Bill Hanley, Luther Wilson, Jim Anderson, 
 George Everet, Joe Wilkerson, Marion Peters, Tom Metcalf, 
 Jim Carter, Tom Grubbs, Wes. Chenault, Davis Reed, Tom 
 Wilson, Joe Jordan, John Tucker, Henry Jones, Jim Gate- 
 wood, Colie Apperson, Jim Spradling, Joe Cool, Landon. 
 Chiles and Jim Lee, if alive, may call to mind my first trial 
 for kissing the girls. It was very ludicrous and funny. I had 
 only been in the seminary three days when the girls found out 
 I could sing comic and love songs. At noon most of the 
 
2 8 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 scholars went home to dinner, but as I lived a few miles in 
 the country, I brought lunch to school, and made a silent meal 
 amid the broken benches up stairs in the general recitation 
 room. One particular day a number of girls surrounded my 
 desk and insisted that I should sing. Among the dear crea- 
 tures I remember Laura Mitchell, plump and intelligent; Mary 
 Wells, willowy and keen; Kizzie Wright, sedate and sterling; 
 Luckett Anderson, sprightly and fascinating; Hawes Owen, 
 modest and benevolent; Laura Lindsey, vivacious and loving; 
 Fannie Ragland, musical and handsome; Nettie Prewett, 
 beautiful and aristocratic; Nannie Chenault, slender and sym- 
 pathetic; Emma Gatewood, stately and kind; Mary Chiles, 
 sensible and honest; Mat. Hazelrigg, bouncing and beaming; 
 Dolly and Mary Carter, bubbling over with fun and frolic; 
 and a number of other "blue grass" beauties, whose faces and 
 fascinating smiles still linger in my memory. I sang until I 
 was tired for the knot of budding beauties, and they still in- 
 sisted, like little Oliver Twist, for "more." To add to my 
 anxiety and grief, they upset my ink-bottle on the piece of 
 bread I had partially eaten, and caused a flush of passion to 
 rise in my heart. I could stand the raid of the girls no 
 longer, and "went for them then and there." As the bevy 
 dispersed about the benches, I raced after them with impetu- 
 ous strides, kissing each one that fell into my grasp, causing a 
 general retreat among the fair daughters of Montgomery, and 
 an upheaval of indignation for my so-called audacity. School 
 was soon after "taken in," and Mr. Crane, the Principal, 
 called up to the bar of justice all who had been concerned 
 in the row. Tom Metcalf and Dave Chenault were the main 
 witnesses, giving their evidence in an unvarnished manner, 
 which was rather favorable to me in the causes that led to the 
 raid on the girls, as a retaliation for their persistency. The 
 girls begged off with tears in their eyes and humiliation in 
 every movement. After a full investigation, Mr. Crane decid- 
 ed that the girls were to blame in forcing me to sing, and in 
 destroying my books and bread, and that I was f he chief sin- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 2f) 
 
 ner who had the audacious boldness to kiss any girl without 
 the consent of her parents ! Therefore all must be punished. 
 At this announcement, the girls sobbed violently and I stood 
 like "patience on a monument smiling at grief." Mr. Crane 
 produced a hickory ruler, smiled upon me blandly and asked 
 what I had to say. I simply extended my hand, and with 
 laconic indignation exclaimed: "Pitch in!" With a stern 
 face he complied with my order, and at every stroke of the 
 ruler insisted that I should be sorry for what I had done. But 
 with that peverseness that characterized my conduct in later 
 years I was not to be moved against my sense of justice, be- 
 lieving that I did right in dispersing the beautiful girls. I 
 was finally sent to my seat, while the girls were left to their 
 tears and prayers. The teacher did not have the heart to 
 enforce his verdict, but as he had promised punishment all 
 around, appealed to me in the premises. The girls looked 
 towards my corner with anxious longing. As my punishment 
 had been administered, theirs would not add to my pleasure, 
 and I therefore said: "Let them go," which was done with 
 great satisfaction to the parties interested in my funny school 
 experience. 
 
 Perhaps many of the actors in the foregoing scenes will re- 
 call them with pleasure; and although long years cover up the 
 plane of memory, some loving heart will go back with me to 
 the old play-ground and live again amid the haunts that 
 blessed our childhood. 
 
 Ah, the friends that we make in later years cannot be com- 
 pared to the loved ones of sunny childhood, when the heart 
 was light and pure, unbiased by the glitter of the mighty dol- 
 lar ! Even this moment I am walking in my day-dreams out 
 Winchester pike, with the beautiful niece of Newton Congle- 
 ton. By-paths, through blue grass woods intervene, spring 
 birds sing sweeter than ever, scampering squirrels run up the 
 great arms of red oaks and ash trees, casting sly glances, 
 chirping and chattering a defiance, seeming to say, "Catch me 
 if you can." Wild flowers bloom in every nook, trailing 
 
3 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 vines clamber up the trees, the morning sunshine bathes the 
 woods in golden glory, and the white clouds floating on the 
 bosom of the upper blue come and go like angel messengers. 
 
 I finished school at Mt. Sterling in June, 1859. In pre- 
 paring for the examination and exhibition held at the old 
 court-house, I studied so hard, night and day, that my mental 
 and physical condition became deranged. The following 
 chapter gives the strangest and most eventful period of my 
 life the insane milestone. 
 
 O 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A DESCRIPTION OF LUNATIC FANCIES. 
 
 EASTERN KENTUCKY LUNATIC ASYLUM, 1 
 Lexington, Ky., June I2th, 1881. j 
 
 COL. JOHN A. JOYCE, Washington, D. C.: 
 
 DEAR SIR: The records of this Asylum show the follow- 
 ing, to-wit: 
 
 No. 2423, John A. Joyce, Montgomery County, Ky.; native 
 of Ireland; 18 years of age; single; occupation, farmer; 
 Catholic; habits; temperate and industrious; original disposi- 
 tion and intellect good, excellent ; cause, hereditary form ; 
 mania, hallucination, perpetual motion. Admitted June 26. 
 1860. Discharged September ist, 1860. Recovered. 
 Respectfully, 
 
 W. A. BULLOCK, M. D. 
 
 Med. Sup't E. Ky. L. A. 
 
 It is a rare thing for a recovered lunatic to write the history 
 of his own derangement. The foregoing letter, received 
 recently, is the evidence of truth and identity. Science and 
 skill in every age have struggled to master the manipulated 
 brain of the maniac, and ascertain the cure for a diseased 
 mind. The body, the tangible part of man, can be easily 
 nursed back from a dying skeleton form to robust health, but 
 the intangible, wild, spectral mind has no chains to bind its 
 rushing pinions, and no cure to quiet the crumbling fabric of 
 imagination. 
 
 The mind or soul of man is unfathomable, and no plummet 
 has ever yet been found to touch the bottom of this universal 
 ocean. A very large majority of lunatics emerge* from hered- 
 itary mouldings. The father or mother are the source of luna- 
 tic beings, and actual begetting is the fountain-head of the 
 
 31 
 
3 2 
 
 A CHECKERED LIf'E. 
 
 long train of fearful troubles that follow in the wake of the 
 insane mind. The action of a moment ushers millions of 
 human beings into " this breathing world scarce half made 
 up, and that so rude and unfashioned" that long years and 
 the lonely grave can only obliterate the terrible torture that 
 reigns forever in the memory of the maniac. 
 
 When I look over vanished years and count the milestones 
 along my rugged road of life, I approach with fear the fiery 
 pillar that lit up the glowing realms of my lost mind. I 
 should not speak now upon this phase of my checkered career 
 were it not that a sense of duty impels me to give my experi- 
 ence to the friends and relatives of lunatics, as well as to im- 
 press attendants and doctors having charge of the insane with 
 a proper sense of their responsibility. 
 
 I say it without fear of medical contradiction, that a full- 
 fledged lunatic was never cured by brutal force or unreasonable 
 restraint. All human beings have minds as varied as their 
 features, and meat for one is poison for another. 
 
 In the days of Galileo, Tasso and the Prisoner of Chillon, 
 it was considered the correct thing to put the insane in a deep 
 dungeon, chained to a stone pillar, shut out from the sunlight, 
 with no music to cheer the weary hours of day or lonely mo- 
 ments of night save the clanking of their chains or the wild 
 echoes of their melancholy moans. 
 
 "His bread was such as captives' tears 
 Have moistened many a thousand years, 
 Since man first pent his fellow men 
 Like brutes within an iron den." 
 
 Things have changed but little since those cruel ancient 
 days. In Europe, Asia, Africa and America, at this very 
 hour, thousands of poor human creatures, lost to friends and 
 memory, are languishing in madhouses and almshouses, tor- 
 tured by ignorant attendants, encased in straight-jackets, pent 
 up in padded rooms, doused in shivering baths and shower- 
 chairs, strapped to iron cots, or tortured by the lash of some 
 petty tyrant who imagines that brutal blows can subdue the 
 
A CHECKERED -LIFE. ^ 
 
 mind. Ah, friends, how very little doctors and their assist- 
 ants know about the cure for insanity ! All the medical plat- 
 itudes ever written by so-called scientific gentlemen have not 
 touched the outer edge of the insane land. It is a terra incog- 
 nita to all save those who inhabit the realm. 
 
 The leaves that tremble in the forest, the sands that glisten 
 on the sea-shore, and the stars that twinkle in the blue vault 
 of heaven, multiplied by incalculable millions, cannot com- 
 pare with the various ideas that bubble up in the mind of the 
 maniac. Every human being with a grain of common sense 
 is liable to become crazy. A fool or an idiot cannot pene- 
 trate into the sacred land of the insane. The ancients wor- 
 shiped madmen, and they were held sacred by the enlightened 
 people of antiquity. They said, let no one dare abuse what 
 God has touched with his magic wand. The brightest minds 
 that have been ushered into life were touched by the spell 
 of insanity; and I might say that every great undertaking in 
 this world has been invented, discovered or conjured up by 
 the brain of a person who had the insanity of deep, unusual 
 thought, and the unfaltering mania of desperate perseverance. 
 
 From the foregoing general principles, I shall proceed di- 
 rectly to the specific facts, as intensely and distinctly remem- 
 bered in my own case. 
 
 In the spring of 1860 a vivid flash of imagination shot 
 across my brain like zigzag lightning from a blue sky. I told 
 my father and uncle, who were then living near Mt. Sterling, 
 that I wished to take a course in bookkeeping at Duff's com- 
 mercial college in Pittsburg, and to this end induced them to 
 give me a hundred dollars to start for the "smoky city." I 
 went to Cincinnati, and thence by boat to Pittsburg. On my 
 way up the river I had the wildest and strangest feelings about 
 life and the small, creeping human things that crawled over 
 the earth. The idea of running the world and the wheels of 
 traffic by perpetual motion sprang into my mind. I felt sure 
 that the real problem of life was solved a force superior to 
 the attraction of gravitation ! Newton and his falling apple 
 
34 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 were but atoms in the great discovery of running things by 
 perpetually acting balances suspended like a see-saw plank on 
 a middle pivot throwing out living oil into the fibers of the 
 great machine, which was to run on the principle of the cir- 
 culation of the blood one continuous round of circulating 
 force and fluid, beginning at the end and ending at the begin- 
 ning ! 
 
 Even now I believe the day is near at hand when the indus- 
 trial machinery of the world will be run perpetually by elec- 
 tricity extracted from the air we breathe, and that we shall 
 navigate the upper atmosphere with greater velocity and cer- 
 tainty than has ever been attained by man on land or sea. 
 The flight of the condor, eagle or wild pigeon cannot equal 
 the height and swiftness that man, in his wisdom, will yet 
 achieve. 
 
 It was midnight when I arrived at Pittsburg. Instead of 
 remaining on the boat, I wandered out upon the levee, amid 
 piles of freight, coal and iron, that covered the banks of the 
 river. About daylight I found myself in a modest hotel not 
 far from Duff's college. After breakfast, with no sleep the 
 previous night, I saw Mr. Duff at his school. If I remember 
 rightly, he used an ear-trumpet to assist his defective hearing. 
 I entered my name on the school-roll, purchased some pre- 
 liminary books, and spent a few hours in writing up a common 
 day journal. That night, on my return to the hotel, I felt 
 my mission to be the lecture-field or theatrical boards ; and as 
 a large number of mediocre people succeeded in these voca- 
 tions, there was no reason why a man of my imagined great- 
 ness should not at once " hire a hall," " surprise the natives," 
 and scoop in a fortune in a night. 
 
 The very next day I went to a printing office, had some 
 bills struck off advertising an intellectual variety show at La- 
 fayette Hall. I even went to the trouble to have a tin box 
 made, wherein the doorkeeper might put the cash and tickets 
 received by him in the rush of the natives to hear the most 
 wonderful prodigy of the age ! That night I appeared on the 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 35 
 
 stage at Lafayette Hall, and with song, dance, poetry, oratory, 
 and flights of lunatic fancy surprised the few stragglers who 
 paid their money to see a living lunatic on the mimic stage 
 of life. 
 
 Poor King Lear, with the dead Cordelia in his arms, crying 
 for the vault of heaven to crack, was not more mad than I, 
 instructing and amusing an audience in a public hall of a great 
 city. The curtain was finally rung down, the lights turned 
 out, and the bill-poster met me at the door to receive com- 
 pensation for services rendered. I, like all great men, referred 
 the plebian to my agent, the fellow who kept the tin box and 
 its contents. To this day I have never learned the fate of the 
 bill poster or the agent. There may be some citizens in the 
 Pittsburg theatrical world who can call to mind the foregoing 
 facts, and wonder and laugh at how they were taken in by a 
 lunatic ; yet I have no doubt that often since they have been 
 the victims of men not half as honest and sincere as I was at 
 that time. 
 
 I next turned up in Wheeling, wandering about the streets, 
 and through the homes of former friends. From Wheeling I 
 went to Moundsville, thence to Marietta, Ohio. While in 
 Marietta I was taken up by some humane person, and placed 
 in the county lunatic asylum. They put me in a small room 
 with bars across the windows and strong bolts bracing the 
 door. For the first time I was depvived of liberty; and my 
 royal spirit realized the shock, and outraged nature turned 
 with a bound and smashed everything intervening between it 
 and freedom. Before being locked up, I was kind and harm- 
 less ; but the loss of liberty worked my mind into a perfect 
 frenzy, and aroused the very devil in my tortured brain. I 
 would have smashed or killed anything coming between me 
 and freedon, and well it was for the keeper that I was not al- 
 lowed access to those whom I imagined were the authors of 
 my incarceration. In fact, I was pent up in a small, hot room, 
 like a wild beast, and outraged nature revolted at the cruel 
 treatment. 
 
3 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 In some way, my father found me. His good old face and 
 soothing voice broke in upon my imprisoned spirit like a flash 
 of sunshine. A calm came over my mind, and the murky 
 clouds of despair vanished. In a short time I was dressed, out 
 in the open fields, and on the road to Kentucky. I confiden- 
 tially told my father, as we moved along, that I had discovered 
 perpetual motion; and, what was more, that I had found the 
 philosopher's stone, or the secret of turning pebbles of earth 
 into gold ! As an evidence of my wild fancy, I picked up a 
 dark pebble, scratched it with a pin, when lo ! and behold 
 it turned to yellow gold ! 
 
 Even at this day I can see the smile on the lip and the tear 
 in the eye of my dear old father, who seemingly assented to 
 my hallucination, and even flattered my vanity. It took no 
 harsh treatments-no bolts, bars or straight-jackets to hold 
 my body. I followed the directions of my father like a sport- 
 ive lamb, and every terror was banished from my heart by his 
 kind words and consoling actions. Liberty, even in my insane 
 mind, was fostered by love, and although the balance-wheel 
 of understanding flew around without a governor, the soul yet 
 lingered in its sphere, but could not control the insane im- 
 pulses of the infinitessimal fibers of the volcanic brain. 
 
 In due time, we arrived at my home near Mt. Sterling. For 
 a few days, I seemed to be recovering from the mania that 
 pursued me, and when thrown among schoolmates and friends, 
 gleams of sanity would come and go like wavelets on a sum- 
 mer sea. I wandered about town for some time ; visited the 
 old seminary the former theatre of my intellectual triumphs. 
 and mingled with my old schoolmates. It soon became 
 plain to all my friends that the lunatic asylum was the proper 
 place for one of my deranged mind. With deep sorrow and 
 mournful regrets, a jury was impanneled, an investigation took 
 place, and I was in due form pronounced non compos mentis. 
 and ordered sent to the Eastern Lunatic Asylum at Lexington . 
 The next morning I mounted the stage-box with a keeper and 
 friend, and rode over the Winchester pike, singing on the way 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 37 
 
 with a heart as light as the mist on the mountains. I imagined 
 that I had been elected to the legislature of Kentucky, and 
 was on my way to Frankfort to make laws for a lot of crazy 
 people in Montgomery county. When we arrived in Lexing- 
 ton, I was taken out to see what was pictured to me as the 
 capitol of Kentucky, where I would, of course, shine as an 
 orator and statesman of extraordinary ability. 
 
 The long red brick building, four stories high, with regular 
 rows of windows, broke full upon my view as I entered the 
 enclosure of the asylum. I immediately mounted the steps 
 leading into the front hall, and strode the long corridors like 
 a king familiar with his ancestral palace. The doctor and his 
 attendants seemed very obsequious, and took me through vari- 
 ous doors, halls and apartments, until at last I was snugly 
 placed in one of the upper wards, where an iron cot, bare 
 walls and barred windows convinced me in a momentary re- 
 turn to sanity that I was anything but a king. All the terrors 
 of my Ohio den came back like a flash. I hammered at the 
 door, yelled through the window at quiet lunatics on the lawn, 
 upset my iron cot, tore the sheets into strips and made them 
 into a rope, that I might escape imprisonment and descend to 
 the grass, flowers and sunshine that covered the fields and gar- 
 dens below. 
 
 My mind was so wild, and muscles so strong for a boy of 
 eighteen, that it took half a dozen attendants to overpower 
 and strap me down to an iron cot. In fact, I smashed things 
 fearfully and tore off every garment from my body, in an im- 
 agined desperate fight for liberty, the sweetest and dearest thing 
 on earth to the human heart, and especially to the insane mind. 
 Of course, a lot of rough and brutal attendants overpowered 
 my body, but they did not convince my mind nor quiet my 
 voice against their terrible tyranny. No ! the soul within was 
 more defiant than ever, and no physical punishment could 
 subdue the God-given mind or curb its flights. 
 
 I was finally taken out of the regular wards and put in a 
 place called Botany Bay, at the end of the lawn, where the 
 
38 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 maddest maniacs were consigned to straight-jackets, dungeons, 
 chains and the tortures of a living hell ! Wild, horrible, un- 
 earthly shrieks sounded in my ears night and day, and all the 
 imps of pandemonium martialed in a fairy battalion could not 
 have made more clangor, to my mind. All was "like sweet 
 bells jangled out of tune." I was turned into an open vault- 
 room to parade with the rest of the animals, but soon the doc- 
 tors and attendants learned that I was a royal Bengal tiger, 
 and would not herd with common beasts. I immediately put 
 to flight the biggest and wildest of the drove, and made them 
 cower before my imagined superiority. A big, burly attend- 
 ant slipped up behind me, felled me to the floor, and dragged 
 me to a dark room, where I was chained to the wall, strapped 
 to a bare iron cot, punished and rebuked for a poor distorted 
 mind that God in His wisdom endowed me with. 
 
 I, myself, was not myself; but what was left of my inde- 
 pendent self revolted at the ignorant and cruel treatment of 
 men who knew not that soul and liberty cannot be mastered, 
 curbed or confined. You may stripe and torture this frail 
 tenement of clay, but no cruel ingenuity of man has yet de- 
 vised the means to harness the immortal mind. 
 
 The blow of the attendant rankled more in my heart than 
 on my body. I determined to be even with the ignorant 
 brute, and to this end cunningly prevailed on him to alloAv me 
 more freedom in the little cellar-room, and also implored the 
 doctors, when they visited me, to grant more liberty. Dr. 
 Chipley, the superintendent of the asylum, was an intelligent, 
 though rough-looking, gray -haired man. I imagined that he 
 was an uncle of the devil, and that the patients were all his 
 children. The Doctor, although curt, was innately kind; and 
 I am convinced now that many rude acts were done by the 
 attendants that did not come to his knowledge, else the man 
 who struck me would have been dismissed at once. 
 
 Dr. Dudley was the assistant a man whose gentle words 
 and graceful action stole upon my affections like sunshine amid 
 opening flowers. I put him down as my friend, and would 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. ^ 
 
 take medicine from his hands when the proffered cup from 
 attendants was considered rank poison. For weeks I was con- 
 fined in a small basement room, with an upper grated window 
 to admit light and air. My door was bolted, and food was 
 poked through an aperture, as wild beasts are fed at a circus. 
 
 All was lonely and sad until I made friends of two little 
 mice and a family of gray spiders that sought my cell for 
 safety. Part of my daily food was set apart for the mice. At 
 first they were very shy at my impulsive movements and 
 shrieking voice, and would dart into their hole in the wall 
 like a flash. But, finally, kindness begot confidence, confi- 
 dence banished fear, and in a short time they ate from my 
 hand, played on the cot, or danced around the room to a low 
 musical trill that I whistled for their amusement. The big 
 dark spiders would come out of their thick web and eat the 
 flies I caught for their meal. Sometimes they would fight for 
 their food; but like a metropolitan policeman, I came to the 
 rescue when both were exhausted, and easily captured the 
 combatants and separated them with a straw. Like a well- 
 regulated housekeeper, the wife would soon go to work weav- 
 ing a fine, brown garb around the innumerable eggs she laid, 
 while the "old man" would spin long yarns up and down 
 the wall, scampering over his growing web with the mathe- 
 matical precision of a scientific surveyor. He was perfect in 
 all his gossamer lines ; and the octagonal shapes that seeming- 
 ly grew out of his mouth and feet filled me with a nameless 
 surprise. When the mice or the spiders heard footsteps at 
 my door, they would immediately stop play or work and run 
 into their holes, seeming to know that sane man was on his 
 round of ignorance to minister to the insane. But what cared 
 1 for the cruelty of man ? 
 
 "With spiders I had friendship made, 
 
 And watched them in their sullen trade; 
 
 Had seen the mice by moonlight play. 
 
 And why should I feel less than they ? 
 
 We were all inmates of one place, 
 
 And I the monarch of each race. " 
 
40 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 I gradually gained the liberty of locomotion in my small 
 room, and the attendant that knocked me down, instead, of 
 poking my food through the hole in the door, would open it 
 wide, and pass in the victuals with a look of mingled shame and 
 fear. I was nursing my wrath to keep it warm, and cunning- 
 ly smiled upon the brute, who no doubt imagined that I had 
 forgotten his cruel treatment. There was nothing in the room 
 that I could strike him with, but with the quick device of a 
 lunatic I pulled off one of my iron heel-tap boots, and as he 
 one day approached the door without caution, I swung my 
 boot by the leg and planted the iron heel on his head. He 
 fell like a struck steer, and although he was a powerful man, 
 lay like one dead until companion attendants carried him 
 away. Of course the doctors and attendants bound me up as 
 usual, and upbraided me for nearly killing my keeper. I was 
 perfectly happy, however, in thinking that the punishment he 
 received at my hands was only a just recompense for the secret 
 knocks and blows inflicted upon my fellow lunatics. 
 
 Days and weeks wore away, and still my mind rambled in 
 the briers and flowers of imagination, The morning sun rose 
 like a ball of fire, and I followed his track across the heavens 
 until the evening shadows settled down upon the earth, and 
 night flung out her jeweled curtains to flutter in the winds 
 and brighten in the silver light of the moon. How I watched 
 that full, round, harvest moon, as it rose in the month of July, 
 1860. Luna, my beautiful midnight companion, sent her soft 
 rays through my barred window, and its glorious beams played 
 hide and seek upon the floor, or danced to the music of the 
 zephyrs as they tripped through the leaves and branches of a 
 fine old tree that shaded my lonely cell. I would talk by the 
 hour to imagined spirits, and in the rapture of- my soul spin 
 poetry faster than my spiders spun their web. I dashed into 
 flights of eloquence that would have put to blush the ravings 
 of Demosthenes, Mirabeau or Patrick Henry. 
 
 Strange to say, while I praised in poetry and lunatic elo- 
 quence the greatness of " Harry of the West," his son Theo- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 4I 
 
 dore was a chattering lunatic by my side, and cheered the 
 flights of fancy that bubbled up in my troubledbrain. Theodore 
 Clay had been an inmate of the asylum for thirty years, and 
 was considered in his youth the brightest child of the old 
 statesman. It was said that love and disappointment provoked 
 his lunacy. A beautiful Lexington girl pledged him her hand 
 and heart, but when the nuptial night came round, the groom 
 appeared in all the glow of matrimonial expectations, while 
 the fair bride had eloped with a hated rival. This blow cut 
 the highly wrought strings of intellect, and left but a poor, 
 broken instrument to tune out his mournful days in a lunatic 
 asylum. 
 
 It would take a volume to describe the different kinds of 
 lunatics and the various forms that the mind takes on in its 
 ravings. There is the chattering type, as he walks the wards 
 and taps the bars like a caged beast ; there is the moody, low- 
 browed man, sitting alone, counting over and over his finger- 
 tips or watching the flies and spiders as they buzz and weave 
 in the sunshine. There comes the General, as he strides the 
 halls, commanding large armies and fighting great battles at 
 Pharsalia and Waterloo, who imagines himself Caesar or 
 Napoleon. There is the King in all his royal glory, carrying 
 a broom for a sceptre and a torn sheet for a purple robe. In 
 the next ward can be seen his royal consort, imitating the 
 strut of Queen Victoria, straws and chicken-feathers in her 
 hair for a royal crown, and a simpering smile for the poor sub- 
 jects who gaze upon her pretended rank. Now comes the 
 confidential, wise inventor, who will tell you of the great 
 things he has done, of the millions he controls, and the in- 
 numerable ships that plough the ocean for his advantage and 
 profit. There is the self-styled Jesus Christ, who preaches 
 forgiveness and salvation, ending with a blessing and general 
 absolution from sin, and asking in return only a bit of tobacco ! 
 In fact, the very earth blossoms at his will, and the sun, moon 
 and stars give light at his command. It is only a generous 
 chanty that keeps him from shutting up this universal world 
 
42 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 and retiring into chaos. There is the beautiful, delicate girl, 
 like a withered lily, humming a low love-song to her darling, 
 who is personated by the pillow in her arms, but who may 
 never again give back the warm kisses that come and go like 
 celestial messengers. See another fair Ophelia, posturing be- 
 fore a looking-glass with comb in hand, and tangled hair, sigh- 
 ing or weeping for a lover or father snatched from her warm 
 embrace. She speaks: "They say the owl was a baker's 
 daughter Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we 
 may be. ' ' Look at the despair of the weeping mother as she 
 bends over the imaginary body of her babe, sleeping in the 
 shape of a sweet little doll on the broken rocking-chair by her 
 side, impelled backward and forward with the wail of a lost 
 spirit. Gaze on the sailor from the salt sea, swinging to the 
 right and left, heaving the anchor or hauling away hand over 
 hand the never-ending round of imaginary ropes. He strides 
 the ship like a royal Viking, and looks aloft at the whirr of 
 the tackle, sails and ropes, with all the pride of a jolly Jack 
 Tar out on the ocean blue. No blackened bars or brutal at- 
 tendants hedge in his soul or clip the power of his insane 
 pinions. Like a sea gull, or one of Mother Carey's chickens, 
 he rocks upon the crested wave of freedom, and with a pierc- 
 ing eye scans the horizon or lingers for the night winds to 
 lull him to repose in the cradle of the deep. 
 
 The occasional dance and theatrical performance in the 
 hall of a lunatic asylum are events of rare interest to the 
 student of human nature. I have attended these amusements 
 both as an insane and sane spectator, and must say that in the 
 former I felt more joy than in the latter situation. I once 
 took part in the play of the Lady of Lyons, personating the 
 enthusiastic Melnotte, pouring out a flood of wild eloquence at 
 the feet of a fair but unfortunate Pauline. There, indeed, 
 was "a palace lifting to eternal summer perfumed lights 
 stealing through the midst of alabaster lamps music from 
 sweet lutes, and murmurs of low fountains that gush forth in 
 the midst of roses. ' ' All the warm glow of lunatic fancy was 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 43 
 
 heaped in my acting, and while Booth, Montague and Mc- 
 Cullough may have rendered the role with more harmony and 
 felicity, they never could approach my earnestness, or touch 
 the lightning flashes of love that shot across my fevered brain. 
 
 For a month after my arrival at the asylum I did not sleep 
 an hour. Exhausted nature would now and then doze off 
 into a few moments of delicious delirium, and again the devil 
 of insanity would call up his myriad of royal imps and hold 
 the usual banquet in my brain. I was gradually growing 
 weaker, and the doctors saw that something must be done to 
 force sleep. Doctor Dudley came to my room one morning, 
 talked to me with the kindness of a lover, humored my hal- 
 lucination, and said that he had a nice cup of coffee for me to 
 drink. From the hands of Dudley everything was taken with 
 confidence and relished with avidity. I drank the so-called 
 coffee given by the doctor, and for the space of seventy-two 
 hours I slept in a semi-conscious state. The laudanum did 
 its perfect work ; and out of a terrible, awful dream, the pis- 
 ton-rod of lunacy flew back into the cylinder of reason, be- 
 ginning to move in its accustomed groove. My hot fever had 
 gone, the nerves had relaxed, my voice assumed its natural 
 tone, and tired nature lay like a drooping plant in the mid-day 
 sun. 
 
 I soon began to complain of the fearful noise made by 
 the insane, day and night, and craved the privilege of the 
 grounds and a place to sleep far away from the howl of the 
 maniacs. Mr. Littlefield, the genial gardener and farm super- 
 intendent, took a particular fancy to me, gave his word to the 
 doctor that I would be quiet outside the walls, and that he 
 would have me help in the garden and among the flowers. I 
 went forth from a close room to the walks, flowers and trees 
 in the beautiful grounds, and in a small brick house, occupied 
 by the gardener, I slept in confidence and peace until the first 
 of September, 1860, when I was pronounced recovered and 
 discharged from the asylum, after a stay of two months and 
 four days ! 
 
44 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Twenty-three years have passed since the terrible scenes of 
 my insanity, and yet 
 
 ' Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train, 
 Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. 
 In all my wanderings round this world of care, 
 In all my griefs, and God has given my share," 
 
 I still have hopes that life has not been in vain, and that 
 out of my trouble and insane experience may grow the sweet 
 fruits of charity and love, to strengthen and cure the poor, 
 oppressed and unfortunate lunatics who chatter, sing and 
 howl to-day in mad-house miseries. 
 
 The feelings of a lunatic are almost indescribable. In my 
 own case, ideas would spring up in my brain with the heat and 
 force of a red-hot shot, sending my body on to some desper- 
 ate action entirely beyond my power to restrain or subdue. 
 There seemed to be some whispering devil at the threshold 
 of my mind, urging me on to deeds that I knew were wrong, 
 but for my life, had not the power to prevent. I knew what I 
 was doing all the time, and felt inwardly before the act a 
 sense of moral shame at the thing to be committed, and yet 
 could not resist the impulse and seductive advice of the 
 unknown power that rushed me on to spurts of desperation. 
 
 Reason waged war against insanity, but some inexplicable, 
 unknown force propelled me into the very jaws of death, at 
 which I smiled with disgust and contempt. My supreme 
 egotism was only equaled by my indifference to life ; and 
 while having at times the outward semblance of sanity, the 
 inward fires burned like a furnace, and hurried me on to com- 
 mit any deed that chanced to pop into my shattered soul. 
 
 The rushing swoop of the eagle, the fearful whiz of a 
 north-west blizzard, or the 'bolt of lightning, are not more fatal 
 in their destination than the spirit pulsations of a lunatic 
 brain. The world whirls around like a circular saw, the 
 rivers run like molten silver, the sun burns a hole in the 
 earth, the moon is filled with crumbling mountains, the stars 
 are sparkling diamonds in some far-off ocean, and mankind 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 45 
 
 but puppets that appear for a moment and are gone forever to 
 the realm of shadows ! 
 
 Abolish forever private lunatic asylums, established in fear 
 and cupidity, conducted in fraud on human nature, festering 
 all over with the sores of financial iniquity. Wipe out the 
 county mad-houses, only kept up for the use of some local 
 doctors and petty politicians, who get their bread at the ex- 
 pense of shrieking lunatics. Let the state and the nation 
 take full charge of the insane, establishing spacious buildings 
 and extended grounds, where the most perfect freedom can be 
 given to the body, and where even the mind will not be con- 
 vinced that it is cut off from the world like an imprisoned 
 felon. Tear out the black bolts that bar the windows, paint 
 in bright, cheerful colors, let clambering vines, blooming 
 flowers, running waters and the song of birds entrance the 
 weary mind, and let the soft sunshine into the black holes and 
 damp dungeons that man has made for man. 
 
 Classification, separation and kindness, will tend to cure 
 the insane if there is but a gleam of reason to light up the 
 soul. Force will compel the body, but cannot touch the mind, 
 and the medical fraternity might as well try to dam up the 
 Amazon with green grass as to attempt the cure of the insane 
 with physical terrors. Humor and love, cleanliness, good 
 food, fresh air, and above all, freedom for the body, will make 
 the mind of the madman calm and serene, and bring him 
 back to reason, home and friends. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 KENTUCKY IN EARLY WAR-DAYS. 
 
 The election of Abraham Lincoln, in November, 1860, and 
 the firing upon Fort Sumpter, in April, 1861, sent a thrill of 
 indignation through every heart, and aroused the nation from 
 center to circumference. In Owingsville, Bath County, a 
 beautiful town on a hill-top, where I was employed as deputy 
 clerk of the circuit court, party lines began to be drawn, and 
 home guards and state guards began to drill. Every breeze 
 from South Carolina brought to our ears the tramp of resound- 
 ing battalions, and every mail was loaded down with part- 
 ing words and patriotic envelopes expressing the sentiments 
 of the writers. I remember a prominent citizen who showed 
 me an envelope he had received from South Carolina, upon 
 which was poorly printed a picture of a palmetto flag, and I 
 was solicited to join the state guard company, commanded by 
 one of my friends. Most of my intimates were preparing to 
 embark their fortunes with the Sunny South. All my social 
 surroundings conspired to drive me into rebellion against the 
 old flag. Pea Ridge, Bull Run and Wilson's Creek followed 
 in rapid succession, driving into the vortex of war all that had 
 the courage of their convictions and bravery to fight and die 
 for what each warrior deemed right. 
 
 A large portion of the people of Bath county were at first 
 inclined to stand by the armed neutrality proclamation that 
 Gov. Magofrin issued for their consideration. The radical 
 few, however, saw in the action of the state government but a 
 subterfuge to lull the people to repose until the Confederate 
 
 46 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 47 
 
 leaders could put their clamps on Kentucky and chain her to 
 the chariot wheels of Rebellion. 
 
 In the summer of 1861, a peculiar and fortunate circum- 
 stance took place in the town of Owingsville, which perhaps 
 precipitated the citizens to action. A certain photographer 
 had his gallery on the main street. Military companies were in 
 the habit of parading once a week, and a rebel flag was flung 
 from the window of the photographer, attached to a long staff. 
 A group of Union men saw the act, and somebody said the 
 flag was a rebel one. The eye of Smith Hurt flashed like a 
 torch, and remembering that he fought under the stars and 
 stripes in the Mexican War, he bluntly said : "By blood ! let's 
 tear down the infernal rag ; " and making a rush for the street, 
 we gathered a lot of stones and threw them at the obnoxious 
 flag. The very first stone thrown by Hurt, with his left hand, 
 brought down the emblem of treason, and another heaved by 
 Clarke Bascom broke the staff, the whole thing coming to the 
 ground, where it was torn to pieces by the infuriated knot of 
 daring patriots. 
 
 The photographer threatened to shoot the man who tore the 
 flag down, but as Hurt did not cringe or apologize, and talked 
 and acted defiantly to the last, there was no blood spilled. 
 The whole town was in an uproar at the occurrence, and the 
 city fathers were called out to keep the peace and smooth down 
 the ruffled feathers of the belligerents. 
 
 During the summer of 1861, a great number of picnics and 
 barbecues were held in the central counties of Kentucky, os- 
 tensibly for the purpose of social enjoyment, but in fact to 
 recruit soldiers for the Southern army and crush out the grow- 
 ing spirit of Unionism in the state. I attended some of these 
 meetings, and listened intently to the fiery oratory of Southern 
 leaders. 
 
 Gen. John C. Breckenridge had come home from Washing- 
 ton to cast his lot with the Rebellion. Col. Roger Hanson 
 was stumping the state, urging the people to stand up for the 
 South, and General John S. Williams scenting the smoke 
 
48 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 of battle had already established a recruiting camp at Pres- 
 tonsburg, in Eastern Kentucky, with Humphrey Marshall in 
 command of the district. 
 
 Squads and companies of chivalric Kentuckians were daily 
 marching through and near Owingsville, to join their com- 
 rades in the mountain camps. The home of "Cy." Boyd, 
 near the mouth of the Slate, w r as a rendezvous for Southern 
 recruits, they making his house a resting-place for food, drink 
 and shelter. Ewing, Connor, Stoner, Cluke, Everet and a 
 number of other local Southern men concluded that it was 
 getting too hot to remain longer inactive, and in the month 
 of September they cut loose from the moorings of the Union. 
 and drifted into the wild breakers of Rebellion. 
 
 Suspicion lurked in every eye, and death held high carnival 
 at every cross-road. I determined for myself that, come what 
 might, I would never desert the flag under which I had been 
 reared and protected a flag which sheltered my exiled father 
 from the heartless and cruel laws of British tyranny. 
 
 I did not believe in the doctrine of secession, and could not 
 see the justice of Southern states going outside the Union to 
 fight for their rights under a strange flag. While I believed 
 the states to be supreme in their powers regarding local laws, 
 I knew and felt that this must be a Union inseparable from the 
 dictation of any of its members; and as the whole of a thing 
 is greater than any of its parts, I was sure that the Nation had 
 the right and power to force its rebellious children into sub- 
 mission. 
 
 In September I went to Olympian Springs with Capt. Da- 
 vidson's company, and stood guard as a private many nights 
 with other raw recruits from the surrounding precincts, who 
 had there assembled to the number of five hundred, as the nu- 
 cleus of the 24th Regiment Kentucky Volunteers. Major 
 Hurt took charge of the troops, who volunteered, on their 
 own hook, to fight for the Union, and for weeks we supported 
 ourselves as best we could, standing as a wall against the surg- 
 ing waters of Secession. An isolated battalion, in a remote 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 49 
 
 part of a Southern state, standing alone for the old flag and 
 the Union ! A braver or better part was not played at Ther- 
 mopylae. The charge of the Light Brigade and the heroic 
 dash of Arnold Winkleried in making a pass for the liberty 
 of his country through the spears of the hated Austrians, were 
 not inspired by more noble daring and fortitude than the loyal 
 hearts of the 24th Kentucky, who first held the pass at Olym- 
 pian Springs. 
 
 Northern people will never know how much Southern Union 
 men suffered for their principles. It is easy enough to be brave 
 and outspoken when the cheering crowd are unanimous and 
 there is no danger of losing your life in the expression of an 
 opinion. The people of the Northern States stood by the 
 Union from self-interest. The loyal people of Maryland, Mis- 
 souri and Kentucky owned slaves in many instances, and had 
 fathers, brothers and sons who went out to fight and die for 
 Southern rights. Yet, with all these material inducements to 
 make them falter, they stood like a rock in mid-ocean against 
 the roaring breakers of rebellion. The government owes ever- 
 lasting gratitude for their fortitude and faith ; yet I fear, in 
 many instances, the obligation has not been equal to the duty 
 performed by the loyal citizens of the Border States. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE TWENTY-FOURTH KENTUCKY REGIMENT. 
 
 As a fitting introduction to this chapter, I present a letter 
 from General Sherman, expressing gratification at the proposed 
 publication* of the history of my regiment : 
 
 Washington, 1). C., June jOth, 1881. 
 Col. JOHN A. JOYCE, 
 
 Georgetown, D. C. 
 
 Dear Colonel : I have received yours of June 3Oth, and the newspaper, 
 which I have not had time to read. Am glad you are engaged on the his- 
 tory of your regiment the 24th of Kentucky and beg you will not spare 
 the Old Man ; only don't change results, so as to compel us to fight the 
 war over again. Yours truly, 
 
 W. T. SHERMAN. 
 
 The following letter from the late commanding officer of the 
 24th Kentucky gives the early history of the regiment : 
 
 Owingsville, Hath Co., Ky, \ 
 June 1 5th, 1881. ] 
 DEAR ADJUTANT: 
 
 Yours of the 4th of May duly received, and I have deferred answering 
 because of the hope that I should lie able to furnish you an account of the 
 earliest transactions of the 24th Kentucky Infantry. But, in consequence 
 of extreme nervous prostration, produced by a recent attack of fever, I am 
 at present entirely incompetent to the task, being now scarcely able to 
 write. I have, however, every confidence that should you undertake to 
 give a history of the regiment's operations during the war, you will, by rea- 
 son of your intimate connection and acquaintance with it, and your ability 
 and inclination, be able to do it ample justice. 
 
 Should my health improve, and 1 can procure the data, I will with pleas- 
 ure furnish you the information desired. Nothing is dearer to meShan the 
 
 5 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 5 ! 
 
 deeds of the gallant 24th ; and I cherish a fond recollection of the brave 
 and gallant officers and men who composed it, and feel it a great honor to 
 have been its chief commanding officer. I can say truly that I was always 
 ably seconded by my gallant Adjutant. 
 
 Though the deeds of other regiments of Kentucky deserve the highest 
 encomium, yet when we take into consideration the perilous condition of 
 this section of the state when the organization of the regiment was com- 
 menced, and the check it gave the secession movement in this isolated re- 
 gion, and its subsequent deeds during the War of the Rebellion, it is quite 
 doubtful whether any of the Kentucky regiments should take a more hon- 
 orable place in the history of that conflict. 
 
 I remember that on the 2gth day of September, 1861, three of the com- 
 panies Davidson's, (the Owingsville company), North's and Barber's 
 companies concentrated at Olympian Springs, and I was selected to take 
 command of them, and did so. We were armed partly with Lincoln mus- 
 kets, and partly with others obtained from the Military Board of Kentucky. 
 For more than a week we had only such rations as were furnished by the 
 loyal citizens, neither the State or Federal governments having during that 
 time taken charge of the troops. Or, as I can more readily express it, we 
 were acting "on our own hook." These three companies numbered about 
 two hundred men, armed as before stated. At the end of this time about 
 three hundred unarmed recruits had joined us, making five hundred men, 
 and it was this nucleus that the 2d Ohio Infantry the advance of Gen. 
 Wm. Nelson's command joined in the first part of October. 
 
 You can, therefore, readily see that but for the action of those three 
 companies, in seizing the Olympian Springs as a strategetic point, the rebel 
 recruits from north-eastern Kentucky, instead of concentrating at Prestons- 
 burg, as they did, would in all probability have concentrated at. the Olym- 
 pian Springs, near the center of the state, and that Gen. Nelson's small 
 force would have had to operate against the rebel troops at this place in- 
 stead of Prestonsburg, Ivy Mountain and Piketon ; and Col. JAS. A. GAR- 
 FIELD, of the 42d Ohio Infantry, (now our President), instead of defeating 
 Gen. Humphrey Marshall at Middle Creek, on Sunday, as the Union forces 
 did, would have had to seek him at or near the Olympian Springs. 
 
 I have always believed that the three companies seizing Olympian Springs 
 on their own responsibility at the time they did, (though in the light of sub- 
 sequent events a small matter) went far towards saving Kentucky to the 
 Union. 
 
 A day or two after the arrival of Colonel Harris, 2d Ohio Regiment, 
 L. B. Grigsby, of Winchester, arrived at Olympian Springs, with a com- 
 mission as Colonel, and took chief command of the companies and recruits 
 before mentioned, and three other companies, viz : Gary's, Hedges' and 
 
5 2 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Blue's, that were organizing from the recmits, and were armed by the state, 
 making six companies in all; and on the 8th of October, 1881, they were 
 mustered into the military service of Kentucky for one year. My rank was 
 that of Major. The state, from that time until we were mustered into the 
 military service of the United States, furnished rations and other supplies, 
 with the exception of the time we were with Gen. Nelson on his expedition 
 to Prestonsburg and Piketon. 
 
 Soon after we were mustered in, Gen. Nelson arrived at the Olympic.;) 
 Springs, and also Cols. Sill, Phyfe and Norton's regiments, of Ohio; Col. 
 T. A. Marshall, i6th Ky. Infantry; a battery of artillery twelve-pound- 
 ers; a company of regular cavalry; a fragment of Col. Leonidas Metcalf's 
 yth Ky. Cavalry; and this force included the six companies of the 24th 
 Kentucky. 
 
 Gen. Nelson assumed command, and made his comparatively bloodless 
 campaign on the Sandy, driving the rebel force, under command of Gen. 
 John S. Williams, (now senator), into Virginia. At the beginning of the 
 expedition, Gen. Nelson detailed Davidson's company of the 24th, one 
 company each from Cols. Marshall, Sill, Phyfe and Harris's regiments, 
 forming what he termed the Light Brigade, which he placed under my 
 charge, and which I commanded until the campaign ended with the affair 
 at Piketon, resulting in the rebel forces being driven into Virginia. 
 
 After the expedition started, the other five companies of the 24th, under 
 Col. Grigsby, were left at Hazel Green to guard our communications and 
 the depot of supplies at that place. 
 
 When the campaign was over, the 24th was ordered by Gen. Nelson to 
 take station again at the Olympian Springs, to complete its regimental or- 
 ganization, and guard that region of country. It remained there until De- 
 cember, 1861, when it was ordered to Lexington, Ky., and was joined by 
 Capt. Smith's company, from Montgomery; Capt. Scovill's company, from 
 Laurel; Capt. Hall's company, from Powell, and Capt. Potter's company, 
 from Knox making the regiment complete, with ten companies about a 
 thousand men, rank and file. 
 
 The regiment then elected regimental officers, resulting in the choice of 
 Grigsby as Colonel, myself Lieut-Colonel, and Smith, Major. James Turner 
 was made Adjutant, David Trumbo Quartermaster, and James Sympson, 
 Surgeon of the regiment. 
 
 On the 3ist day of December, 1861, the 24th regiment was mustered 
 into the military service of the U. S. by Capt. Bankhead, for the term of 
 three years, or during the war. 
 
 You were with us at that time, and are loo familiar with the history of 
 the regiment to need any suggestions from me up to the 27th of June, 1864, 
 when you were so severely wounded at the desperate charge on Kenesaw 
 Mountain. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 53 
 
 I will only add that the regiment participated in the battles around At- 
 lanta, resulting in its fall, and also that, under my direction, it performed 
 that perilous task of burning and destroying the rebel pontoon timber 
 bridge on the Augusta road, under the siege-guns of Atlanta. 
 
 When Gen. Sherman made his movement to capture the Macon road, 
 on the 1st of September, 1864, a movement that forced Gen. Hood to 
 evacuate Atlanta I was in command of the leading regiment, the 24th 
 Ky., of Gen. J. D. Cox's division, with skirmishers deployed under com- 
 mand of Lieut.-Col. Lafayette North; and these were the first Federal 
 troops that struck the Macon road near Rough and Ready, and came near 
 capturing a train of cars. We instantly cut the telegraph wires, thus sever- 
 ing coiick communication between Hood at Atlanta, and Hardee's corps 
 at Jonesboro. This was the evening before the battle of Jonesboro, in 
 which Hardee was defeated, and Hood \vas compelled to evacuate Atlanta. 
 
 After the fall of Atlanta, the 24th regiment's term of service having ex- 
 pired, it was sent to Covington, where it was mustered out on the 3ist day 
 of January, 1865, having served the State and Nation three years, four 
 
 months and two days. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 J. S. HURT. 
 
 The following were the various company officers of the 24th 
 Kentucky, from its organization to its close. There were sev- 
 eral promotions among these officers to higher grades, but 
 some of them were not mustered into the United States service. 
 
 Company A. 
 Hector H. Scoville, . . . Captain. 
 
 Wiley Jones, 1st Lieut. 
 
 Wm. B. Johnson, .... " 
 Daniel O. Morin, . . . 2d Lieut. 
 George W. Freeman, . . " 
 
 Company B. 
 
 James Carey, Captain. 
 
 Washington J. Mclntyre, 1st Lieut. 
 
 John Henry, 2d Lieut. 
 
 Daniel F. Winchester, . . " 
 
 Co in pa nv C. 
 
 Green V. Hall, Captain. 
 
 Joseph L. Judy, ... 1st Lieut. 
 
 John Kinney, ' 
 
 Thomas J. Bush, .... " 
 Stephen G. Lewis, ... " 
 James McChristy, ... id Lieut. 
 
 Company F. 
 James A. Hawkins, . . . Captain. 
 
 James Blue, " 
 
 Thomas J. Bush, .... " 
 John N. Mclntyre, ... " 
 Wm. H. Norris, . . . 1st Lieut. 
 Thomas N. Likes ... " 
 Cornelius E. Mastin, . . " 
 Dillon White, .... 2d Lieut. 
 
 Company G. 
 
 Peter T. Hedges, .... Captain. 
 John J. Sewell, .... 1st Lieut. 
 John C. Padgett, . . . 2d Lieut. 
 
 Company II. 
 
 Edmund Jones, .... Captain. 
 Robert G. Potter, .... " 
 Reuben Langford .... " 
 James II. Wilson, . . . 1st Lieut. 
 Richard L. Ewell, . . 2cl Lieut. 
 
54 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Company D. Company /. 
 
 George R. Barber, . . . Captain. Roy D. Davidson, . . . CapUrin. 
 Mathias T. S. Lee, . . 1st Lieut. Fountain Good paster. . . " 
 Lander Barber, . . . . 2d Lieut. Wm G. Howard, . . . ist Lieut. 
 
 Company E. John A. Joyce, " 
 
 Lafayette North, .... Captain. Daniel Wilson, . . . . 2d Lieut. 
 John M. Gill, .... 1st Lieut. Julius C. Miller, .... 
 Wilkins Warner, . . . 2d Lieut. Benjamin P. Desilve, . . " 
 Jessee P. Nelson, .... " 
 
 Company A'. 
 
 John J. Evans, Captain. 
 
 James M. Anderson, . . " 
 
 James Caughlin, ... ist Lieut. 
 
 T. D. Moss, 2d Lieut. 
 
 David G. Howell, . 
 
 The number of enlisted men at the organization of the 
 regiment was 664, addition soon after by recruits 400, mak- 
 ing the total number of enlisted men 1,064. The loss by 
 battle, disease, missing, transferred and discharged, was 694, 
 leaving only 370 to be mustered out at the expiration of the 
 regiment's term of service. 
 
 I joined Company I, 24th Ky., as a private, doing guard duty 
 many a frosty night, and meditating on my future of "three 
 years or daring the war." In the lonely midnight hours, pac- 
 ing my measured beat around the old fair-grounds, I deter- 
 mined to become an officer, and give up the musket for the 
 sword, believing that I could be of more service to the Union 
 in the latter capacity than in the humble though honorable 
 station of a private soldier. 
 
 The 24th remained in Lexington some weeks, completing 
 its regimental organization, and the raw recruits went through 
 squad and company drill each day. Dress-parade was held at 
 the fair-grounds each morning, where many citizens attended. 
 It was a difficult thing to keep the men in camp. 
 
 The captain of my company, Roy D. Davidson, recognized 
 my education. The first opportunity presented, I was pro- 
 moted from the ranks to the position of orderly sergeant, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 55 
 
 becoming the practical man of the company, and the confi- 
 dential soldier of the captain. 
 
 After a few weeks' drill, and when the regiment was com- 
 pletely equipped with all the requirements necessary to the 
 prosecution of active duties in the field, we were ordered to 
 Louisville, Ky., by General D. C. Buell, the Department 
 Commander. 
 
 On the 1 2th of January, 1862, we marched through the 
 streets of Lexington, drums beating and banners flying, and 
 took the cars for Louisville, where we arrived on the following 
 day, camping at the Oaklands, near the city. The regiment 
 remained here until the ipth, when it proceeded to Bards- 
 town, Ky., where we were properly brigaded, Colonel Wm. 
 Lyttle commanding, and assigned to the division of General 
 Thomas J. Wood, a West Point graduate. We remained at 
 Camp Morton until the yth of March, when we took our line 
 of travel to the town of Lebanon. The battle of Mill Springs 
 had been fought by General Thomas about this time, and 
 many of the wounded on both sides were being cared for in 
 the hospitals of the town. The rebel General Zollicoffer, of 
 Nashville, was killed in the fight by Col. Speed S. Frey, who 
 commanded the 4th Kentucky Infantry. The body of the 
 heroic son of the South fell inside the Union lines, and was 
 forwarded to his friends in. Nashville, where he had but 
 recently departed with all the hopes that inspire valor. 
 
 The regiment marched to Springfield and New Market, 
 and countermarched to Lebanon, and thence to Mumfords- 
 ville, on to Cave City and Bowling Green, reaching camp on 
 the ist of March. 
 
 On the line of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, the 
 rebel General Hindman had torn up the track in a number of 
 places, causing Buell 's army to proceed slowly, repairing the 
 road as it moved along. Various tunnels were blown up to 
 give the forces of the enemy, stationed at Bowling Green, 
 ample time to fall back on Nashville. On the 5th of March, 
 Wood's division moved out on the pike from Bowling Green, 
 
5 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 and by easy marches arrived in Nashville on the 131!!, camp- 
 ing near the city, which had recently been evacuated by the 
 enemy. I had just received a commission as second lieuten- 
 ant, and emerged from the role of an enlisted man to the 
 exalted station of a United States officer. 
 
 The armies of Grant and Buell were making simultaneous 
 movements on the rebel forces supposed to be concentrating 
 on the Tennessee River, near Pittsburg Landing. Grant was 
 moving up the Tennessee on transports to the town of Savan- 
 nah, while Buell was marching across the plains and iron hills 
 of middle Tennessee to the same place. 
 
 The battles of Mill Springs, Fort Donelson and Fort 
 Henry had given a new impetus to the Union forces, and 
 General Halleck, from his headquarters at St. Louis, directed 
 a grand movement on the railroad communications between 
 Corinth, Meridian and Chattanooga. To secure these rail- 
 roads woulol greatly intercept communication between the 
 armies of Lee in the east, and Johnson and Beauregard in the 
 south-west, and give to the Union armies a strong hold of the 
 backbone of the South. 
 
 On the 2 pth of March my regiment moved out on the 
 Franklin pike with Wood's division, by' quick marches, to 
 Savannah, Tennessee. We passed through Spring Hill, cross- 
 ing the Duck River at Columbia, and marching on through 
 the beautiful valley, dotted with highly cultivated farms and 
 stately mansions of the slave aristocrats of Tennessee. The 
 Pillows, Polks and Jacksons had settled in this smiling valley 
 years before, and by their intelligence and wealth made it 
 blossom like the rose. Great, tall, ancestral oaks, black walnut 
 and white ash, covered the rolling hills and blooming vales, 
 and all nature wore the green garb of prosperity. The pro- 
 prietors, however, had gone to fight for their rights, leaving 
 behind their women, children and slaves, to weather the 
 storms of war as best they might. 
 
 The line of war kept winding towards the Tennessee River 
 like a huge black snake, passing Mount Pleasant and Waynes- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 57 
 
 boro, across a long sterile ridge covered with tall pines, iron 
 furnaces and charcoal pits. Swollen mountain streams and 
 muddy roads intercepted our progress, the wagons sinking to 
 the hubs, the poor mules to their knees, and the soldiers often 
 drenched to the skin with slush and rain. 
 
 On Sunday, April 6th, 1862, when thirty miles from Savan- 
 nah; we heard the long roar of heavy artillery, sounding over 
 the rugged hills of Tennessee like periodical thunder claps 
 from a distance. 
 
 Orders were passed all along the lines to quit wagons, bag- 
 gage, tents and all extra accoutrements, and with light haver- 
 sacks, sixty rounds of cartridges and our Springfield rifles, we 
 dashed off in the evening for a thirty-mile march to the ter- 
 rible battle of Shiloh. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 
 
 The roar of the wicked gun-boats, Tyler and Lexington, 
 and the rumble of field-pieces broke upon our ears like a sad 
 requium over the graves of buried heroes. Bomb, bomb, 
 thrumb, thrumb, sounded the music of our march, and through 
 that long Sunday night the incessant song of the murderous 
 gun-boats was the death-knell of many a son of the South. 
 The flood-gates of heaven seemed open that fearful night, and 
 the rain came down on the wearied trudging soldiers like 
 hail-stones. 
 
 The roads were worked into sticky slush by the artillery 
 wagons, and the weary warriors wound along amid peals of 
 thunder and flashes of lightning, looking like gnomes from 
 some infernal region. It was a hitch and a halt, a push and a 
 run, a rest and a route, until the straggling shanties of Savan- 
 nah came into view on the swollen waters of the Tennessee, 
 just as the gray of morning dissipated the black shadows of 
 night and brought another day of battle and blood. 
 
 In passing through the streets of Savannah down to the 
 transport steamer that was to take us to the battle-field, six 
 miles above, I saw for the first time wounded soldiers borne 
 on stretchers from the bloody work at the front. An hour 
 before, the proud form of the soldier had been rushing on the 
 enemy with the spirit of a lion ; but now his mangled manhood 
 lay prostrate, carried to the rear by sorrowing comrades, 
 never again, perhaps, to mingle his voice with the roar of 
 battle, sing love-songs around the nightly bivouac, or greet the 
 loved ones at home. 
 
 58 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 59 
 
 The 24th Kentucky was immediately pushed aboard the 
 transport steamer Evansville, and at once proceeded to the 
 battle-field, arriving on the scene of slaughter and demoraliza- 
 tion at noon. The 57th Indiana and 24th Kentucky were 
 immediately placed in line of battle by Col. G. D. Wagner, 
 commanding the 2ist Brigade, while the i5th and 4oth Indi- 
 ana supported the advancing column. 
 
 The battle was raging, and the enemy was making a last 
 stand on the rough hills behind a clump of water oaks and 
 thick hickory underbrush, when amid shot, shell, and deadly 
 buck and ball, Colonel Lewis B. Grigsby, the commander of 
 the 24th, made the following impromptu speech as the regi- 
 ment rushed to battle : 
 
 "Fellow-soldiers, the field of honoris before you. The foe 
 is over the hill waiting your salute. Kentucky looks to her 
 soldiers to carry the flag of the Union to victory. Remember 
 that you are sons of the heroic men who fell at the River 
 Raisin, New Orleans, and on the bloody plains of Buena 
 Vista. Stand by your colors to the last, preferring death to 
 defeat. Now at the enemy ! Forward, guide right, charge !" 
 
 The 57th Indiana had dashed off to the front by this time, 
 touching on the left of Rosseau's Brigade of Kentuckians, of 
 McCook's Division; while the 24th aligned on the left of the 
 gallant Indianians, all charging right into the retreating forces 
 of Van Dorn and Breckenridge, who moved with a sullen 
 tread from their victorious ground of the previous day. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile to the left of Shiloh church, and 
 near the Corinth road, the 24th, in one of its charges, cap- 
 tured about forty prisoners and sent them to the rear. Among 
 the prisoners were a field officer, a chaplain, and a surgeon 
 named Redwood, of an Alabama Regiment. 
 
 During the afternoon the closing battle-scenes shifted with 
 alternate success and defeat, the enemy contesting every inch 
 of ground. But the army of General Buell, commanded by 
 Nelson, McCook, Crittenden and Wood, was too much for the 
 heroic warriors of Johnston and Beauregard. About 4 o'clock 
 
60 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 the enemy was in full retreat, on the road and through the 
 interminable forests leading to Corinth. Wood's division 
 followed the retreating army about five miles out on the 
 Corinth road, and successfully repelled several cavalry dashes 
 made by General Forrest ; although in one instance the Con- 
 federate General dashed right through the 7yth Ohio Infantry 
 as if it had been but so much chaff, scattering the blue-coats 
 through the underbrush and tall timber. 
 
 The darkness of night put an end to the bloody battle ; and 
 after throwing out pickets on the various roads, Wood's divi- 
 sion marched back to the main body of the army. 
 
 The armies of Grant and Buell slept upon the battle-field 
 that soaking Monday night. No real effort was made to fol- 
 low the retreating foe. We were only too glad to rest after 
 the terrible two days of blood, and gather up the remnant of 
 our broken forces. 
 
 " Our bugles sang truce, for the night-clouds had lowered, 
 
 And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky ; 
 And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered 
 The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die." 
 
 Such a scene of havoc and desolation as the field of Shiloh 
 presented, I never witnessed in the marches and fights of after 
 years. Around the old Shiloh meeting-house could be seen 
 clumps of dead soldiers, scores of dead horses, broken artillery 
 caissons, smashed wagons, tents riddled with bullets, trees torn 
 to splinters, underbrush cut down by the murderous Minnies, 
 great giant oaks blown up by the roots, and prostrate like the 
 swollen human forms that festered below ; while a look above 
 presented the broken arms of the forest as they moved in the 
 chilling night winds against the gloomy outline of a leaden 
 sky! 
 
 The rain came down in torrents, the mud and forest slush 
 being almost knee-deep. During the night I was detailed to 
 take charge of the prisoners that we had captured in the after- 
 noon. They were collected in a group under the dripping 
 leaves and branches of a spreading oak. The night was 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 6r 
 
 chilly, the soldiers thinly clad, and the demon of hunger 
 threatened the weary warriors. In the race of Buell to the 
 battle-field, commissary and regimental wagons had been left 
 behind, and thousands of human beings were without shelter, 
 save such temporary covering as could be obtained by broken 
 branches, swamp grass, and long slabs of bark peeled from sur- 
 rounding trees. 
 
 About 12 o'clock Monday night I was taken with a con- 
 gestive chill and relieved from duty by Goodpaster, my com- 
 panion Lieutenant of Company "I." In searching for shelter 
 from the drenching rain and cutting winds, I stumbled into a 
 tent that had been riddled by bullets, and feeling about in the 
 midnight darkness, found some sleeping soldiers. In my wild 
 hunt for rest I sank down between the sleepers, pulling their 
 rough blankets over my shivering frame. Weary, cold and 
 hungry, I soon fell into a deep slumber, and on the airy wings 
 of blissful dreams was wafted away over hill, river and plain 
 to my home in Kentucky. I sat again by the fireside of those 
 I loved, and basked in the sunshine of bright eyes. How my 
 wild, delirious fancy painted happiness in the beautiful land 
 of slumber and imagination. Angel voices lulled me to re- 
 pose, rare viands and rich food haunted my hungry eyes, and 
 sweet music cheered my sinking soul. The chill and pain of 
 the midnight hour vanished away, the cold gray shadows of 
 morning brightened the dark woods, and some straggling com- 
 rade roused me from the fantastic flowers and melody of dream- 
 land. The heart would fain slumber and the chill of the body 
 beat back the sweet voices that implored me to linger in the 
 realm of fancy. 
 
 " ' Stay, stay with us; rest; thou art weary and worn;' 
 And fain was their war- broken soldier to stay; 
 
 But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, 
 And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away." 
 
 Sorrow indeed returned ; for, in rousing from sleep, I dis- 
 covered that my blanket companions were dead, having been 
 shot, no doubt, that terrible Sunday morning, when Sidney 
 
62 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Johnston and his dashing heroes rolled over the Union troops 
 like mad waves on the sea-shore. At the door of the Sibley 
 tent I saw dead soldiers scattered about like huge cord-wood 
 sticks. In each of the company streets tattered tents, 
 camp-kettles, pans, broken guns, torn blankets, empty can- 
 teens, haversacks and knapsacks, lined the bloody battle- 
 ground. The "Blue" and "Gray" rested side by side in 
 eternal sleep. Many I saw were grappled in death, and the 
 bright bayonet that did the desperate work was clenched in 
 the hand that dealt the murderous blow. 
 
 No mind can conceive or pen portray the startling horrors 
 of Shiloh. It was, for the number engaged, the bloodiest 
 battle of the war, and the very pivot of the victorious Union. 
 Had Grant, Buell and Sherman been defeated at Shiloh, the 
 Federal forces could not have been re-formed for battle south 
 of the Ohio River ; and Kentucky and Tennessee, in all human 
 probability, would have been lost to the Union. 
 
 At seven o'clock on the morning of the 6th of April, 1862, 
 the division of Gen. Sherman occupied the advanced position 
 of the Union army, his right resting on the Purdy road, near 
 Owl Creek, and his left stretching in front and beyond Shiloh 
 church on the Corinth road. 
 
 The division of Prentiss was on the left of Sherman, and 
 McClernand occupied the line in rear of Sherman, while 
 Hurlbut and Stuart were farther to the left rear, near the Ten- 
 nessee River, leaving Lew. Wallace, with his lost division, in 
 the swamps of Snake Creek. 
 
 Gen. Sherman's division stood the brunt of the first day's 
 battle, the desperate onslaught of Johnston bearing down on 
 his left, and on the right of Prentiss, with the weight of a 
 roaring flood, compelling the first line to fall back on McCler- 
 nand for support, which was given promptly. General Pren- 
 tiss and quite a large number of his division were taken pris- 
 oners in the morning, and during the subsequent fighting his 
 command was but a shattered body staggering about on the 
 bloody field. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 63 
 
 Night found the Union forces badly demoralized, their left 
 resting on the Tennessee River, having been driven from three 
 battle-lines during the day. McClernand's and Sherman's 
 divisions still occupied the ragged front of battle, while the 
 victorious Confederates feasted on the provender of the Fed- 
 eral troops. 
 
 During Sunday night, the gun-boats Tyler and Lexington 
 kept up a periodical fire on the enemy, throwing shells into 
 the ranks of the victors. Grant and Buell had a consultation 
 with their subordinates on Sunday night, wherein it was deter- 
 mined to take the offensive on Monday, and retrieve our lost 
 ground, if possible. 
 
 Lew. Wallace occupied the extreme right of the Union 
 forces, with Sherman, McClernand, Hurlbut, McCook, Wood, 
 Crittenden and Nelson extending for two miles to the left, 
 making a cordon of determined bayonets ready to pierce the 
 enemy. They moved against the Confederate forces in unex- 
 pected strength early Monday morning ; and, while varying 
 success characterized the contending armies during the second 
 day of the great battle, four o'clock in the afternoon found 
 the rebel warriors in full retreat, and the Union army com- 
 pletely victorious. 
 
 I am satisfied that the Army of the Ohio, commanded by 
 Gen. Buell, turned defeat into victory, and were it not for the 
 timely arrival of six divisions, the brave soldiers of Grant and 
 Sherman would have been driven into the Tennessee River, 
 or captured by the daring soldiers of Johnston and Beauregard. 
 
 Gen. Sherman, in his Shiloh report, says that Rousseau's 
 brigade of McCook's division advanced beautifully, deployed, 
 and entered the dreaded wood where a few moments before 
 Willich suffered defeat. He says : "I saw for the first time the 
 well-ordered and compact columns of Gen. Buell' s Kentucky 
 forces, whose soldierly movements at once gave confidence to our 
 newer and less disciplined men. 
 
 Whole Union regiments from Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Mich- 
 igan, Missouri and Kentucky, were literally used up, and it was 
 
64 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 days and weeks after the battle before some Ohio regiments 
 could be found, to form a nucleus for re-organization. 
 
 May be it has never occurred to the peaceful citizen of to- 
 day how much he is indebted to Grant, Sherman, Meade, 
 Sheridan, Thomas, McPherson, Hancock and other gallant 
 commanders, for the blessings that came with the salvation of 
 the Union and the starry flag. We think of these men, little 
 realizing that to their brain, nerve, dash and valor is largely 
 due the establishment of a Union without a slave, and a nation 
 without a peer. They will only be entirely appreciated after 
 their death, when their scurrilous detractors are rotting in un- 
 remembered graves. Their statues, in marble and bronze, will 
 decorate the parks or the National Capital, telling to genera- 
 tions yet unborn the glowing history of their heroic actions at 
 Donelson, Shiloh, Gettysburg, Winchester, Atlanta and Ap- 
 pomatox. 
 
 Our forces held the field of Shiloh, but that was all : and 
 while the enemy leisurely retreated to Corinth, the victorious 
 army showed no disposition to follow, but wallowed along like 
 a huge anaconda for seven weeks, through the swamps and 
 forests of Tishimingo county, before reaching Corinth, only 
 thirty miles away ! Gen. Halleck was preparing for a great 
 battle with his hundred thousand fresh soldiers, and when he 
 actually got ready to strike the blow against Beauregard on the 
 3oth of May, 1862, found that the heroic Confederate had 
 evacuated Corinth with his entire army, two days before, leav- 
 ing nothing to our grand parade General but long lines of 
 empty breastworks, broken camp-kettles, and a few ragged 
 prisoners ! 
 
 It was laughable to see the preparations Gen. Halleck made 
 for the great impending battle which was to come off at Cor- 
 inth. Rows of large hospital tents, to accommodate a thou- 
 sand men, were erected along the Purdy, Farmington and Cor- 
 inth roads ; nice, new cots, furnished with clean linen sheets ; 
 rose blankets ; variegated quilts, and pillows with frilled cases, 
 had been sent from the North to comfort would-be wounded 
 warriors. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 65 
 
 When long rifle-pits were dug every mile cr so through the 
 woods, the "boys" would say that they w r ere all owing to the 
 great forethought of Gen. Halleck, who not only fixed up beds 
 and shelter for the living, but provided new-made graves for 
 the dead ! The old General did everything in tip-top styL\ 
 according to his " elements of war," except fighting ! Tiri; 
 necessary element of war seemed to be a secondary considera- 
 tion with the great tactician. Yet, at that time the war was 
 young, arid the Generals had to grow to the idea that the ene- 
 my had to be conquered, not by kindness, but by killing. 
 
 The following extracts from official reports will show, in suc- 
 cessive form, the place and conduct of various regiments, brig- 
 ades and divisions of the army at Shiloh : 
 
 General D. C. Buell says : 
 
 Headquarters Army of the Ohio, "I 
 Field of Shiloh, April I5th, 1862. / 
 
 " Two brigades of Gen. Wood's division arrived just at the 
 close of the battle, but only one of them (Col. G. D. Wag- 
 ner's) in time to participate actively in the pursuit, which it 
 continued for about a mile, and until halted by my order. 
 Its skirmishers became engaged for a few minutes with the 
 skirmishers (cavalry and infantry) of the enemy's rear guard, 
 which made a momentary stand. It was also fired upon by the 
 enemy's artillery on its right flank, but without effect. It was 
 well conducted by its commander, and showed great steadi- 
 ness. ' ' 
 
 General Thomas J. Wood says : 
 
 Headquarters 6th Division, Army of the Ohio, \ 
 Battle-field near Pittsburg Landing, April loth, 1862. / 
 
 " Savannah was reached early on the morning of the yth, 
 and as soon as possible the embarkation for the battle-field 
 commenced. Wagner's brigade, (the 2ist), consisting of the 
 i5th, 4oth and 57^h Indiana, and 24th Kentucky Volunteers, 
 was first embarked. In order to hasten, by my personal super- 
 vision, the embarkation of the remainder of the troops, I re- 
 mained in Savannah till the 2oth brigade (Garfield's) embarked, 
 and ordered one of my Aides-de-camp (Capt. Leonard) to ac- 
 
66 A CHECKERED Lll-E. 
 
 company the 2i st brigade to the battle-field and report it io 
 the Commanding General. The brigade had fully debarked 
 at 12 M., and for its operations from that hour to my own ar- 
 rival at i P. M., I refer you to Col. Wagner's report, herewith 
 submitted, with the simple remark that it did good service in 
 driving the enemy from his last strong stand, and compelling 
 him, by a vigorous pursuit, to a rapid retread" 
 
 Colonel G. D. Wagner says : 
 
 Headquarters cist Lrigacle, ~) 
 
 Camp near Pittsburg Landing, April 9th, 1862. / 
 
 " I have the honor to inform you that this brigade arrived 
 upon the battle-field on Monday, April yth, in time to partic- 
 ipate in the winding up of the great battle of that date. We 
 disembarked and were immediately ordered by General Grant 
 to reinforce the left wing of the army, which was then being 
 hotly pressed by the enemy. The 5 yth Indiana Volunteers 
 were first engaged, being thrown out to the right of the brig- 
 ade, and on the left of Gen. McCook, where they did good 
 service, advancing upon the enemy under a heavy fire, with 
 the coolness of veterans, mtil the enemy were driven from the 
 field. I was ordered by Gen. Buell to take up a position on 
 the Corinth road with the remaining portion of my brigade, 
 to-wit : the 1 5th and 4oth Indiana and 24th Kentucky. We 
 advanced in line of battle, driving the enemy before us, with 
 infantry, cavalry and artillery. The cavalry were soon dis- 
 persed by a few volleys from our advanced line, with consider- 
 able loss to themselves, the infantry retreating at the same time. 
 We captured some forty prisoners, among whom was a field 
 officer, a chaplain and a surgeon ; and retook some of our men 
 who had been captured. The enemy at the same time retreat- 
 ed beyond the range of our guns. I was then ordered by 
 Gen. Buell to retain that position, which I did until your ar- 
 rival. I must be allowed to commend the coolness of both 
 officers and men of my entire command." 
 
 The following letter, written after a lapse of twenty years 
 from the battle of Shiloh, gives the opinion of a great General 
 concerning war matters, and the controversies of to-day, in- 
 dulged in by little people at the rear, who were always com- 
 plaining and talking when officers and soldiers at the front 
 were fighting and dying for the salvation of the flag : 
 
.-/ CHECKERED LIFE. 67 
 
 Headquarters Army of the United States, 1 
 Washington, D. C., May i8th, 1882. > 
 
 JOHN A. JOYCE, Esq., 
 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 Dear Sir : I beg to acknowledge rect ipt of your letter of 
 May iyth, asking me to give you in writing, for publication, a statement 
 " epigrammatically of the philosophy and bravery that impelled my division 
 to resist the bloody encounter of Johnston at Shiloh, and the desperate ma- 
 neuvres of Hood at Atlanta." 
 
 This is no easy task; and as I have hitherto in reports, publications, 
 letters and speeches given to the public my version of the facts in both 
 these cases, I prefer not to condense any further. 
 
 In war, success ends all reasonable confroversies. 
 
 At Shiloh the Union armies were eminently successful as also at Atlanta 
 and there the controversy should end. 
 
 Historians may dispute the details, and account for results; but I would 
 not ask any man to see with my eyes without having all the witnesses. 
 
 The printed proceedings of the Army of the Tennessee contain much 
 valuable testimony about both .these events, and I advise you to consult 
 them before completing your work. 
 
 I wish you all possible success in your undertaking. 
 With respect, 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 W. T. SllKRMAN. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CORINTH AND ALABAMA CAMPAIGN. 
 
 On the ist of June, 1862, General Halleck had a hundred 
 thousand soldiers in front of Corinth, ready for battle at a mo- 
 ment's warning. Beauregard had retreated to the south, leav- 
 ing the Memphis & Charleston Railroad in possession of the 
 Union forces, who commanded a great portion of the Mobile 
 & Ohio Railroad communications. 
 
 The armies of Pope, Buell and Grant, commanded by Hal- 
 leck, could have inarched at that time through the Confede- 
 racy, and whipped any army that the enemy could have assem- 
 bled. The colors of the victorious heroes of Shiloh could 
 have been planted over the tall steeples of Vicksburg or Mo- 
 bile. By cutting loose from our base of supply and subsisting 
 off the country, we could have marched and fought through 
 Mississippi, Alabama and South Carolina, unfurling our flag 
 over Charleston. 
 
 A hundred thousand men can whip in detail twice its num- 
 ber. Courage, discipline, intelligence and superior arms are 
 the pivots upon which great battles are won. Miltiades, at 
 the battle of Marathon, near Athens, more than twenty-three 
 hundred years ago, whipped a hundred thousand Persians with 
 eleven thousand valiant Greeks. The Persians lost six thousand 
 four hundred men, while the Athenian loss was only one hun- 
 dred and ninety-two. 
 
 The disparity in the losses of the contending armies is ac- 
 counted for by the superior spears, breast-plates, helmets and 
 arrows of the Greeks, combined with their great daring and 
 renowned intelligence. The Persians were only equipped with 
 
 68 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 69 
 
 wicker breast-plates and short spears, and inspired only by the 
 ignoble spirit of cupidity. 
 
 The army of the Union at Corinth was inspired with the 
 lofty idea of human liberty and the salvation of the Republic, 
 while the enemy could only boast of fighting for their local 
 rights and the liberty to hold four million human beings in 
 abject slavery. Gjd and nature denied them success ; for he 
 who attempts to enslave his fellow man is forging shackles for 
 himself. 
 
 What Halleck did not do in June, 1862, with a hundred 
 thousand men, Sherman with sixty-two thousand soldiers suc- 
 cessfully performed in November and December, 1864, two 
 years and a half afterwards. He marched to the sea, smash- 
 ing right through the Confederacy, never resting by river, 
 forest or swamp, until he planted the old flag over Savannah, 
 on the morning of December 2ist, 1864. 
 
 "Oh, proud was our army that morning, 
 That stood where the pine darkly towers, 
 
 When Sherman said : ' Boys, you are weary, 
 But to-day fair Savannah is ours.' 
 
 Then sang we a song of our Chieftain, 
 
 That echoed o'er river and lea, 
 And the stars in our banners shone brighter 
 
 When Sherman camped down by the sea." 
 
 The grand army of Halleck broke up in front of Corinth. 
 Pope, with his command, went east ; Grant and Sherman went 
 to the south-west, on the Mississippi line of action ; while 
 Buell and Thomas went north-east, towards Chattanooga and 
 the upper Tennessee. 
 
 The division of Gen. Wood marched out on the Fannington 
 road on the 2d of June, keeping along the line of the Chat- 
 tanooga Railroad. My regiment proceeded with the com- 
 mand, over bad roads and through pelting rain-storms, passing 
 through luka, a pretty mountain town, on the 4th, and on to 
 Bear River, where the railroad bridge had been previously 
 
70 A CHECKERED Lll-E. 
 
 destroyed. Lieut. -Colonel James N. Kirpatrick, of the 4oth 
 Indiana, was drowned while performing his duty in rebuilding 
 the bridge. He was a gallant officer, and his unfortunate 
 death cast a shadow of gloom over our whole brigade. 
 
 The 24th assisted in rebuilding the bridge, which was fin- 
 ished in a few days, making uninterrupted communication for 
 cars back to Corinth and forward to Tuscumbia, where an- 
 other bridge had been destroyed. My regiment was again 
 called into requisition in getting out timbers for the new struct- 
 ure. We remained about Tuscumbia from the i4th of June 
 to the 25th, when the regiment took up its line of march for 
 Decatur, on the Tennessee. 
 
 The town of Tuscumbia is situated in a delightful location, 
 the surrounding hills and lovely valleys, stretching away to 
 the distant horizon, filling the eye and heart with peace and 
 beauty. The largest spring in the United States bubbles up 
 from an abrupt hill adjacent to the town. It is wide and deep 
 enough to float a steamboat to the Tennessee, some eight miles 
 away. The water is clear and pure, being used by the citizens 
 for drinking purposes. 
 
 The march from Tuscumbia to Decatur led through peace- 
 ful valleys and fertile fields, where corn and wheat grew in 
 luxuriant profusion, nature presenting at every turn abundant 
 harvests and smiling plains, leaving war and its desolating 
 track to man and his vaulting ambition. 
 
 On the 2yth of June we crossed the Tennessee River on a 
 gun-boat, and marched east some six miles, where the division 
 camped for rest and drill, remaining about two weeks. The 
 location of the camp was all that soldiers could wish. A fine 
 old forest stretched away to the Tennessee River in primitive 
 beauty, and a large number of crystal springs bubbled up from 
 the ground, cool and refreshing as the dews of morning. 
 
 On the 4th of July a large number of Wood's division as- 
 sembled at the headquarters of Garfield's brigade, to hear its 
 eloquent commander discourse upon the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence, the Revolutionary War, and the heroic sons of 
 
.-/ CHECKERED LIFE. 71 
 
 Revolutionary sires who still battled for the perpetuity of the 
 Republic. The speech of Gen. Garfield revived memories 
 cf home and friends; and as the soldier went bark on the 
 wings of imagination to his northern fireside, a thrill of patri- 
 otic inspiration for his country and flag found continual echo 
 in the hearty cheers that greeted the orator. 
 
 The army of Gen. Buell was watching the movements of 
 the enemy under Gen. Braxton Bragg, and as that officer be- 
 gan to move into Tennessee, the Union forces broke up camp, 
 passed through Huntsville, Alabama, on the 13111 and i4th 
 of July, and on the i6th camped near Shelby ville. From 
 there the 24th passed through Wartrace, camping near by 
 for a few days, and thence to Tullahoma, marching out occa- 
 sionally to reconnoiter for the enemy or procure forage for 
 the horses and provisions for the men. 
 
 While in camp at Wartrace, on the 28th of July, I was sent 
 for and appeared at the tent of Col. Grigsby, the regimental 
 Commander. He informed me that I had been recommended 
 for Adjutant of the 24th, and ordered me to take charge of 
 the reports, books and papers, at once. This was a pleasant 
 surprise, as I had not sought or expected the distinction and 
 promotion when so many other officers of home influence 
 aspired to fill the important post. 
 
 The regiment remained at Tullahoma about two weeks, 
 when it struck tents for Manchester, thence to McMinnville 
 and Vervilla, where it drilled, foraged and performed picket 
 duty in hunting the imagined warriors of Bragg, who were 
 reported to be moving about the brush like fire-flies in the 
 Dismal Swamp. The regiment was called into line at all 
 hours of the night. Col. Wagner, the brigade Commander, 
 would dash off with his men as if the Confederacy was on the 
 eve of dissolution, and our warriors were invited to handle the 
 corpse and set a stone over the Great Defunct. It was noth- 
 ing for us to march twenty mile:; in a night, climb the heights 
 of Altamont, ford deep streams, skirmish through dense cedar 
 thickets, and be back the next morning at McMinnville. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 BRAGG' s RAID AND OTHER KENTUCKY MATTERS. 
 
 It soon became known that Bragg, with thirty thousand 
 men, had stolen a march on Buell, and was going full tilt for 
 Kentucky and the Ohio River. The Union forces picked up 
 their military accoutrements, and hurried after the Confeder- 
 ates. The army of Buell crossed at Nashville, while that of 
 Bragg passed through Lebanon, and crossed the Cumberland 
 at Gallatin. Then it was a race for Louisville and the blue- 
 grass fields of Kentucky. 
 
 At Mumfordsville there was a fight, where the marching 
 armies struck together and bounced off to the right and left, 
 like bumping steamers in a river race. Bragg evaded a gen- 
 eral engagement, and Buell seemed anxious to reach Louisville 
 and save the capital city of Kentucky from Confederate occu- 
 pation, rather than push the enemy and force him to battle. 
 
 The 24th camped near Louisville on the 251)1 of September, 
 and for nearly a week the whole army rested without following 
 Bragg into the interior of the state. On the ist of October, 
 after a reorganization of the army into corps, we marched out 
 on the Bardstown road towards Springfield and Perryville, 
 where the enemy made a desperate stand and suffered a bloody 
 defeat. 
 
 The troops of McCook and Thomas suffered considerable 
 loss in the fierce attack of Bragg. He had been compelled 
 to make a stand at Perryville, in order to gain time to e-cape 
 through the hills of Rockcastle River and the mountain passes 
 of the Cumberland. Crittenden's corps did not do much in 
 deciding the day at Per.yville, as for some reason the soldiers 
 
 72 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 73 
 
 were kept waiting on the roads and in the woods to the ex- 
 treme right. Gen. Wood's division got on the field about 
 three o'clock. My regiment wheeled into line on a ridge 
 overlooking the battle, and for a considerable time we stood 
 the cannon shot and shrieking shells of the enemy as they 
 retreated from the field. Wagner's brigade advanced in the 
 evening, but it only stumbled over the killed and wounded. 
 Night put an end to the contest. We rested on the outer line 
 of picket-posts, ready for pursuit and battle on the morning 
 of the pth of October. When we advanced, it was found that 
 Bragg had crossed Dix River, leaving his dead and wounded 
 in our hands, and was moving in full flight to the mountains 
 of south-eastern Kentucky. 
 
 Some of the most gallant soldiers of Kentucky were killed 
 in the battle of Perryville, and none fell with more heroic- 
 grandeur than General James Jackson, of Louisville. He was 
 a noble character, generous as a prince and brave as a lion. 
 His death cast a gloom over the blood-purchased victory, and 
 dimmed the luster of success. 
 
 He fell in the heat of the fight, 
 
 \Yhile charging the stubborn foe ; 
 Me died for the Flag and the Right, 
 
 In the years of the long ago. 
 
 Buell followed Bragg to Danville, Stanford, Mount Vernon, 
 and on to Rockcastle River thence to Wild Cat, London, and 
 to the ford of Cumberland River. In many places Bragg cut 
 down tall trees, throwing them across the mountain roads. 
 Our progress was thus interrupted, and as the enemy were 
 moving out of Kentucky, the Union troops were recalled from 
 the chase, and leisurely retraced their steps to Tennessee. 
 
 While the troops were moving among the Rockcastle hills, it 
 was difficult to get a square meal, as our commissary stores 
 had been left behind in the race after Bragg. The whole army 
 had been chucked into a mountain gorge, as it were a rugged 
 region where farmers were scarce, and provisions almost ex- 
 
74 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 hausted. What the enemy did not consume on the route, the 
 Union soldiers devoured in their hungry raids. 
 
 I remember one morning at Rockcastle Ford, giving a sol- 
 dier a two-dollar and a half pocket-knife for a single hard- 
 tack cracker, and then dividing it with one of my comrades. 
 The 24th returned to Mt. Vernon, Crab Orchard Springs 
 and Stanford thence to Danville, Columbia and Glasgow 
 where it camped for a time to straighten up and discipline the 
 men, who were becoming very restless at leaving Kentucky 
 again before seeing their families. 
 
 On the 29th of October, 1862, Colonel L. B. Grigsby was 
 placed in command of the 2ist Brigade, by Gen. Thomas J. 
 Wood, leaving Hurt in command of the regiment. Great 
 dissatisfaction existed among the men. A number of soldiers 
 deserted while the regiment was at Glasgow, and for some un- 
 known reason Col. Hurt was temporarily displaced by General 
 Wood, leaving the command of the 24th to Capt. Hector H. 
 Scoville, a solid mountain patriot. From Glasgow the regi- 
 ment proceeded to Scottsville and Gallatin, crossing the Cum- 
 berland River to Lebanon and Silver Springs, on the road to 
 Stone River and Nashville. 
 
 After commanding the brigade for three weeks, Col. Grigsby 
 returned to the regiment, and at once proceeded to strengthen 
 its shattered ranks. He went to Nashville and secured an order 
 from Gen. Rosecrans to proceed with his command to Ken- 
 tucky and report to the commander of that department. The 
 regiment went by rail from Nashville to Louisville, on the 27th 
 of November, and arrived at Lexington on the ist of Decem- 
 ber. Through the months of December, '62, and January, 
 '63, the 24th recruited its depleted ranks, camping a great 
 portion of the time on the high hills overlooking the Ken- 
 tucky River at Frankfort. 
 
 Gen. Gilbert, of Ohio, commanded the district of Frank- 
 fort, and regimental reports were made to him. Col. Grigsby 
 was placed in immediate command of the city post, and for a 
 time his headquarters were at the Governor's mansion. He 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 75 
 
 had married the beautiful daughter of Gov. J. F. Rol)i. 
 and an invitation was extended to the gallant Colonel to make 
 his headquarters, personally and officially, at the residence of 
 the patriotic Governor. 
 
 I acted as regimental and post Adjutant, doing double duty, 
 and put in a good portion of my time in social communion 
 with the beautiful girls that cluster about the hospitable homes 
 of Frankfort. Evening dress-parade was an occasion when 
 all the pomp of military glory presented itself to the heart and 
 eyes of buoyant boys and glorious girls. The Adjutant, with 
 his trim military cut, bright buttons, golden shoulder-straps 
 and flashing sword, presents a picture of dash and elegance to 
 the hearts of susceptible sweethearts. 
 
 About the latter part of January, 1863, many of those who 
 had been absent, with and without leave, returned to the regi- 
 ment and took their places in the ranks of honorable soldiers. 
 I dislike very much to make excuses for soldiers who desert 
 their post of duty ; but a statement in connection with the 
 men who took French leave would seem to be just, under the 
 peculiar circumstances surrounding the case in point. 
 
 In the fall of '62 and winter of '63, the proclamation of 
 President Lincoln freeing all the slaves was talked up and pro- 
 mulgated. Many of the men of my regiment were directly 
 or indirectly interested in slave property; and thus, while 
 they had arms in their hands, fighting for the integrity of the 
 Union, one scratch of the President's pen took away forever 
 their property, placing them in the same category with the 
 men who rebelled against the Government. This fact made 
 many of the people of Kentucky lukewarm in their support 
 of the Union, and was the cause of bitter abuse against North- 
 ern politicians who could be so cruel as to take, without any 
 compensation, the property of loyal men who were bleeding 
 on the field of battle for the perpetuity of the old flag. 
 
 In addition to this source of dissatisfaction, the majority of 
 my regiment were raised in north-eastern Kentucky, where 
 rebel guerrillas overran their homes in the winter of '63, while 
 
7 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 they were at the front. Houses were burned down, corn-fields 
 laid waste, fences destroyed, relatives outraged and murdered, 
 while wives and children were driven out in the woods and 
 fields, to die of exposure and starvation. These cruelties were 
 communicated by letter, day after day, to sons, brothers and 
 husbands, who were unable to succor the loved ones at home ; 
 and, as the Government did not protect the families of the 
 men who were fighting its battles, the natural love of home 
 prevailed, and under the pressure of self-preservation, a num- 
 ber of the men scattered to their homes in the mountains, left 
 some money with their families, re-established worldly matters, 
 and then returned to the ranks. If there ever was an excuse 
 for desertion, the loyal men of Kentucky whose houses were 
 destroyed and property taken, not only by the Government 
 but by the enemy could lay claim to every mitigating cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 After remaining more than a month at Frankfort, the regi- 
 ment went to Louisville on the 28th of January, with increased 
 numbers, ar.d camped on the Oaklands, awaiting orders to 
 reinforce Gen. Rosecrans on the Cumberland. Gen. Gordon 
 Granger was in command at Louisville, dispatching all avail- 
 able troops to the front. While waiting transportation by 
 boat, the men of the regiment again became demoralized at 
 the thought of leaving the state, and the camp-scenes were 
 more in keeping with the acts of a mob than that of well dis- 
 ciplined troops. Col. Hurt became disgusted, and resigned, 
 but was prevailed upon to withdraw his resignation. We re- 
 mained a week in the metropolitan city of Kentucky. 
 
CHAFFER X. 
 
 LOUISVILLE EXPERIENCES. 
 
 Many funny and curious scenes transpired about the camp, 
 and in the homes of the rushing city. I became acquainted 
 with a very beautiful Southern belle, whose family was of the 
 best blood in the state. She had two brothers in the army : 
 one with Morgan, righting for the "stars and bars," and the 
 other with Rosecrans, fighting for the "stars and stripes." 
 The father was old, and bowed down with grief at the terrible 
 scenes transpiring around him, while the mother's mild man- 
 ner sent a glow of love and peace through the household. 
 
 A social party was given at the mansion one evening, and 
 I was invited to attend. On my arrival, I found a large num- 
 ber of well-dressed guests, gray colors predominating, I being 
 the only blue-uniformed individual present. Dancing, song 
 and feasting were indulged in until midnight, when, to cap the 
 climax, Miss Ella asked the privilege of singing and playing 
 the "Bonnie Blue Flag." As the tune had been filched from 
 Yankeeland, and as I had heard "Dixie," another Yankee 
 air, played in the heat of battle and more particularly as I 
 was not fighting against women and children I interposed no 
 objection. 
 
 The beautiful young lady threw all her soul in the so-called 
 rebel air, and out in the midnight silence it sounded as if the 
 belles of Richmond were in chorus with the whole Confed- 
 eracy. Great applause greeted the performance, but the cheers 
 had not died away when a provost-marshal with a squad of 
 soldiers broke m upon the festivities, and arrested the whole 
 party for treasonable conduct. Everybody became alarmed at 
 
 77 
 
7 8 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 the predicament, the proprietor of the house seeing nothing 
 but Camp Chase or Fort Lafayette, with their ponderous jaws 
 ready to receive him. 
 
 In this emergency, I replied to the arrest and taunts of the 
 bluff captain, saying that I alone was responsible for the sing- 
 ing of the treasonable song, having requested the young lady 
 to render the air for the social pleasure of the guests. He re- 
 plied that if that was the case, I should go with him at once 
 to headquarters, where my conduct would be reported ; and 
 as I took the responsibility of the song, I should suffer what- 
 ever penalty might be inflicted by the Government. 
 
 I bade the host and hostess good night, leaving them to their 
 liberty and social cheer, thus sacrificing myself for the good 
 of other mortals. When I reached the commanding officer, 
 who had authority and common sense, I explained that it was 
 all a piece of fun and pleasantry, and a magnanimous thought 
 on my part, to gratify an enthusiastic girl who desired to sing 
 a few notes in honor of the Southern cause. The Confederacy 
 always received my blows on the field of battle, but in the 
 gloom of defeat I extended my hand and the generous words 
 of a soldier to a fallen foe. I was not in favor of a parlor 
 war, only striking those with arms in their hands. 
 
 The next day I called at the mansion and relieved the anx- 
 iety of the household by informing them that the commanding 
 officer of Louisville had released me from arrest, while the 
 superserviceable officer received no encomiums for his great 
 energy and intense loyalty in breaking into a private house to 
 disturb innocent festivities. 
 
 A few nights after this occurrence, I stumbled on one still 
 more ridiculous. Capt. Gill, Lieut. Mclntyre and myself had 
 been at the Louisville Theater, to see Maggie Mitchell in her 
 charming play of "Fanchon." Before returning to camp, 
 after the close of the performance, I proposed that we go to 
 Walker's restaurant for refreshments. This proposition was 
 readily agreed to, and without delay we repaired to the festive 
 resort and ordered a fine bird supper. The small rooms, fitted 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 79 
 
 for four persons, were well patronized that night, and the thin 
 sheeting partitions could not shut out the voices or words of 
 the respective occupants. During the supper, a friend of Mc- 
 I ityre joined him, a citizen from the "blue-grass" region 
 who got into an argument with " Mac," on the proprieties of 
 the war. 
 
 Champagne went down, and loud words quickly came up, 
 until at last ]VIcIntyre made a lunge at the friend of his youth, 
 knocked him against the panels of the small room, and down 
 with a crash went the whole side on the elaborate supper of 
 Major-General Gordon Granger and his staff officers. Excite- 
 ment ran high, and Granger's face looked like a thunder-cloud 
 that had been split up by lightning. He knew me, but did 
 not kno'.v my companions. The suppers were destroyed; Mc- 
 Intyre and the citizen were finally separated, the lights turned 
 out, and we were ordered to our camps under arrest, to report 
 at the Gait House the next morning at ten o'clock. 
 
 Granger and his officers were very jolly that night before we 
 threw down the side of the stall on their supper, and I am con- 
 vinced that our superiors were as much influenced by fumes 
 from Bacchus as we were. 
 
 It was about two o'clock when we got into the street ; and 
 while we had been peremptorily ordered to camp, three miles 
 away, and in a keen, frosty night, I proposed that as we had 
 to report to Granger at ten o'clock in the morning, we go to 
 the hotel, take a good rest and breakfast, and face the military 
 music like men, which proposition was adopted. 
 
 Promptly at the appointed hour we put in an appearance at 
 the Gait House. Granger was not yet out of bed. We told 
 his orderly our mission., and asked him to inform the General. 
 While waiting, it was agreed that I should do the talking and 
 pleading, and that "the boys" should assent to every excuse 
 I made for our conduct of the previous night. We were soon 
 admitted, and found Granger sitting up in bed with his legs 
 dangling over the side. We saluted, as became good respect- 
 ful officers, and he said: "Young men, you were drunk last 
 
8o A CHECKERED LJEE. 
 
 night. I am ashamed and astonished to see officers of the 
 army conduct themselves in such a disgraceful manner." 
 
 I replied that we never drank, and before we left home we 
 had each made a solemn pledge to our sweethearts that for the 
 period of three years, or during the war, we would not taste. 
 smell or handle ardent spirits. 
 
 Granger looked astonished, and asked Gill and Mclntyre 
 if my statement was true. They held up their hands in ear- 
 nest asseveration, and testified firmly to the truth of what I 
 had uttered. The General arose immediately from the bed, 
 proceeded to the mantel-piece, took therefrom a half-filled 
 bottle of Bourbon whiskey and glasses, and said : " Gentle- 
 men, you are the most magnificent liars it has ever been my 
 lot to behold. Your coolness and audacity deserve a reward, 
 and I shall take it as a great favor if you will condescend to 
 join me in a glass of old Bourbon." 
 
 I replied that his request was equal to an order ; and, as we 
 had sworn to obey all orders of our superior officers, the pledge 
 we gave our sweethearts must give way to the rules of war ; 
 and however reluctant we might be to violate the obligations 
 of love, we could not, with self-respect, decline to comply 
 with the promptings of patriotism and duty. 
 
 We parted with mutual respect for each other. I believe 
 that the General who takes a social glass with his staff is no 
 worse than the soldier who empties a canteen with his comrade 
 on the hot and dusty march. I shall never forget the Pick- 
 wickian look and quizzical smile of Granger on that occasion. 
 He was certainly a generous character, and had the philosophy 
 and common sense not to rebuke too severely the conduct in 
 another which characterized himself. 
 
 " The hand and heart will show the noble mind ; 
 A lellow feeling makes us wondrous kind." 
 
 On the 3d of February, 1863, the regiment embarked for 
 Nashville, on the steamer Woodside, leaving Kentucky very 
 reluctantly. Capt. Gill and myself remained behind, and 
 
A CHECKERED LI1-E. 81 
 
 followed by rail a few days later, to the City of Rocks. From 
 there we proceeded in search of the regiment down the Cum- 
 berland River, on the steamer Hazel Dell, landing at Clarks- 
 ville, and riding through the enemy's country to Bowling 
 Green, where we took the railroad for Nashville, arriving at 
 the regiment's camp on the Franklin Pike, near the suburbs 
 of the city, on the iyth of the month. 
 
 An expedition under Gen. Crook was projected to the upper 
 waters of the Cumberland, where he could watch the move- 
 ments of Bragg, and protect Kentucky from sudden invasion. 
 On the 22d day of February my regiment, with other troops, 
 moved out of camp and embarked on steamers ready to trans- 
 port us up the river. We went on the steamers Belfast and 
 Delaware, several boats being in the flotilla. Winding our 
 way slowly among the bluffy banks of the mountain river, we 
 arrived at Carthage, some fifty miles or more from Nashville. 
 The regiment disembarked on the ayth, and pitched tents on 
 a fine bluff overlooking the river. We remained about a month 
 around Carthage, foraging, skirmishing, marching and recon- 
 noitering toward the camps of the enemy. Several fights oc- 
 curred between our advanced posts and the raiding troops of 
 the Confederates, and many prisoners were taken on both sides, 
 while several soldiers were killed and wounded. 
 
 Col. Grigsby had been quietly working to procure the trans- 
 fer of the regiment to the Department of Kentucky, in order 
 that he might put forth another effort to recruit its broken 
 ranks. An order finally came from Gen. Crook, directing us 
 to report to Gen. Gilmore, at Lexington, Ky. ; and on the 
 2ist of March we embarked on the Fanny Miller, and pro- 
 ceeded down the river with light hearts, ariving at Nashville 
 the next day, where we made preparations to transfer the men 
 to the steamer Sultana, bound for Louisville. 
 
 On the 24th, the Sultana got under way, passing Clarksville, 
 Fort Donelson, and out into the beautiful Ohio, passed Smith- 
 land and Evansville, arriving in Louisville at five o'clock on 
 the morning of the 2yth. 
 
 6 
 
82 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 The ill-fated Sultana was afterwards destroyed by an explo- 
 sion on the Mississippi River, while carrying two thousand 
 soldiers, a large number of whom were burned and drowned 
 by the fearful catastrophe. The loss of life was the greatest 
 recorded in steamboating annals. 
 
 The regiment proceeded at once to Frankfort and Lexing- 
 ton, reporting to Gen. Gilmore, who ordered us to Mt. Ster- 
 ling on a raid after the enemy. We got into Mt. Sterling on 
 Sunday, the 29th, but Col. -duke, the Confederate commander, 
 had scampered away towards the mountains. We followed the 
 daring raider as far as Owingsville, killing and wounding a few 
 of his men, and taking a number of prisoners. 
 
 When the regiment marched through the streets of Owings- 
 ville and stacked arms in front of the old court-house, the 
 measure of my ambition was full. A little more than a year 
 before, I had left the town a private soldier, and now returned 
 to the haunts and scenes of my boyhood as an Adjutant. And 
 what gave poetic zest to my heart and soul, was the fact that 
 the beautiful girl I loved most stood at her father's gate as the 
 regiment marched by. 
 
 A detachment of the command pursued Cluke to Licking 
 River, where the chase was given up. Loyal citizens enter- 
 tained the regiment in fine style, feasting the boys in blue 
 Avith all the good things at command. 
 
 What a medley of contradictions war produces ! The day 
 before our arrival in Owingsville, Cluke, Stoner, Ewing, Ev- 
 eret and their men, who wore the gray, were entertained with 
 as much love and patriotism as the most gallant defender of 
 the old flag. It certainly was a cruel war, founded in slavery 
 and begun in the heat of party spirit. While fighting against 
 my schoolmates and friends, I could not but regret the deplo- 
 rable situation that made it necessary to cast aside all personal 
 considerations in the larger element of National preservation. 
 The greater always includes the less ; and, while 1 had the 
 utmost respect for the local rights of the states, I could not 
 quietly stand by and see the stars and stripes torn down from 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 83 
 
 the battlements of Fort Sumpter without lifting my arm in its 
 defense. 
 
 The regiment retraced its steps to Mt. Sterling through a 
 driving snow-storm, and on the ist of April camped in a locust 
 grove adjacent to the town. Col. Grigsby was in command 
 of all the troops in the place. For a week, drilling and scout- 
 ing parties made things lively among the hills of Montgomery. 
 
 I visited rnany old friends that I knew in school-boy days, 
 and although some of them sympathized with the Southern 
 cause, they betrayed no enmity to me, but opened their hearts 
 and homes for my reception. A number of prisoners were 
 captured and brought into camp during our rendezvous at Mt. 
 Sterling. I remember the case of Capt. Alf. Bascom, of Bath 
 county, who belonged to Cluke's command, and had been 
 captured by Lieut. Julius Miller, while on a raid on Slate 
 Creek. Bascom was very much alarmed at his prospect of be- 
 ing sent to Camp Chase, and were it not for my intercession, 
 combined with the former friendship of Col. Hurt, he would 
 certainly have gone. Clarke Bascom, his brother, was a Union 
 man, and to show our regard for his good faith in sticking to 
 the government when his relatives went into the rebellion we 
 released the Confederate captain on his parole of honor. 
 
 I took dinner one evening at the house of Mrs. Emily Barnes, 
 in company with her talented daughter Julia, and a number 
 of her loyal sons were also present. Howard Barnes was my 
 favorite among all the boys who went to school at the old 
 Highland Seminary. He was generous to a fault, manly in 
 his actions, musical and witty, and had the rare faculty of 
 making and keeping friends. " Billy," another brother, was 
 more impulsive, but true to his word, and brave under all cir- 
 cumstances. Mrs. Barnes had been my friend when I was a 
 poor boy hunting for education, and her lovely daughter often 
 taught me music. Emily Barnes was a splendid woman. Her 
 hand and heart went out to the poor and needy, and when the 
 downcast and weary were turned from the doors of the opu- 
 lent, they could always rely on her benevolence and support. 
 
84 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 The grass of many long years has grown upon her grave, and 
 the flowers of spring have come and gone with the changing 
 seasons, since last I beheld her charitable face ; yet, in the 
 choicest nooks of memory she is venerated by thousands for 
 her noble acts performed in the interests of humanity. The 
 motto of her life can be summed up in the following beautiful 
 stanza from the Universal Prayer of Pope : 
 
 " Teach me to feel another's woe, 
 
 To hide the fault I see ; 
 That mercy I to others show, 
 That mercy show to me." 
 
 On the yth of April, the regiment struck tents and moved 
 out on the pike towards Winchester ; thence marched to Rich- 
 mond, to Crab Orchard, and on to Mt. Vernon, where the 
 brigade of Gen. Gilbert was encamped. We remained here a 
 few days, and then moved up into the Wild Cat hills as an out- 
 post for the brigade, which continued to camp at Mt. Vernon. 
 
 A number of raiding parties from the Cumberland River 
 dashed about London and Barboursville, giving us a great deal 
 of trouble. Capt. Stough with a command of mounted men 
 caught up with some of these daring raiders on the 2jd of 
 April, near Williamsburg, and killed and captured quite a num- 
 ber. The 24th was ordered to his support, and by a hurried 
 march we dashed over the rolling Wild Cat hills and entered 
 the town of London early the next morning, moving out on 
 the mountain road leading to Williamsburg. We chased the 
 enemy across the Cumberland River to Seven Mills, where 
 they were lost and scattered in the mountains. The whole 
 command returned to London, where we camped and scouted 
 for about two weeks. 
 
 From this place we were ordered to fall back on the impreg- 
 nable hills of Wild Cat, overlooking the brawling waters of 
 Rockcastle River. From the 1 5th of May to the i5th of July, 
 1863, the regiment encamped on the Very topmost height of 
 the bold ridge where, in the fall of 1861, Col. Garred made 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 85 
 
 such a gallant stand against the enemy. Raiding and foraging 
 parties were continually sent out by Col. Grigsby, who reported 
 the movements of the Confederate forces to Gen. Gilbert, at 
 Mt. Vernon. 
 
 About this time, I was detailed to proceed to Somerset and 
 report for duty on a court-martial convened for the purpose of 
 trying Lieut. Lee, of the 24th, for drunkenness, and also such 
 other officers as might come before the court. I finished my 
 duty in a few days, and returned to Mt. Vernon. 
 
 The regiment broke up camp from the Wild Cat Pass on the 
 5th of July, and marched to Mt. Vernon, joining the brigade, 
 which proceeded to Crab Orchard, Stanford, Camp Nelson, 
 Camp Dick Robinson, and thence to Danville, where General 
 Burnside was massing an army of ten thousand men to pene- 
 trate into East Tennessee, capture the railroad communication 
 of the enemy, and thus wrench the backbone of the crumbling 
 rebellion. 
 
 A more perfect organization of the various regiments took 
 place at Danville. Drilling and dress-parade came off every 
 day, and a large number of ladies and gentlemen visited the 
 parade-grounds every evening and witnessed the " pomp and 
 circumstance of glorious war." I received a leave of absence 
 for five days, and went to Frankfort to engage Capt. Denny 
 Healy as the leader of our regimental band. A number of men 
 were employed and mustered in for the band, and some fine 
 silver instruments were bought in New York by the officers of 
 the regiment. Capt. Healy, the leader, was a young Irish- 
 man, who devoted his life and talents to music. He could 
 compose and play almost any kind of music, and was what 
 might be called a musical prodigy. He remained in the regi- 
 ment nearly two years, and did a great deal to inspire its dis- 
 cipline and minister to the pleasure of the command. After 
 the war he settled in Louisville, organized a city band, and 
 was very successful in his chosen profession. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 KNOXV1LLE EXPEDITION. 
 
 Before leaving for the East Tennessee expedition, Col. L. B. 
 Grigsby resigned his commission, (July i6th, 1863,) on account 
 of business and bad health. Col. J. S. Hurt then took com- 
 mand of the regiment, remaining to the close of the war. 
 
 On the i yth of August, the regiment moved to Stanford 
 and Crab Orchard, and thence to Somerset, where our brigade 
 (the 2d, commanded by Gen. Daniel Cameron, in Haskell's 
 Division,) crossed the Cumberland River on the 23d. We 
 were now fairly pointed for East Tennessee, with hot, dusty 
 days, rugged mountain roads and brawling streams before us. 
 The passage of the Cumberland, at Smith's ferry, was a very 
 difficult undertaking by the assembled army of Gen. Burnside. 
 On the south side of the rapid stream we were compelled to 
 haul up the wagons and artillery by ropes grasped in the hands 
 of a thousand men. 
 
 When all was ready, we began a weary march through an 
 unknown country that had been occupied by the enemy since 
 the beginning of hostilities. A trail of twelve days in the 
 mountains lay before us ere we could tap the railroad near 
 Knoxville, and sever Confederate communication from Rich- 
 mond to the south-west. Our wagon trains did not get up on 
 the night of the 23d until twelve o'clock, and the soldiers had 
 to camp out on the bare, rocky earth, with nothing to cover 
 them save overhanging branches. The air was chilly, and the 
 starlight shone down on the sleeping camp with a cold gleam. 
 Bright and early in the morning twilight we proceeded on the 
 
 86 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 87 
 
 rough march to Jacksburg, traveling over narrow, rocky roads 
 that almost defied the passage of wagons and mules. We be- 
 gan to ascend the spurs of the Cumberland Mountains, wind- 
 ing our way over a back-bone ridge, until we crossed the rapid 
 waters of New River. In many instances, over the mountain 
 plateau, we passed fifteen and twenty miles without a sign of 
 human, habitation. One vast wilderness stretched away to the 
 horizon, only broken by lowering clouds that settled on the 
 bosom of that upland sea of emerald beauty. 
 
 On the 29th and 3oth of August we passed over the topmost 
 peaks of the mountains, and camped some ten miles from the 
 town of Montgomery, situated near the southern base of the 
 mountain range. The sight from the tops of the Cumberland 
 Mountains was grand and inspiring. Bold, bare rocks shot 
 out against the sky like huge ships upon a raging sea. Deep, 
 dark chasms yawned in majestic horror upon the eye of the 
 traveler, and the thundering roar of some far-off falls broke 
 upon the ear like the rush of a mighty wind sweeping over a 
 primeval forest. The Cumberland looked magnificent. 
 
 " Its uplands sloping decked the mountain side, 
 Woods over woods, in gay theatric pride." 
 
 But to the romantic soul filled with unutterable admiration, 
 the gloaming, the starlight and the moonlight must intermin- 
 gle to bring out in bold relief the beauty and grandeur of 
 mountain scenery. One moonlight night I stood upon one 
 of the wildest and highest peaks of the Cumberland, the sigh- 
 ing pines singing to the stars, the crickets chirping at my feet, 
 and the sound of dashing cascades carried on the wings of the 
 night, while the "bright and burning blazonry of God" glit- 
 tered in their eternal depths, and lit up the green mountain 
 tops with a glow of celestial light. 
 
 At such a moment the soul communes with its Creator; and 
 while we may, perhaps, doubt the reason of prayers, creeds 
 and churches, the most unreasoning man cannot deny the ex- 
 istence of a God, in the vast and mysterious realm spread out 
 
88 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 before him in air, water, earth and sky ! Those majestic 
 mountain tops were not called into being and clothed with a 
 rich eternal verdure by chance. Those crystal springs and 
 flowing rivers did not rise and meander to the sea without some 
 grand design. The blue heavens above were not spread out 
 in illimitable magnificence, and dotted all over with shining 
 worlds, without a plan. No ! God lives in every breeze that 
 wafts over the earth; shines in every star that glitters in the 
 blue vault of heaven ; sings with every warbler that flutters in 
 the forest ; breathes in every fragrant flower ; and when the 
 mortals of this transient life have lived out their little span, 
 they mingle again, for some mysterious end, with the compo- 
 nent parts of earth, and sink back into some grand omnipo- 
 tence, great and eternal ! 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 The troops passed through Montgomery on the last day of 
 August, to the undulating plains of East Tennessee, the 
 " promised land" of loyalty. Montgomery at that time 
 might well be compared to the Deserted Village of Goldsmith. 
 Its inhabitants lived in rural comfort before the rebellion, sur- 
 rounded by smiling fields and productive vineyards, that deck- 
 ed the upland sunny slopes. These mountain people we r c 
 loyal to the flag, and when the tocsin of war sounded, they 
 fled to the North as refugees, in search of peace and protection 
 against the plantation "chivalry," who made it too hot for 
 Union men to live in the atmosphere of slavery and Confed- 
 erate conscription. 
 
 In going through the village, I did not see a single living 
 mortal ; but the torn roofs, broken fences, rotten doors, creak- 
 ing sign-boards, straggling hedges, tall weeds, blowing this- 
 tles, hanging cobwebs, and "swallows twittering from their 
 straw-built shed," betokened decay, desolation and death. 
 
 " Sweet, smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, 
 Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn; 
 Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, 
 And desolation saddens all thy green. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 89 
 
 Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, 
 And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall; 
 And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, 
 Far, far away thy children leave the land." 
 
 I left Montgomery, and looked back with a sigh upon the 
 straggling village, as the setting sun shone on the dilapidated 
 homes of those loyal hearts who forfeited all but truth and 
 honor in their devotion to the old flag. 
 
 For four days the army toiled over rough roads and rapid 
 streams, towards Kingston and Knoxville. Reports came in 
 that the enemy had evacuated these places, and withdrawn 
 into Georgia and Virginia. About four o'clock on the after- 
 noon of the 4th of September, my regiment struck the East 
 Tennessee Railroad at Lenoir, a small station south of Knox- 
 ville. The Holston and Little Tennessee Rivers form the 
 main arm of the Tennessee, which wanders away for more 
 than five hundred miles in its course to the sea. A thrill of 
 satisfaction and triumph pervaded the ranks of the army when 
 the shrill blast of the iron horse came echoing down the road 
 from Knoxville. We felt that our long, weary march through 
 the mountains had not been in vain, and that the "stars and 
 stripes," though often torn down and insulted, would yet wave 
 in glory and peace over a united land. 
 
 The possession of Tennessee by the Union army compelled 
 the Confederate commanders to shift their base of operations 
 farther south, and thus shorten the space that intervened be- 
 tween them and the Atlantic Ocean. I could see, even at that 
 time, that fate and fortune frowned upon the Confederacy, 
 and while many battles remained to be fought, every Union 
 soldier was confident of ultimate success. 
 
 Lingering at Lenoir for a couple of days to rest, the regi- 
 ment took up its line of march for Concord, a village fifteen 
 miles south of Knoxville, where we pitched tents in a pleasant 
 grove, and enjoyed the ease of camp life for a week, making 
 friends of the loyal people, who flocked in from the surround- 
 ing country to behold their Union deliverers. 
 
9 o A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Gen. Burnside projected an expedition towards the Virginia 
 line, in search of the enemy, who fled at his approach. March- 
 ing orders were received, and on the i5th of September, for 
 the first time, we passed through Knoxville, the capital city 
 of East Tennessee, the home of Parson Brownlow and Horace 
 Maynard, both of whom have since mingled their loyal dust 
 with that of the state they saved to the Union. 
 
 The regiment marched through the town with banners fly- 
 ing, drums beating, horns blowing, and hearts throbbing to 
 the music of freedom. We reached Strawberry Plains in due 
 time, and camped at Panther Springs ; from there proceeded 
 to Morristown, on the railroad, where Gen. Burnside came up 
 and made a cheering speech to the citizens, who assembled at 
 the depot to hear his patriotic words. The command moved 
 on to Greenville, the home of Vice President Andrew Johnson. 
 This beautiful village is situated amid a circle of rolling hills, 
 the huge forms of the Smoky Mountains looming up in the 
 distance, separating Tennessee from North Carolina. 
 
 Over these rugged mountains a few years before, crossing 
 the French Broad and the rapid Holston, wandered a poor, 
 penniless boy in search of work and fortune. He met kind 
 friends in the mountain town of Greenville, v/ho cared for his 
 immediate wants, and secured for him a place on the bench 
 of a tailor-shop, where he could master the trade and support 
 himself by honest labor. The boy was very apt, and soon in- 
 gratiated himself into the affections of all who knew him. He 
 had never gone to school, and felt the want of education. A 
 kind and loving friend, who afterwards became his wife, un- 
 dertook the task of instructing the young tradesman in the 
 rudiments of education. His advance in knowledge was rapid, 
 for God had stamped the rustic mountaineer with an extraor- 
 dinary brain, which was backed by indomitable pluck and 
 never-failing energy. He had the ambition of Alexander and 
 tenacity of General Jackson. No clouds or storms could ob- 
 scure the sunbeams of his heart, or twist him from a purpose 
 he had once formed. The people trusted him, and believed 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 9 i 
 
 in his manly honesty. From the lap-board and iron of the 
 tailor, he rose 'to the position of Alderman, Member of the 
 Legislature, Governor, Congressman, Senator, Vice President, 
 and finally, through the horrible death of our noble and be- 
 loved LINCOLN, put on the Presidential robes and became the 
 Chief Magistrate of the Republic. 
 
 I went into the small brick tailor shop where "Andy John- 
 son' ' once made trowsers for the people of Greenville ; and 
 I thought deeply on the startling changes of this mysterious 
 life. We rise and fall like bubbles on a stormy sea. The last 
 become first, and the first become last. 
 
 * 
 * 
 
 The enemy was reported in force at Center Station, near the 
 Wataga River, and early Sunday morning our command moved 
 off for Jonesboro and Johnson Station. Some slight skirmish- 
 ing occurred, three of our men being killed and wounded by 
 the cavalry of the enemy that lay in ambush near the road. 
 Near the banks of the Wataga the enemy had erected a fort. 
 Gen. Burnside came to the front in person, and a reconnoiter- 
 ing party was thrown out, when considerable firing occurred. 
 A flag of truce was sent in by the commanding General for 
 the capitulation of the place, and as there was no response to 
 it, my regiment was ordered to charge the redoubt. We went 
 towards the ridge with a yell ; but, to our chagrin, the enemy 
 had fled, leaving nothing but two dismantled cannon. We 
 followed up the retreating force towards Bristol, on the Vir- 
 ginia line, but shortly began a retrograde movement towards 
 Knoxville, abandoning all the towns and posts we had previ- 
 ously occupied. 
 
 It was said that the Confederate General Crittenden, of 
 Kentucky, and the gallant Cerro Gordo Williams were in 
 command of the troops that fled towards Virginia; but, be 
 this as it may, our expedition proved fruitless, and we finally 
 returned, to be pent up in Knoxville, besieged by Gen. Long- 
 street. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF KNOXVILLE. 
 
 On Sunday, the 27th of September, the 24th encamped on 
 our old ground at Concord, one of the outposts of Knoxville. 
 We remained at this delightful post until the 3oth of October, 
 when we were ordered to Knoxville, and encamped on the 
 south side of Holston River, on a circle of quite abrupt hills, 
 which we proceeded to fortify. The right of my regiment lay 
 on the bluff hills of the Marysville road. The prospect seemed 
 to be that we might have to remain all winter among these 
 hills; and with this end in view, orders were given to erect 
 snug log houses in company rows, leaving sufficient space be- 
 tween each cabin and company for sanitary purposes and com- 
 pany formations. 
 
 When the cabins were completed, the ten rows with their 
 uniform construction had all the appearance of regular bar- 
 racks. The field officers had hospital tents erected on the 
 apex of the hill, commanding a view of all that transpired in 
 camp, and at the same time securing a fine sight of the valley 
 looking south. 
 
 I was detailed by Gen. Hascall, the Division Commander, 
 in conjunction with Capts. Kennedy and Runkle, of the 65th 
 Illinois, to meet at headquarters and proceed as a " board of 
 survey," to condemn the various transportation material and 
 quartermaster stores submitted to us by Capt. T. W. Fry. We 
 finished our labors in a few days, condemning property to the 
 amount of over a million dollars. I wrote the report, which 
 we all signed, after which we returned to our respective regi- 
 ments. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 93 
 
 Fortifications were being rapidly thrown up on each side of 
 the Holston River, and Fort Sanders, a strong field-work on 
 the north side, was looming up into impregnable proportions. 
 Longstreet was reported at Loudon, making his way towards 
 the Tennessee, at Kingston, with an army of twenty-five thou- 
 sand men devoted to the defeat or capture of Burnside's sixteen 
 thousand isolated soldiers. The outposts of Burnside were 
 soon driven inside the earthworks that had hastily been thrown 
 up around Knoxville. Longstreet surrounded the town on the 
 1 7th of November, with a cordon of confident warriors who 
 had often known success on many hard-fought fields on the 
 Potomac. 
 
 Instead of stopping to skirmish and throw buncomb shells 
 after the boys in blue, and hesitating at a large brick house on 
 the hill-top to the south-west of the city, the Confederate 
 commander should have formed his advancing columns into the 
 shape of a wedge and hurled the mass, at all hazard, against 
 the wavering army that occupied the newly made breastworks. 
 Had he done this, the entire army of Burnside would have 
 been dispersed, captured, or killed ; and the loyal city could 
 have been left a mass of smouldering ruins and ashes. 
 
 But Long^reet let the opportune moment pass, and every 
 hour afterward his chances for success became less, while the 
 besieged troops became stronger and more confident to resist 
 until succor came from Grant and Sherman, whose daring sol- 
 diers had recently defeated and routed the veterans of Bragg 
 on the bold heights of Missionary Ridge and above the clouds 
 at Lookout Mountain. 
 
 A succession of daily skirmishes took place while the enemy 
 worked up to our breastworks, by rifle-pits, parallels and bat- 
 teries, coming at last within a hundred yards of our strongest 
 redoubts. On the south side of the river Generals Law and 
 Robertson had posted their brigades, along a bold ridge, their 
 left resting on a rocky bluff abutting on the river, while the 
 right extended towards the Marysville road, where Wheeler's 
 cavalry had driven in our mounted men. General Hascall's 
 
94 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 division confronted the Confederates, our right resting on a 
 parallel ridge. The brigade of Gen. Daniel Cameron occu- 
 pied the right of the division, and the 24th Kentucky stood 
 behind rifle-pits in the woods on the extreme right of the 
 brigade, having the place of danger and honor. 
 
 The Confederate lines were being tightened from day to 
 day around Knoxville, like a huge boa-constrictor about its 
 prey. On the 24th of November, the enemy kept up a sharp 
 fire on our advanced line. Sidney Gobbart, of Company "A," 
 was killed by a sharp-shooter. The regiment remained in the 
 trenches all day, and made occasional sorties. Capts. Barber 
 and Hall, with their respective companies, advanced on the 
 skirmish-line of the enemy, driving it back on the main col- 
 umn, occupying the ridge a thousand yards across a ravine to 
 our front. These companies were in turn forced to retreat to 
 their original position by the superior force of the enemy. 
 A number of advanced sharpshooters kept up a galling fire 
 during the day, and it was worth a man's life to expose his 
 body. Several of our men had been wounded by a gray- 
 headed Georgian who had burrowed himself at the roots of an 
 old tree, and I was anxious to get a shot at him. To this end 
 I crawled out to our front vidette, who had been exchanging 
 fruitless shots with the Confederate. I took a Springfield rifle 
 from the soldier, and laid my plans to get a good shot at the 
 defiant game who had killed and wounded our men without 
 exposing himself. I could see the spot from whence came the 
 death-dealing missiles ; and crawling up to the point of a jut- 
 ting rock, I took- off my cap, placed it on a stick, and slowly 
 moved it into an exposed position, when, quick as a flash, a 
 bullet went through it, and I let it fall to the earth as if the 
 head of a soldier went down to death. The Confederate, be- 
 lievi^s that he had killed the man in his immediate front, did 
 not exercise his usual caution in reloading his gun, but exposed 
 two-thirds of his shoulder and breast in the operation. I took 
 a dead aim from the rock where I lay, and pulled the trigger. 
 A flash a groan a lurch, throwing up the hands and one 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 95 
 
 of our most dangerous foes had passed over the River of Time. 
 Our main line was advanced during the day, and as a matter 
 of curiosity I went to the roots of the gnarled oak and found 
 the sharpshooter with a bullet through his right breast, calm 
 and peaceful in the sleep of death. I had some of my men 
 bury the old warrior at the foot of the oak, which served for 
 a monument. He had lived his allotted span, and I have no 
 doubt that his .last breath was offered up on what he deemed 
 the altar of patriotism. 
 
 On Wednesday, Nov. 25th, 1863, we noticed a great com- 
 motion among the Confederate troops occupying the heights. 
 Early in the morning the artillery opened fire on our earth- 
 works in the woods, shells bursting over our heads in rapid 
 succession, smashing tree-tops that fell into our wavering ranks, 
 while solid shot shrieked over the ridge, tearing up trees and 
 earth as if a cyclone had started on its mission of death. We 
 knew the terrible artillery fire was the precursor of a charge 
 by the enemy, and while our guns feebly replied, we kept a 
 keen watch across an old field that lay between us and the foe. 
 
 Suddenly there emerged from the opposite ridge a gray line 
 of battle, two columns deep, with flags flying, bayonets glis- 
 tening, and coming right across the field with that confidence 
 born of assured success, while the artillery from the heights 
 poured a stream of shot and shell into our ranks. 
 
 We were ordered to reserve our fire until the enemy showed 
 the whites of their eyes, and then to blaze away and charge 
 down the hill upon the ranks of the advancing troops. When 
 within fifty yards of our earthworks, coming in gallant style, 
 a death-dealing volley was given the enemy, as a morning sa- 
 lute, which caused them to stagger about like drunken men. 
 Yet still they came ; and when within a few feet of an old 
 worm fence on the margin of our woods, we dealt them an- 
 other fire, and at the same time Gen. Cameron, riding on his 
 excited steed, ordered a charge along the whole line. There 
 was some hesitancy in obeying the order on the left of our 
 line, and a seeming unwillingness to take the open field, thereby 
 
96 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 exposing the whole command to the murderous artillery that 
 poured their missiles down upon us with remarkably sure aim. 
 To start the charge, I ordered some of the men to throw down 
 part of the fence in our right front, and putting spurs to my 
 horse, jumped the barrier at a bound, calling upon the men to 
 dash forward to the charge, and meet the enemy in the open 
 field. 
 
 All was now in motion, and with fixed bayonets the men 
 rushed on to the foe, who broke and fled down the hill faster 
 than they came up. Col. Hurt led the left wing of the regi- 
 ment, which joined on the 65th Illinois, with the io3d Ohio 
 supporting our advancing column. I was put in charge of the 
 right wing of the regiment, abutting on the rugged rocks of 
 the Holston River. In a narrow gorge, our men endeavored 
 to scale the heights and turn the left of the enemy ; but they 
 perceived the movement, and depressed their cannon on our 
 struggling ranks, pouring into us a shower of shot and shell. 
 In one spot the regiment got into a tangle among the rocks, 
 and wavered backward and forward in the effort, to advance 
 and also at the same time escape the fury of the fire from the 
 heights. Our color-bearer, James Jackson, was shot down 
 and dropped the flag, which was taken up by another soldier, 
 who soon met the same fate. For a time it looked as if we 
 would be compelled to retreat ; but just as everything seemed 
 giving away, Col. Hurt rushed up and grasped the prostrate 
 flag, when our broken ranks rallied to his support and estab- 
 lished a line so close under the enemy's guns that they could 
 not depress them enough to make fatal shots, the shells and 
 balls shrieking over our heads as if a myriad of demons were 
 treating us to an infernal serenade. 
 
 Gens. Shackleford and Woolford, with their mounted corps, 
 came to our aid in this trying ordeal, Col. Charles D. Penny- 
 backer, of the 27th Kentucky, who commanded a brigade in 
 Woolford's division, bringing his gallant Kentuckians to the 
 front and strengthening our broken lines. The fight went on 
 with alternate success and defeat during the day, and even the 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 97 
 
 artillery of heaven joined in the roar below. Clouds, rain, 
 thunder and lightning accompanied the roaring fray. The 
 evening sun at last shot forth its parting beams, piercing the 
 dense woods with arrows of golden light. A final charge was 
 ordered. With five companies of the 24th Kentucky, I began 
 to climb the heights, and touching, as I thought, the column 
 on my left, we made our way through underbrush and dark 
 timber to the cannon that had been firing on us during the 
 day. All was seemingly still \ the guns were there, but the 
 soldiers had fled down the hill towards their pontoon bridge 
 that connected the north side of the Holston with the main 
 column of Longstreet. I went to my left, and found, instead 
 of support by the brigade, nothing but an interminable forest. 
 The whole command, it seems, had fallen back to our original 
 base in the woods, and left me with the five companies isolated 
 but victorious on the enemy's ground. I knew it was useless 
 for me to attempt to hold the captured position without sup- 
 port, and as I saw through the timbers a line of soldiers ad- 
 vancing to reoccupy the ground they had so suddenly vacated, 
 I determined that in this particular instance discretion was the 
 better part of valor, and withdrew my men down the hill and 
 through a large open field, back to the works we had occupied 
 in the morning. It was reported to Gen. Burnside, at Knox- 
 ville, that I had been captured with all my men ; and many 
 of my own regiment, including Col. Hurt, thought I had been 
 taken in as fresh food for Andersonville and Libby prison. 
 
 I believe it was acknowledged by all that if the brigade and 
 division had been actuated by my enthusiasm, the Union forces 
 on the south side of the Holston would have camped on the 
 ground of the enemy that bleak November night, and the two 
 Confederate brigades would have been compelled to recross 
 the river. 
 
 It is a ludicrous thing to behold brave soldiers fighting each 
 other and each moment increasing the distance between battle- 
 lines each party fearing the other, and both retreating when 
 no one pursues. This may be on the principle that 
 
 7 
 
9 8 A CHECKERED LII<E. 
 
 " He who fights and runs away 
 May live to fight another day ; 
 But he who in the battle 's slain 
 Will never live to fight again." 
 
 From the 25th to Sunday, the 29th, my regiment was con- 
 stantly engaged in skirmishing with the enemy. It seems that 
 Gen. Longstreet determined to make one desperate effort to 
 break our lines and capture Fort Sanders before Gen. Grant 
 could send troops to our relief from his successful army at 
 Chattanooga. An assaulting column of two thousand veteran 
 soldiers, commanded by Gen. McLaws, was selected to dash 
 against Fort Sanders early Sunday morning, while the balance 
 of Longstreet's command were to stand in readiness to support 
 any lodgment the forlorn hope might secure. Brave hearts 
 beating high with hope stood ready to charge to the death, in 
 the first dawn of that fatal Sunday morning. 
 
 During the night, information was brought to Gen. Burnside 
 of the contemplated attack. Action was immediately taken ; 
 additional troops were silently sent to the support of the fort, 
 and the breastworks to the right and left of it were filled with 
 men, who rested on their arms in anticipation of assault. 
 
 Mr. Hoxie, superintendent of the railroad, in this emergency 
 thought of a Yankee trick, and suggested to Capt. Poe, chief 
 engineer, that a lot of loose telegraph wire be utilized to trip 
 up the charging enemy in their dash on the fort. The ditch 
 in front of the bastioned work was eight feet deep and twelve 
 feet wide. Jutting angles with close embrasures contained 
 heavy guns loaded with grape and cannister, shot and shell. 
 The wire was trailed zigzag around the stumps and through the 
 grass that margined the pits in front of the fort. Lieut. Ben- 
 jamin commanded the artillery in the fort, and did splendid 
 work. About two thousand men dashed on the earthworks 
 with all the confidence of victory ; but just as they neared the 
 deep, broad ditch, they began to stumble, and many were 
 pitched headlong into the jaws of death ; the double-shotted 
 guns were touched off, and a perfect pandemonium prevailed 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 99 
 
 in the bloody, torn ranks of the gallant besiegers, who climbed 
 over the forms of their dying comrades up the steep sides of 
 the fort, which still belched forth certain death to the strug- 
 gling mass of devoted heroes. 
 
 Blood and bone, combined with noble daring, was not suffi- 
 cient to overcome the heroic conduct of our soldiers, the un- 
 foreseen wire entanglement, and the terrible cannon and mus- 
 ketry fire that poured a blaze of death into the very face of the 
 assaulting column. A short half hour found the Confederate 
 heroes dead and dying in the ditch, which ran with human 
 blood. Out of the assaulting brigade, one thousand had been 
 killed, wounded or captured, while the Union loss was only 
 four killed and eleven wounded. A Colonel of a Georgia 
 regiment was in command of the forlorn hope, and, strange to 
 say, he succeeded in climbing the steep side of the fort, and 
 planting the " stars and bars" in the very teeth of our men. 
 An artillery sergeant lifted his heavy cutlass to strike down the 
 daring officer, but a more generous and magnanimous soldier 
 struck aside the blade, and saved the life of the brave and reck- 
 less Georgian. 
 
 Thus the death of our young and gallant General Sanders, of 
 Kentucky, was desperately avenged in the assault on the fort 
 named in his honor. 
 
 While the assault on the fort was in progress, Law and Rob- 
 ertson, on the south side of the river, made several attacks on 
 our works, and succeded in driving us out of our front lines, 
 The division of Gen. Haskell was reinforced by the command 
 of Gen. Shackleford, when we moved on the enemy and re- 
 occupied our lines. My regiment suffered severely ; the flag 
 was shot down, but through the staying qualities of Col. Hurt 
 and his men, we more than held our ground until night put an 
 end to the carnage. In the several engagements about Arm- 
 strong's Heights, on the south side, my regiment lost fifty-six 
 men in killed and wounded. With our superior mountain 
 marksmen, we were constantly in demand at the front, and thus 
 suffered more severely than other regiments in the brigade. 
 
100 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 In one of the charges of the regiment through the woods, 
 Will Cortmell, Company "I," a Bath county boy whom I knew 
 at home, was shot through the head, just at my side. Lieut. 
 Lewis, Company "K," of Montgomery, was severely wounded, 
 as also was Lieut. Desilve. About this time I was struck down 
 by a Minie' bullet, which shocked my whole frame. I felt at 
 once for the hole in my left breast, but on close examination, 
 discovered that the ball had passed through my overcoat, dress 
 coat and vest, and imbedded itself in a thick memorandum 
 book that I kept in my inside vest pocket, the bullet being 
 flattened out by the resistance. And, strange to say, the bullet 
 cut the leaves of the book from the first date of the year to the 
 25th of November, the very date of the battle. I am writing 
 now with the same torn memorandum book of twenty-one 
 years ago before me, and I am sure that were it not for those 
 thin, compact leaves, I should have been pierced through the 
 heart. Some are thus fated to escape death in battle and oth- 
 erwise by a hair's breadth 
 
 " To grasp the skirts of happy chance, 
 And breast the blows of circumstance." 
 
 Longstreet was very confident, when he drew his lines about 
 Knoxville, that Burnside and his "boys in blue" were fated to 
 surrender. He sent in a flag of truce demanding the uncon- 
 ditional surrender of Eurnside and his men ; but "Old Burny," 
 as the boys fondly called him, replied in these curt words : " I 
 have a few rounds of ammunition and a few soldiers ; and if 
 you want them, come and take them ! " 1 will give Longstreet 
 credit for trying to accommodate Burnside, for in the charge 
 upon Fort Sanders there was no nonsense in design nor halt- 
 ing in execution. 
 
 During the last week of the siege, provisions were very scarce 
 with the men and officers of the various regiments, whatever 
 may have been the supply at headquarters. Brown bran bread, 
 baked in brick ovens at Knoxville, was issued, and corn and fat 
 bacon from the Holston and French Broad were distributed in 
 sparing quantities. I divided my supply of corn on the cob 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 101 
 
 with my sorrel horse, who found his sustenance on the twigs, 
 roots and branches of the woods, while six ears of corn -per day 
 were given him as a luxury. I shelled my corn in hot ashes, 
 and filled my pockets with the roasted kernels. In the constant 
 call for our services in the trenches there were no stated times 
 for meals, but when the gnawings of hunger attacked our patri- 
 otism, we resorted to parched corn and water from the babbling 
 brook. The brook did not babble as sweetly as in the love-lit 
 long ago, but it was very filling under the circumstances, and 
 after a banquet of corn and water we might have been taken 
 for the warriors of Falstaff or a lot of Dutch aldermen. 
 
 On the night of the 4th of December, 1863, Burnside was 
 advised of the advanced command of Gen. Sherman, that had 
 hastened to our relief by the way of Kingston and Marysville. 
 Longstreet became very uneasy and pulled up stakes, leaving 
 leisurely for East Tennessee and Virginia. 
 
 The relieving command of General Sherman must have num- 
 bered thirty thousand men, including the troops of Howard, 
 Granger, Blair and Long, who first marched into our camp 
 on the south side of the Holston, bringing new hope and 
 strength to our depleted, hungry columns. 
 
 On the morning of the 6th of December, General Sherman, 
 Granger, Blair and staff officers, rode by our camp with ten 
 thousand men of Granger's command. We looked down upon 
 our supporting comrades from our strong fortifications on the 
 Marysville road with a feeling of security, knowing that sure 
 deliverance was at hand, and that the enemy was in full re- 
 treat to the Virginia line. 
 
 On the 7th of December, my regiment left their line of log 
 huts that skirted the Marysville road, and crossed the Holston 
 in pursuit of Longstreet. That night we camped near the 
 railroad bridge at Strawberry Plains. The enemy was re- 
 ported in force at Blain's Cross-Roads. We moved out the 
 next morning on the road to Rodgersville and Rutlidge, and 
 for several days camped, skirmished and foraged among the 
 spurs of the Clinch mountains. Several prisoners were taken 
 
102 A CHECKERED LlhE. 
 
 from the straggling soldiers of Longstreet, and many of his 
 men deserted, coming into our camp for food, raiment and 
 protection. They were cold and hungry. 
 
 I was greatly astonished to see some of the prisoners bare- 
 footed, in the snows of winter, among the sterile hills of Ten- 
 nesse, starving and in rags, fighting for what they deemed the 
 right. Their bravery and misfortune commanded my respect 
 and admiration, and I never failed to divide with them my 
 last cracker or corn-dodger. I thought of the rebels at Valley 
 Forge, under the immortal Washington, when fighting in the 
 snows of winter, hungry and naked, against the English tyrant, 
 and compared the Revolution patriots of '76 with the Con- 
 federate soldiers of '61. I saw this difference, however the 
 first fought for the liberty of all men, while the latter fought 
 for the liberty of some men ! One fought a government of 
 fraud and force, while the other fought the government of 
 their own making, and that, too, in the interest of slavery, 
 which gave to the purse-proud few the right to enslave millions 
 of human beings. 
 
 Our command now camped, and marched about Strawberry 
 Plains until the i6th of January, when we were ordered to 
 move on Dandridge, where a heavy column of the enemy 
 camped on the French Broad. General Foster had taken 
 command in East Tennessee, and General Parke had charge 
 of the forces in active service in the field. We went up to- 
 Dandridge in brave style met the enemy, and returned a 
 great deal faster than we went. On the night of the ryth, 
 our army moved back to Strawberry Plains, continually har- 
 rassed by cavalry. Such a night march is seldom seen. 
 Wagons blocked the road, which in many places seemed to 
 have no bottom. Longstreet captured our beef cattle and 
 considerable commissary stores. Rain came down in torrents. 
 The next day my regiment was left as a rear-guard to the 
 army. We had to make several stands and fire into the pur- 
 suing cavalry, in order to allow the tired mules and lumber- 
 ing wagons to escape capture. During the night our road of 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 103 
 
 retreat was lit up with burning wagons. We camped on a 
 mountain slope near Strawberry Plains, about twelve o'clock 
 in the night, and sank down to rest after forty-eight hours of 
 foolish marches in search of an enemy that our commander in 
 the field dare not fight when found. The snow came down 
 thick and fast during the night, and when the morning sun- 
 light ushered in the day, we arose from our cold slumber, 
 weary, hungry and dejected. 
 
 The enemy followed us to the Holston River, and the rail- 
 road bridge that we had but recently rebuilt was burned to 
 prevent the Confederate cavalry from crossing. We continued 
 our retreat to Knoxville, while the enemy followed us nearly 
 to the outworks of the town in great force. The idea of 
 twenty-five thousand veteran soldiers retreating from a few 
 thousand ragged and starving Confederates was disgraceful. 
 There was not even a private in the army at Dandridge that 
 did not want to fight. We went there for that purpose, and 
 our generals flunked. Why our army of twenty-five thousand 
 men, including the command of Foster, cavalry of Sturgis and 
 corps of Granger, did not sfan2 and fight was commented 
 upon freely, at the time, by men and officers. 
 
 I venture to say if "Uncle Billy" Sherman had remained in 
 immediate command, instead of returning to Chattanooga, 
 the broken army of Longstreet would have been accommo- 
 dated with a first-class fight ; and the strong probabilities are 
 that the Confederate forces would have been thrashed in the 
 open field. I don't say this in any spirit of boasting, but as 
 a simple evidence of the faith soldiers have in a commander 
 who finds the enemy, and fights him then and there. This 
 thing of drill and dress parade in front of the enemy is all 
 flummery and bosh ; and the only generals who have ever suc- 
 ceeded in battle, down the centuries, are those determined, 
 lunatic characters who say : 
 
 " I have set my life upon a cast, 
 
 And will stand the hazard of the die." 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CHATTANOOGA AND ATLANTA. 
 
 In the spring 1864, great preparations were being made 
 to move against the Confederate army entrenched upon the 
 strong hills of Dalton on the railroad south of Chattanooga. 
 General Joseph E. Johnston, an accomplished commander, 
 concentrated about fifty thousand men to check the further 
 progress of the Union army. 
 
 Generals Grant and Sherman finally concentrated an army 
 of a hundred thousand men about Chattanooga. The army 
 of the Cumberland was commanded by the old Roman, 
 George H. Thomas. The army of the Tennessee was com- 
 manded by the chivalric and dashing McPherson, while the 
 army of the Ohio was commanded by the calm and imperturba- 
 ble Schofield. 
 
 General W. T. Sherman, the best field-fighter of our war, 
 took immediate command of the combined armies, and by 
 masterly movements never stopped his onward triumph until 
 he planted his victorious colors down by the sea. 
 
 The 24th Kentucky moved away from Knoxville in the 
 early days of 1864, passed on to Loudon, Charleston and 
 Cleveland, where it rested awhile to recruit and organize its 
 broken ranks. General J. D. Cox commanded our Division ; 
 Daniel Cameron, 65th 111., was put in command of the brig- 
 ade, while Gen. Riley, io4th Ohio, occasionally commanded. 
 
 About the 6th of May, 1864, we moved off towards Rocky 
 Face and Buzzard Roost, the 23rd Army Corps joining on the 
 left of General Thomas in the movement against Tunnel 
 Hill and Dalton. The movements of Sherman's army pressed 
 strongly about the entrenched lines of Johnston on Dalton 
 
 104 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 105 
 
 Heights, and while Thomas and Schofield made it hot for the 
 advanced Confederates about Rocky Face, McPherson was 
 moving through Snake Creek Gap, a long, deep, narrow val- 
 ley, to the left rear of Johnson, leading to the town of 
 Resaca. 
 
 It was intended that McPherson, with his twenty thousand 
 veteran soldiers, should strike the railroad at Resaca in rear 
 of the Confederates, and thus dislodge them by a bloodless 
 flank movement. While the General was not at once suc- 
 cessful in causing the enemy to let go their strong hold on 
 Dalton, two days after, on the nth of May, they vacated their 
 works and fell back to an entrenched position at Resaca. 
 
 The whole army soon marched through Snake Creek Gap, 
 and followed quickly in the wake of the Confederates. The 
 rugged heights and country roads were as rough as breastworks, 
 fallen trees, rifle-pits, dense underbrush, mud and rain could 
 make them. 
 
 On the 1 4th of May the army drew its bayonet-lines about 
 Resaca, and at once proceeded to business. The Oostenaula 
 River was a protecting line to Johnston, and in the event of 
 defeat it would cover his "advance to the rear;" but Sherman 
 threw a couple of pontoon bridges across the river below the 
 town, where he could quickly dispatch troops towards Calhoun 
 and Kingston. McPherson occupied the right, Thomas the 
 center, and Schofield the left. 
 
 The division of General Cox moved on the enemy's strong 
 works about noon, the 24th Kentucky occupying the extreme 
 right front of the command. We charged across an open field 
 interspersed with dead trees that flung out their ghostly arms to 
 welcome us to the shadows of death. A roaring fire of artil- 
 lery burst from the enemy's works on the margin of the woods 
 on our front ; shot and shell fell among the dead tree-tops and 
 crashed down upon the moving columns like a shower of mete- 
 oric stones. An incessant musketry fire lent its music to the 
 roar of battle, and the charging ranks forgot the danger of the 
 moment in the excitement of action. 
 
I0 6 A CHECKERED LI BE. 
 
 Scaling a ridge in the immediate front of the enemy's breast- 
 works, the 24th Ky. and 65th Illinois, supported by the io3d and 
 1 04th Ohio, dashed off on a bayonet charge, and before the 
 Confederates could realize the situation, we had captured their 
 first line of works and driven them back upon stronger fortifi- 
 cations. At this point in the battle, a young hero from Mount 
 Sterling was shot through the head, and died with a smile on 
 his face. Colie Apperson was a favorite with every one in the 
 regiment, and had formerly enlisted in Company "K," as a 
 private. His youth, spirit and education attracted the attention 
 of Col. Grigsby and Quartermaster Trumbo, who made the 
 eighteen-year old boy Quartermaster-Sergeant, which position 
 he held on the morning of the Resaca fight. 
 
 When the charge across the field was being made, I noticed 
 him as a file-closer, in the company of Captain Anderson, and 
 knowing that he should be in the rear with the wagons, ordered 
 him back out of danger, saying that it was not his duty to be 
 with a gun fighting in the ranks. He begged me to allow him 
 to fight in one battle any way, as he had enlisted for that pur- 
 pose. I spoke to Col. Hurt in regard to him, and as everything 
 was under way, all that could be done was to allow matters to 
 work themselves out as fate dictated. 
 
 Peaceful and calm the young soldier lay in the trench, never 
 again to hear the roar of battle or join in the cheers of his 
 comrades. When night put an end to the carnage, Will L. 
 Vischer, the standard-bearer, and Sam Nelson, the commissary 
 sergeant, fashioned a rude coffin and buried him in a temporary 
 grave near a farm-house, marking the spot. At the close of the 
 war his remains were removed to Mt. Sterling by Vischer, and 
 buried among the friends who loved him in life. Peace to the 
 ashes of a noble young soldier who stepped even beyond his 
 duty to strike a blow for the old flag. 
 
 The 24th suffered severely at Resaca, Capt. Cary, Company 
 "B;" Capt. Hedges, Company "G;" Lieut. Mclntyre, Com- 
 pany " B," and Lieut. Nelson, Company " E," were wounded ; 
 four enlisted men were killed, fifty-four wounded, and nineteen 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. to/. 
 
 were missing making a total loss in the battle, of eighty-one 
 men. The 24th had only about three hundred men for imme- 
 diate duty after the fight, being crippled more than any other 
 regiment in the brigade. 
 
 Gen. M. D. Manson commanded our brigade in the Resaca 
 fight, and exposed himself like the rest of the men in the ad- 
 vance upon the earthworks. Just before the close of the battle 
 he received a painful wound, and was compelled to retire from 
 the field. Col. Hurt then took command of the brigade, and 
 Lieut. -Col. North assumed command of the regiment. The 
 latter had a fine horse shot under him, but continued to lead 
 the men on foot as if nothing had occurred to disturb his equa- 
 nimity. North was a man without the varnish of education, 
 but he had that sterling loyalty, determination and good com- 
 mon sense, that made him superior to the general run of college 
 graduates. 
 
 Johnston was compelled to loose his hold on Resaca and the 
 Oostenaula River, falling back upon the hills of Cassville and 
 Cartersville, on the Etowah. Schofield's command followed 
 on the left wing of the army, passing through Adairsville, and 
 on the morning of the 2oth of May advanced to battle against 
 the supposed strongholds of the enemy ; but instead of fighting 
 at Cassville, the Confederate commander retreated across the 
 Etowah, leaving behind long lines of fresh breastworks, riiie- 
 pits, field-forts, and that desolation which marks the track of a 
 retreating army. 
 
 We camped for a few days in the vicinity of Cassville and 
 Cartersville. General Cox's division was kept busy recon- 
 noitering along the upper waters of the Etowah, in conjunc- 
 tion with our cavalry. About fifteen miles from the railroad 
 bridge over the Etowah, to the north-east, iron works and 
 foundries had been established, where the Confederates manu- 
 factured munitions of war. Schofield desired the destruction 
 of these works, and Gen. Cox was selected to devise means for 
 destroying them. Our brigade was appointed to perform the 
 task, and a part of the 24th Kentucky, with a detail of men 
 
108 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 from the 65th Illinois and 103(1 and io4th Ohio, composed the 
 raiding party. Fifty picked men were selected, and placed 
 under the command of Lieut. James Caughlan, of Company 
 " K," 24th Kentucky, who was at the time serving as aid-de- 
 camp on the staff of Gen. Cox. He was empowered to select 
 some other officer to assist in the undertaking, and as a num- 
 ber had volunteered to enter the enemy's lines on this perilous 
 duty, he finally resolved upon my aid, believing that I had the 
 determination to take the consequences of a forlorn hope. 
 
 The fifty men who volunteered knew, through a loyal citi- 
 zen-guide, that the works were guarded by a regiment of cav- 
 alry. When all was in readiness, we marched off through the 
 mountains, in by-paths, with our guns and forty rounds, and 
 hard-tack. After going nearly fifteen miles without meeting 
 anybody, we were suddenly brought to a halt by our guide on 
 a hill-top overlooking the smoking foundry and the winding 
 waters of the Etowah. It was after six o'clock, and the mill- 
 hands had quit work for the day, while the cavalry guarding 
 the bridge, ford and works, were preparing their evening meal 
 in fancied security on the bank of the river. 
 
 A quick reconnaissance showed us a gulch leading down to 
 the rear of the mill. We prepared torches of pine splinters 
 to throw among the combustibles of the factory. Part of the 
 men were left in a clump of bushes commanding the bridge, 
 over which the cavalry might dash. Caughlan and I led the 
 other men down the secret gulch, into the mill, which we left 
 in smoke and flames quicker than it takes to tell it. We also 
 fired the bridge, and before ten minutes had elapsed the object 
 of our raid was accomplished, and we were in full retreat to 
 our supporting base at Cartersville. The cavalry followed us 
 for several miles, but by taking advantage of lanes, short cuts 
 and mountain paths, the "horse marines" could not compete 
 with "Sherman's bummers." We destroyed the Confederate 
 arsenal and returned to camp without the loss of a man, re- 
 ceiving the encomiums of our comrades and the thanks of 
 General Cox. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 109 
 
 Lieutenant Caughlan was the leading spirit and determined 
 genius of the raid. He coincided with my desperate sugges- 
 tions, believing, as all true soldiers believe, that the bold and 
 unexpected thing results in success. In war, if it become* 
 necessary to burn, wound and kill, do it at once, and senti- 
 mentalize when the enemy is dead. No man ever made a 
 successful general unless he believed in his own power to win 
 the battle before it began. The soldier who enters a fight 
 with a doubt is half whipped before the action commences; 
 but he who has no doubt of his own heart and strength will 
 almost invariably meet with the success his bravery engenders. 
 
 Caughlan was a natural soldier, young and enthusiastic. 
 He was of Irish blood, imbued with the firmness and patriot- 
 ism of General Lyon, and the religious solemnity of Stone- 
 wall Jackson. While serving on the staff of General Cox, at 
 the battle of Franklin, he was shot through the body in rally- 
 ing broken Union forces, fronting the charging lines of Gen. 
 Pat Cleburne, the Confederate warrior. Both of these gallant 
 Irishmen fell on the field of Franklin, one fighting for the 
 ''stars and bars," and the other for the " stars and stripes." 
 
 The grass has long since grown above their heroic graves, 
 and the blooming wild flowers have come and gone in the 
 circling years ; but in the halls of memory they are enshrined 
 by those who loved them in the long ago. 
 
 " So with an equal splendor 
 
 The morning sun-rays fall, 
 With a touch impartially tender 
 
 On the blossoms blooming for all 
 Under the sod and the dew, 
 
 Waiting the judgment day ; 
 Bordering with gold, the Blue, 
 
 Mellowing with gold, the Gray !" 
 
 Johnston was unwilling to risk a general battle at Cassville, 
 on account of the cold support received from General Hood, 
 one of his corps commanders. Hood was a fiery officer, and 
 wanted his own way in attacking the enemy. He had the 
 
IIO A CHECKERED LU-E. 
 
 courage of a lion, but lacked that calm judgment necessary to 
 success in great emergencies. When a boy at school, in Mt. 
 Sterling, Ky., and previous to his designation to West Point, 
 he would frequently get into quarrels with his schoolmates, 
 and while he always fought bravely, he generally got the worst 
 of the encounter. So, again, we have the truth of the old 
 adage : " The child is father to the man. ' ' Peace to the ashes 
 of a brave soldier and a warm-hearted friend. 
 
 Between the 23d and 25th of May, Sherman's army had 
 passed over the Etowah, and had started a flank movement 
 through the Allatoona Mountains in search of the retreating 
 enemy. It was necessary for us to keep up our railroad com- 
 munications with Chattanooga, and while Johnston and his 
 men destroyed all the bridges in their flight towards Atlanta, 
 they were rebuilt as if by magic, by the intelligent engineer 
 corps of the army. No more important work was performed 
 by any part of the army than the rapid reconstruction of rail- 
 road bridges, upon which depended the supplies for our troops, 
 who were fighting in front on short rations. 
 
 Schofield, with the army of the Ohio and Stoneman's cavalry, 
 kept on the left of our advance, near the railroad, through the 
 Allatoona range. We passed near the village of Burnt Hick- 
 ory in making our way towards Dallas. Our march through 
 the rugged roads of Allatoona was the weariest and worst I 
 ever experienced. We passed gulches formerly worked for 
 gold, toppling rocks and splintered crags, narrow ridges 
 scarcely broad enough for wagons, swamps and ravines covered 
 with thick underbrush, and tall pines and scrubby oaks, whose 
 dripping boughs pattered a funeral requiem to the dying 
 groans of company officers and advanced pickets, who con- 
 stantly went down to death. 
 
 The Confederate army had stopped among the abrupt hills 
 of Allatoona at a place called New Hope, named in honor of a 
 Methodist church established there some years before. It now 
 seemed that a general engagement was imminent, and that the 
 long-sought battle was at hand. The broken ground and field 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. in 
 
 fortifications were all in favor of the enemy, and although 
 General Sherman had superior numbers, he was offset by the 
 splendid position of Johnston. There was no time lost by us 
 in moving to the front, quick as muddy roads and rolling hills 
 would admit. Each day we advanced through rain, mud and 
 brush, throwing up breastworks with head-logs as we steadily 
 drew a cordon of bayonets about the enemy. Firing was 
 constant, and I could almost swear that during the month of 
 May, the rain, roar of artillery and rattle of musketry never 
 ceased, night or day. 
 
 The 24th went to rest in the woods about New Hope church, 
 wet, hungry and desperate. When the blessed angel of sleep 
 seemed to hover over us, the sound of small arms broke our 
 repose, and the bullets kept plugging our earthworks and 
 head-logs, while many of them found a lodgment in the breasts 
 of the boys in blue. McPherson, Hooker and Thomas kept 
 pushing the enemy, and a number of engagements that rose to 
 the dignity of battles were fought by the contending armies. 
 
 About the ist of June, Johnston began to relax his hold on 
 the foot-hills of Allatoona, and by the 4th he was retreating 
 to the heights of Kenesaw Mountain, where fortifications were 
 erected that defied assault. Schofield's command swung 
 around on the railroad, passed through Ackworth to Big 
 Shanty and began at once to move upon the bold peaks of 
 Kenesaw that stood out in grand relief against the evening sky. 
 
 Kenesaw, Pine Mountain and Lost Mountain had to be 
 taken before we could march in triumph to Atlanta ; and the 
 contract was not easy to accomplish. But, as we worked our 
 way through fearful obstacles among the passes of Allatoona 
 .and New Hope, we felt confident of success in the almost 
 insurmountable job before us ; and on the loth of June drew 
 up against frowning mountains that lay in our pathway. 
 
 The bridges ' and railroad behind us had been quickly 
 repaired, and the snort of the iron horse was soon heard echo- 
 ing among the gorges of Big Shanty, in sight of the enemy on 
 the mountain tops. They must have thought Yankee railroad 
 
II2 A CHECKERED LIFE, 
 
 workers possessed the lamp of Aladdin, having only to wish 
 and rub for the accomplishment of every desire. I, myself, 
 was amazed at the rapidity with which we were supplied with 
 beef, crackers, pork and the materials of war, coming through 
 Kentucky, Tennessee and Georgia to the front of the rebellion. 
 The generality of soldiers have no conception of the thought 
 and trouble taken by the commander of an army to supply his 
 troops in passing through an enemy's country, where every 
 vestige of forage and food has been swept away by retreating 
 soldiers. 
 
 The battle of Kenesaw Mountain, and encounters leading 
 up to that fatal June day, were the stepping-stones to Atlanta, 
 and the threshold to the back door of the Confederate temple. 
 
 McPherson worked around to the left on the railroad, 
 Thomas supported his right, and Schofield changed base to 
 right in rear, and swung around Lost Mountain to the foot- 
 hills of Kenesaw. Hooker, as usual, fought at every turn in 
 the road, and like his fellowtype, Hood, never calculated the 
 chances while there was any body to hit. The real object of 
 " Fighting Joe" was to fight somebody and reap unexpected 
 glory for himself, irrespective of his comrade's renown. The 
 old soldier was a little vain ; yet, considering his aristocratic 
 education at West Point and his experience in three wars, no 
 particular blame should be attached to the bold hero who 
 fought above the clouds at Lookout Mountain, and never 
 refused a fight while he had a man to command. The 
 " boys" had confidence in the valor and brilliancy of " Fight- 
 ing Joe," and in the coming years his name will be sung and 
 told in story. The old warrior had his failings, but halting 
 and hesitating were not in the list, and while the enemy was 
 in front he never asked a better post than that of danger. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 KENESAW MOUNTAIN. 
 
 From the loth of June to the 27th, the fighting about Ken- 
 esaw was almost continuous. The rain came down in tor- 
 rents, superinduced, no doubt, by the concussion of roaring 
 artillery and the rattle of musketry. Roads, fields and woods 
 were resolved into quagmires, and the small creeks leading 
 from the frowning battlements of Kenesaw were swollen to 
 the magnitude of rivers, and spread over the bottom land in 
 all directions. 
 
 On the 1 4th, while General Johnston was surveying the 
 advancing columns of Sherman from the heights of Pine 
 Mountain, in company with Hardee and Polk, a solid shot 
 from our artillery hit the latter in the breast, causing instant 
 death, throwing a cloud of sorrow over the ranks of the Con- 
 federates. 
 
 Leonidas Polk gave up the peaceful canons of the Episcopal 
 chureh for the cannon of bloody war, and like his namesake 
 at Thermopylae, died with his harness on. No nobler monu- 
 ment than Pine Mountain could mark the spot where the 
 fighting preacher fell, and as the coming ages roll away, the 
 tall pines on the bold mountain peak will sing a requiem to 
 his memory, and the waters of Chattahoochee will mingle 
 with his fame forever. 
 
 On the 22d of June, Schofield had swung around to the right 
 of Hooker, commanding the 2oth Army Corps. We were on 
 the road leading from Powder Springs to Marietta, the rear 
 base of Johnston. 
 
 "3 8 
 
II4 A CHECKERED LI BE. 
 
 In the afternoon, when no particular fight seemed at hand, 
 the enemy made a fierce and determined attack on Hooker, 
 which was returned by the divisions of Geary and Ward with 
 double vigor, and just as the right of the 20th Corps was being 
 turned, Schofield, who watched the attack, threw in the divi- 
 sion of General Hascall, supported by General Cox and his 
 command, routing the audacious soldiers of Johnston and 
 Hood. The killed and wounded of the enemy were left on 
 the field of battle, and afterwards buried by our men. The 
 i4th Ky., of Hascall's command, acted very gallantly as ad- 
 vanced fighters, and while the loss in killed and wounded was 
 severe, the survivors were glorified in the action, and main- 
 tained the renown of Old Kentucky. 
 
 Rain continued to pour down as if emptied from a sky-tank 
 with the plug out, while Schofield wiggled along to the right 
 and front, his men drenched to the skin, with only an occa- 
 sional smudgy fire improvised to cook their coffee and bacon. 
 The men of the 24th often wished that they could be led 
 directly against the enemy and die on the field of battle, 
 rather than shake out their lives in the dripping woods and 
 underbrush that waved in the chilling winds. 
 
 Our division was headed down the Sandtown road, across 
 Olley's Creek, swollen to the extent of a river, and the coun- 
 try bridges over tributary streams had been swept away by 
 the flood, or torn up by the enemy. On the 25th and 26th, 
 we endeavored to cross a bridge over a big creek on the Sand- 
 town road. Generals Sherman and Schofield were anxious to 
 make our alignment with Hooker and Thomas, and thus close 
 in on the fortified base of Kenesaw. The bridge just men- 
 tioned was guarded by cavalry and mountain howitzers on the 
 extreme left of Johnston, protecting the roads leading to 
 Marietta. The io3d Ohio had endeavored to dislodge the 
 enemy from the high road on the opposite banks of the stream, 
 but whenever they emerged from the timbers leading down to 
 the bridge, a fearful rattle of howitzer missiles assailed them, 
 driving them back. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. i 1 5 
 
 The General commanding rode up in the woods, near a 
 church, with his staff officers flying about like blackbirds in a 
 corn-field. Orders were given to cross the stream at all haz- 
 ards. General Cox came to Colonel Hurt and asked him to 
 move the 24th to the front, reconnoiter, and if possible, charge 
 across the bridge, and make a lodgment on the south side, so 
 that the troops of Schofield and Stoneman could pass over and 
 complete the advancing line. The General assured Colonel 
 Hurt that our desperate charge would be supported by a bat- 
 tery that had just unlimbered in the margin of the woods, and 
 we should receive the assistance of the whole division if nec- 
 essary, while General Riley would be in immediate support 
 with his brigade. 
 
 The 24th was drawn up along the Sandtown road in double 
 file, heading towards the bridge a hundred yards in front, 
 looking down a steep decline. Col. Hurt and myself con- 
 sulted, and examined with a glass the status of the bridge. 
 We found that the flooring had been torn up, and nothing but 
 a few sleepers, hand-rails and long stringers were left to cross 
 upon. The flood had almost reached the stringers, and was 
 running rapidly through the woods. It was concluded to dash 
 down to the bridge and let the men scramble over as best they 
 could, and those who succeeded in getting over first, were to 
 charge up the hill right in the face of " Jackass battery." I 
 went to the captains of the ten companies in person, and 
 ordered them to instruct their men regarding the perilous 
 charge before us, and as I returned to the head of the line, 
 gave the men encouragement, assuring them that while other 
 regiments had tried to cross the creek, the "Old 24th" was 
 equal to the task, and would certainly meet with success. 
 
 Hurt and myself took the head of the regiment he the 
 right file and I the left. When all was in readiness the artil- 
 lery opened, and we dashed off at a rapid run for the bridge, 
 scrambling across like squirrels. One murderous fire was all 
 the battery could pour into us, for before they could reload 
 we cut down the gunners, killed a number of horses, captured 
 
n6 A CHECKERED LlfiE. 
 
 two pieces, and sent their cavalry support in rapid flight down 
 the road to Marietta. Our loss was only seven men. 
 
 In half an hour the corps of Schofield had crossed over the 
 bridge, the divisions had made alignment with Hooker, and 
 the cavalry of General Stoneman was pressing the enemy ta 
 the very parapets of Kenesaw. The 24th received the thanks 
 of Schofield and Cox, and the privilege of resting for coffee 
 and "hard tack" on the night of the 25th, advancing next 
 morning in fine condition for the coming battle of the 27th of 
 June, 1864. 
 
 The morning sun rose bright and warm on the frowning 
 heights of Kenesaw. The enemy lay behind strong fortifica- 
 tions, with fifty thousand men ready and willing to receive our 
 charging columns. Sherman, McPherson, Thomas and Scho- 
 field determined to make a direct assault on the mountain bar- 
 riers. A hundred thousand victorious soldiers were thought 
 strong enough to capture any place ; and as Johnston had 
 made his boldest stand at Kenesaw, Sherman concluded ta 
 give him direct battle and risk the consequences. 
 
 About nine o'clock on the morning of the 27th, the charging 
 columns of McPherson and Thomas were moving in full force 
 against the parapets at the base of the mountains, while Scho- 
 field continued to tighten his grip on the Confederate left,, 
 threatening the railroad at Marietta. Artillery and musketry- 
 kept up a constant fire. My regiment moved to the right of 
 Hooker's command, and as we made our way through the 
 dense brush, dark woods and fallen trees cut to intercept our 
 progress, I could see, far to the left, long dark lines as thejr 
 swayed backward and forward in the rising smoke of battle. 
 Loud and long came the thundering noise of shot and shell 
 from the mountain top on our advancing troops. Heaven's 
 artillery seemed working in Titanic grandeur, to destroy our 
 wavering lines. McPherson and his men, at one period of the 
 battle, scaled Little Kenesaw, and the right flank of Johnston 
 seemed in imminent danger; but when the smoke had cleared 
 away, they were seen to be backing down the mountain under 
 
A CHECKERED J.IFE. 117 
 
 a galling fire. Old " Pap " Thomas sent his army against the 
 tangled abatis and earthworks with the power of a centre 
 wedge, driving his men into the very jaws of death, but the 
 stubborn heroes of Johnston would not give way, sending a 
 constant stream of lead and iron into the vitals of the Union 
 army. Schofield endeavored to swing into the rear of the 
 Confederates, pressing right up to their fortifications, and 
 crouching down in front of the fallen trees and rifle-pits he 
 could not surmount. 
 
 Human blood and bravery have seldom done more in three 
 hours than Sherman's men did at Kenesaw; and while this 
 is true, I must candidly acknowledge that the defiant heroes 
 of Johnston did more, for they repelled to the last our re- 
 peated assaults, and prevented our army from taking their for- 
 tified mountain. 
 
 About ii o'clock in the morning I was struck by a conical 
 ball in the upper part of the right thigh ; the missile passing 
 between the femoral artery and thigh bone. The wound was 
 painful and dangerous. I had dismounted from my horse, 
 and was on the left of the regiment moving to the front, ahead 
 of the men. 
 
 The 24th hesitated somewhat in the margin of a wood be- 
 fore entering an open field that lay in our immediate front, 
 and directly in view of the enemy's works at the base of the 
 mountain. In order to encourage the men to the charge, I 
 dashed into the open field, sword in hand, raised a cheer, 
 threw up my hands, and fell to the earth pierced through and 
 through with a Confederate bullet. The shot almost paralyzed 
 my whole frame, and it seemed as if some strong woodsman 
 had struck me with a maul. 
 
 General Riley and his surgeon were among the first to sa- 
 lute me after I fell, my regiment having passed to the front in 
 a charge upon the rifle-pits of the enemy. My long cavalry 
 boots soon filled with blood, and it seemed as if I had been shot 
 through the foot ; but when the doctor, pulled off my boot and 
 ripped up my clothing, the wound was soon discovered. A 
 
Hg A CHECKERED Lll-E. 
 
 silk handkerchief was tightly twisted above the bullet-hole, 
 stopping in some measure the flow of blood. 
 
 The battle was still raging, dry leaves caught fire, and sput- 
 tering bullets kept plugging the underbrush and trees that sur- 
 rounded my prostrate form. General Riley remarked, no 
 doubt for my encouragement, that he would give five thousand 
 dollars for my wound, in order to get an honorable leave of 
 absence, and retire from the ragged edge of battle to the lan- 
 guishing, love-lit eyes of his Buckeye belle. The old General 
 was a wag, and between himself, Jack Casement, Daniel Cam- 
 eron, Smith Hurt, John Gill, Wash. Mclntyre and myself, 
 there existed a cordial friendship outside of official rank, which 
 never refused the fried chicken of the farmer, or the more ex- 
 hilarating enthusiasm that gurgled from the mouth of the old 
 canteen. 
 
 Let us drink to our friends who fell ; 
 Be their memoiy fresh and green ; 
 For they served their country well, 
 Like the glorious old canteen ! 
 
 Captain Goodpaster, of Co. "I," was wounded in the face 
 during the battle, and several men of the regiment were hit. 
 Night set in with the Union lines defeated in their designs 
 against the enemy, but there was a general confidence that our 
 desperate onslaught was the stepping-stone to early victory, as 
 was shown in the course of a few days, by Johnston relinquish- 
 ing his grasp on the mountain barrier, and retreating to his 
 strong field-works on the Chattahoochee river, and soon after 
 to the fortified environments of Atlanta. 
 
 The only mistake made by Sherman from Chattanooga to 
 Atlanta was his direct charge and assault on Kenesaw. We 
 lost about three thousand men in three hours, who might 
 have been saved by one of those flank movements so success- 
 ful in previous advances ; but soldiers are paid to fight and be 
 killed. I think the incessant skirmishing, bad roads, tearing 
 underbrush, constant rains and daily retreats of the enemy so 
 worked upon the mind of the General commanding, that when 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. Ir ^ 
 
 he saw a real chance of engaging the Confederates in actual 
 battle, he bluntly determined to fight them at any cost, and 
 moved at once upon their ramparts. It can readily be seen 
 how natural is the impulse to strike a retreating foe, particu- 
 larly when he stands to fight every few miles, only to cover 
 his crumbling lines to a farther base of operations. It is very 
 aggravating to know and feel that you can whip an enemy,, 
 but cannot catch him, and his show and bluster for battle adds 
 recklessness to ambition. 
 
 During the months of May and June, 1864, General Sher- 
 man lost about seventeen thousand men. When the nature 
 of the ground is taken into consideration, and daily advances 
 against a stubborn enemy behind strong field-works, contem- 
 plated in a military light, the aggregate loss is not large, and' 
 the wonder is that twice the number were not lost. 
 
 I laid in a field-hospital the night after the battle, covered 
 by the spreading branches of an oak, and by my side were 
 many other soldiers who received their death-wound that fatal 
 day. The stars shone brighter than I ever saw them before, 
 and while pain tortured my body, my soul was wafted away 
 into the realms of fancy and patriotic contemplation that 
 made me feel, in the event of death, I would die, at least, the 
 heroic death of a soldier, among comrades who had fought 
 and fell in battle. I left my friends in front with regret, to 
 suffer in hospital wards for months, and hobble around on 
 crutches, receiving the attention of doctors and the sympathy 
 of " home-guard " humanity. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BATTLES ABOUT ATLANTA. 
 
 The gallant 24th Kentucky went on towards Atlanta, from 
 victory to victory, participating in the engagements that se- 
 cured that stronghold of rebellion. 
 
 McPherson, Thomas and Schofield kept hammering away at 
 the brazen front of the Confederacy, and day by day the 
 portals of their strength and ambition became weaker. 
 
 General John B. Hood, the fighting school-boy, had been 
 placed in command of the Confederate forces, superseding 
 one of the most cautions, and at the same time the most dar- 
 ing, commanders in the South. 
 
 The Union generals knew that placing Hood in command 
 meant fight. Like Joe Hooker, he would fight ten times a 
 day, and go back the eleventh time to show the foe that he 
 was not afraid to kill his last man. We admire the pluck of 
 such characters, but their judgment is held at a discount. 
 
 On the 22d of July, at Peach Tree Creek, Hood march- 
 ed out in force, and made a desperate attempt to turn the left 
 of McPherson 's army. In fact, he got in the rear of the 
 Union lines, and doubled divisions and brigades upon each 
 other, as if they had been so many reeds in a cane-brake. 
 Seven successive assaults were made upon the Union lines, 
 and seven times repulse came to the foe. Dead and wounded 
 lay in piles in the fields and woods, and thousands of prisoners 
 were taken on each side. 
 
 The first bold and desperate battle of Hood did not meet 
 the expectations of his friends or government. He was com- 
 pelled to crouch back to the narrow precincts of Atlanta, 
 
 120 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 121 
 
 bleeding and dying in his first attempt to retrieve what John- 
 ston had lost. It is true, he made Union ribs crack and loyal 
 hearts shiver at his terrible audacity, convincing every man at 
 the front that a regular Swarrow held the flashing sword of 
 desperate war. 
 
 Gloom and sincere sorrow settled down on the Union camps 
 that July night, and when the evening stars lit up the " bound- 
 less blue," every soldier knew that General McPherson, com- 
 mander of the Army of the Tennessee, was dead. Victory 
 was dearly purchased by payment of such a price. He was 
 the beau ideal of a soldier. Murat, Ney or Kellerman never 
 inspired their men with more sublime daring than the heroic 
 McPherson. His clean-cut form, handsome face and flashing 
 eye can never be forgotten ; and as the years roll away, his 
 memory will grow greener and brighter, and be sung by the 
 descendants of the Army of the Tennessee while that historic 
 
 river runs down to the ocean. 
 
 # * 
 * 
 
 On the 28th, a general movement was made to the rear of 
 Atlanta. Schofield swung around toward East Point to the 
 Macon Railroad near Rough-and -Ready, with Thomas on his 
 right, while General Howard threatened Jonesboro'. On the 
 3ist, the whole army began to tighten its grip about Jones- 
 boro', where Hardee held his corps in stubborn defense. 
 Schofield was the first to strike the railroad, when a general tear- 
 ing up of rails, ties and bridges began. 
 
 The 24th Ky., the advanced skirmishers of Gen. Cox's Di- 
 vision, 23d Army Corps, was the first regiment of Federal 
 troops to strike the railroad near Rough-and-Ready, the blow 
 resulting in the immediate evacuation of Atlanta, and the oc- 
 cupation by the Union army of that most important strong- 
 hold of the rebellion. 
 
 The whole North saw in the victories culminating in the 
 capture of Atlanta, the beginning of the end, and that a few 
 short months would close forever the dying eyes of the Con- 
 federacy. 
 
122 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 General W. T. Sherman was the head and front of the At- 
 lanta campaign. To his great genius, indomitable energy and 
 military knowledge, can be traced the untiring advancement 
 of the army, constant righting, and the glorious success that 
 finally rewarded his heroic achievements. The stream cannot 
 rise higher than its source, neither can an army go beyond the 
 genius of its general. A brave and intelligent commander in 
 the open field with fifty thousand men can whip a hundred 
 thousand good soldiers commanded by a theoretical, hesitat- 
 ing, namby-pamby character. Show me the general, and I'll 
 show you the army. Show me bravery without ripe judgment, 
 and I'll point to defeat ; but the general possessing both has 
 half won the victory before he fights. 
 
 Compliments poured in thick and fast upon General Sher- 
 man and his gallant men after the fall of Atlanta. 
 
 President Abraham Lincoln said : 
 
 " The marches, battles, sieges and other military operations that have 
 signalized the campaign must render it famous in the annals of wai, and 
 entitle those who participated therein to the hearty applause and thanks of 
 the nation." 
 
 General H. W. Halleck said to Sherman : 
 
 "I do not hesitate to say that your campaign has been the most brilliant 
 of the war." 
 
 General Grant, commanding the armies of the United States, 
 said to the hero of Atlanta : 
 
 " I feel that you have accomplished the most gigantic undertaking given 
 to any General in this war, and with a skill and ability that will be ack- 
 nowledged in history." 
 
 Encomiums such as these are rarely given by high authority 
 to subordinate valor, and I am very sure that every officer and 
 soldier in Sherman's command appreciated the justice of the 
 compliments. 
 
 " Pap" Thomas shared in the glory of "Uncle Billy," and 
 Schofield, Howard, Logan, Dodge, Blair, Davis and Cox were 
 delighted in the crowning victory that broke the back-bone 
 of the rebellion, and finally crushed in its ribs, when Sherman 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 12 $ 
 
 marched down to the sea. Gen. Logan was conspicuous in 
 push and dash after the fall of McPherson, and made a record 
 that will live in the golden page of heroes. 
 
 The day after the battle of Kenesaw Mountain I was placed 
 in an ambulance, and taken over a rough road to Big Shanty,. 
 on the railroad, where I was put in a freight car, and sent to 
 Chattanooga with a number of wounded comrades. 
 
 Arriving at Chattanooga, the wounded were taken to the 
 hospital located on Lookout Mountain. I remained on the 
 mountain but two days, during which time my wound became 
 very painful, and mortification began. I was placed again in 
 an ambulance, and taken down to Chattanooga and Nashville. 
 
 As the ambulance driver was turning a prominent point on. 
 Lookout Mountain I got a splendid view of Chattanooga, Mis- 
 sionary Ridge, and the serpentine waters of the Tennessee, 
 meandering through foot-hills and plains below. My heart 
 and imagination went back to that raw November day when 
 Sherman, Hooker, Thomas and Grant moved in massive col- 
 umns upon the stubborn lines of Bragg, strongly fortified upon 
 these bold heights, with the rugged peaks of Lookout on the 
 right, frowning dark and terrible upon the "boys in blue" as 
 they charged up the rocky face of the mountain, with "Fight- 
 ing Joe Hooker," who planted the stars and stripes, carried 
 by heroes from the 8th Kentucky regiment, above the lower- 
 ing clouds. 
 
 The flag was baptised anew in the storm of battle, and when 
 its broad stripes and bright stars caught the evening sunshine 
 breaking through the clouds of Lookout Mountain, a wild pa- 
 triotic cheer went up from the hearts of a hundred thousand 
 men, that echoed and re-echoed among the hills, and floated 
 away in defiance above the roar of battle. 
 
 When I arrived in Nashville my wound was in a very bad 
 condition, the thigh swollen with a dark greenish hue. The 
 surgeons of the old stone college hospital examined the 
 wound minutely, and concluded that it was necessary for my 
 leg to be cut off in order to save my life. When I heard their 
 
124 
 
 A CHECKERED LIPE. 
 
 conclusion I protested, and stated to the old German surgeon 
 in charge that I preferred death to being a permanent cripple, 
 and if he could not cut and burn out the gangrene matter 
 without taking off my leg, he might allow nature and death 
 full swing. 
 
 I was finally placed on a dissecting table, with half a dozen 
 doctors around the board, ready and willing to carve me up 
 with neatness and dispatch. I would not take the chloroform 
 until promised by a young surgeon, named Walker, that my 
 leg should not be cut off. They finally cut into the wound, 
 and found the bone had only been splintered, and the nerves 
 and muscles but lacerated. After two hours I woke up, and 
 found myself lying on a cot in ward " A," among a number of 
 wounded officers, and strange to say, out of ten in the room, 
 eight belonged to the staff of the army. For about a month 
 I suffered great pain. I was then transported to Louisville, 
 and admitted to the officers' hospital, superintended by Doc- 
 tor Brady, a gentleman of fine ability and great kindness of 
 heart. 
 
 During the entire month of September, 1864, I remained in 
 the hospital, and towards the early days of October, I began to 
 recuperate my strength, feeling well enough to walk about the 
 hall and wards on crutches. 
 
 About the last of October I was discharged from the hospi- 
 tal, and went to Lexington, Kentucky, to perform convales- 
 cent duty on the staff of General N. C. McLean, to enable me 
 to receive further treatment for my gun-shot wound. I re- 
 mained but a short time in this position, assisting Adjutant- 
 General J. S. Butler in the performance of his official duty. 
 
 I was recovering my strength very fast, and as I had been 
 absent from the 24th more than four months, I began to think 
 of leaving the service to give some ambitious officer of any 
 regiment a chance for promotion. While in this state of un- 
 certainty, the following order was received from the War De- 
 partment, which resolved my doubts and promptly settled my 
 anxieties : 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 125 
 
 War Department, Adjutant General's Office, 
 
 Washington, D. C., Nov. 4th, 1864. 
 SPECIAL ORDER, \ 
 
 No. 383. J " Extract." 
 
 The following officers are hereby honorably discharged from the service 
 of the United States, on account of physical disability from wounds received 
 in action, with condition that they shall receive no final payment until they 
 have satisfied the Pay Department that they are not indebted to the Gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 ist Lieut. John A. Joyce, Adjutant 24th Kentucky Infantry Volunteers. 
 By order of the Secretary of War. 
 
 E. D. TOWNSEND, 
 
 Assistant Adjutant General. 
 
 I had no financial complications or indebtedness with the 
 Government, and Paymaster A. Diven, at Louisville, paid my 
 back dues on the 25th of November, 1864, when I left the ser- 
 vice of the United States with an honorable record. 
 
 While in Louisville I became personally acquainted with 
 Gov. Thomas E. Bramblette, who was organizing some new 
 regiments to take the field, and wished to commission me. 
 I had previously secured some recommendations for the posi- 
 tion of Colonel of one of these new regiments, and as an evi- 
 dence of the opinion of my superior officers and kind friends, 
 submit the following extracts. 
 
 Gen. Daniel Cameron, commanding the 3d Division, 23d 
 Army Corps, says to Gov. Bramblette : 
 
 " I beg respectfully to address you in relation to Lieut. Joyce, Adjutant 
 24th Ky . Infantry. He has been for some months past under my command , 
 and I have had many opportunities of observing his efficiency as an officer. 
 I consider him a young officer of great merit, well worthy of promotion. He 
 is brave, energetic and capable, has had much experience, and on all occa- 
 sions has acquitted himself to the entire satisfaction of his superiors. 
 
 In bringing his claims before your Excellency, I feel that I am but doing 
 justice to Lieut. Joyce, while I am at the same time promoting the interests 
 of one who is an honor to his state and to the service." 
 
 Gen. Milo S. Hascall, commanding the 2d Division 23d 
 Army Corps, says to the Governor : 
 
 " It affords me great pleasure to recommend to your favorable consider- 
 ation, for promotion, ist Lieut, and Adjutant John A. Joyce, 24th Reg't Ky. 
 
1 2 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 V. I. He has been in my command for some time, and I have had oppor- 
 tunities on several occasions to notice his great bravery and efficiency as an 
 officer. He is now absent from his regiment, suffering from a severe wound. 
 The term of service of his regiment has about expired. Anything you can 
 do for him will be considered a great favor." 
 
 Gen. J. D. Cox, commanding the 23d Army Corps, says in 
 his endorsement : 
 
 " I take pleasure in adding to the within testimonial the statement that 
 Lieut. Joyce distinguished himself in the early part of the Atlanta campaign, 
 at Kenesaw Mountain, where he was wounded, and has since been off duty 
 in consequence. I cordially endorse the statement of General Cameron as 
 to his efficiency and good qualities as an officer, and recommend that Lieut. 
 Joyce's services be recognized by the state of Kentucky in some fitting 
 manner." 
 
 Major-Gen. S. G. Burbridge, commanding the district of 
 Kentucky, says : 
 
 " It gives me pleasure to endorse Lieut. Joyce, Adjutant 24th Ky., for 
 any position in the gift of the Governor. He is anxious to enter the service 
 again, as Colonel of one of the new regiments, and if you can accommo- 
 date him, it will be a favor conferred upon a young man who has nobly 
 served his country, and bears the wounds of battle upon his person." 
 
 The Board of Military Enrollment for the Fifth Congres- 
 sional District of Kentucky, composed of Murch, Hervey and 
 Dr. T. S. Bell, say : 
 
 " We cordially urge the strong claims of Adjutant Joyce as a faithful so.- 
 dier and excellent and worthy officer, who has been crippled in the military 
 service, and is a young man of fine capacity. He is worthy of any favor 
 that can be conferred upon him." 
 
 Dr. J. Gardner, Assistant Surgeon of the Board, says : 
 " I have personally served with Adjutant Joyce, and do not know any 
 person who deserves more favor than he does." 
 
 Hon. James Speed, the most distinguished lawyer in Ken- 
 tucky, and Attorney-General under President Lincoln, says : 
 " I trust that the place desired will be given to Mr. Joyce." 
 
 Col Hurt, of the 24th, gave me a very complimentary letter 
 to Governor Bramblette, wherein he praised my capacity and 
 bravery, and remarked that I was well fitted for the position 
 of a Field Officer. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 127 
 
 The term of the 24th was so nearly completed that I hesi- 
 tated about going back to the regiment, but had an ambition 
 to continue in the military service, where daring action might 
 throw about me " the perfume of heroic deeds." 
 
 When the goal of my ambition was about to be reached, I 
 discovered that my wound was too tender to allow me to take 
 the field on horseback, and therefore was compelled to relin- 
 quish the fond hopes I had cherished, and bid farewell to the 
 fascinations of military life. 
 
 About the last of December, 1864, I visited the 24th Ky., 
 camped at Covington, awaiting final muster out. The regi- 
 ment had come up from Atlanta, spent a few days at Mt. Ster- 
 ling, proceeding from there to Covington, where final disposi- 
 tion could be made of men and material. The old regiment 
 had been greatly depleted, and many of the boys who enlisted 
 with me in the early days of war were sleeping their last sleep 
 on the sunny slopes of Tennessee, Alabama and Georgia, or 
 limping their weary way to the tomb amid the hills and vales 
 of their mountain homes. 
 
 I remained at the Burnet House about a week, being cheered 
 in the evening by Hurt, North, Nelson, Gill and Mclntyre, 
 who came from the regiment to pass a few hours of pleasure 
 among the delicious allurements of the Queen City. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LEAVING THE ARMY. EXPERIENCE AS A. SCHOOL-TEACHER. 
 
 On the ist of January I bid good-bye to the old 24th, never 
 again to mingle with it in the rush of battle, or join in its 
 cheer of victory. Mountain, valley, stream, camp and battle- 
 field were left behind to my comrades who fell in the roaring 
 fray ; and while the birds sang as sweetly, the rivers ran as 
 freely, and the flowers bloomed as brightly, they would never 
 again awaken heroic melodies in the hearts of those daring 
 warriors who went down in the shock and crash of battle. 
 
 To comrades who have survived the pangs of hospital treat- 
 ment and the shock of war, I send forth greeting, and say that 
 while life lingers we cannot forget the glory and renown of the 
 old 24th, whose flag rose triumphant on many a battle-field, 
 and whose record for daring deeds may be equaled but can- 
 not be surpassed by any regiment that served the government. 
 
 The 24th Kentucky was organized in the very face of treason. 
 It defied relatives and friends for the sake of the Union, fought 
 in front when loved ones at home were being destroyed by the 
 enemy, skirmished on the advanced dead-lines of brigades, 
 divisions and corps as an entering wedge to victory, marched 
 by road, rail and boat more miles than any other regiment in 
 the service, and at last furled forever the torn and blood-stained 
 flag to rest with the archives of a state saved to the Union by 
 its valor. 
 
 To every soldier in every land, and in every good cause, I 
 extend a heart and hand, whether or not we kneel at the same 
 altar or worship the same God. 
 
 128 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 129 
 
 Fame, like the soul, is immortal. 
 
 " The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years ; 
 But thou shall flourish in immortal youth, 
 Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
 The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds." 
 
 The unsettled state of society in my old Kentucky home 
 induced me to accept an invitation to visit an uncle who lived 
 in Allamakee county, Iowa. 
 
 The .winter of 1865 was very severe in the North-west. A 
 few quite frigid days among the rugged, snow-capped hills of 
 Allamakcc made me wish for the warm rays of the sunny South, 
 and the genial smiles of those dear army-friends I left behind. 
 I was about to leave the Hawkeye State in disgust at the cold 
 reception nature extended, when my uncle and family suggested 
 that I should procure a country school, and turn my mind away 
 from brooding over the past. 
 
 SCHOOL-TEACHER. 
 
 1 concluded to make application for a school located at 
 Paint-Rock Church, overlooking the waters of the Mississippi 
 River, and within a mile of Harper's Ferry, a small town in 
 the southeastern part of the county. 
 
 The trustee of the school, Barry, was willing that I should 
 enter upon the duties of teacher at once, but a certificate must 
 first be procured from the county superintendent, whose office 
 was located at Waukon, the county seat, fifteen miles away. 
 I easily procured the needed certificate. 
 
 Being now armed with official authority, I presented myself 
 at the new stone school-house one blue Monday morning in 
 January, 1865, and began the role of a country pedagogue. 
 
 Arriving early in the morning from Harper's Ferry, I un- 
 locked the establishment, and found nothing but cheerless 
 walls, damp and musty. A few benches were scattered about 
 the room, and a pine desk was stuck in one corner to accom- 
 modate the presiding autocrat. An old Franklin stove, that 
 
 9 
 
I 3 o -/ CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 might have warmed its namesake in the Revolutionary War, 
 opened its broad jaws for the reception of fuel. The wood- 
 pile outside was unchopped. As some of the " big boys" 
 gathered in, I advised them to procure an axe from one of the 
 neighbors, and split enough wood to dispel the cold and frost 
 that had settled on the stone wall, and even fringed the " Old 
 Franklin " with fantastic embellishments. After digging about 
 in three feet of snow that surronnded the wood-pile and school- 
 house, we finally fished out enough to make a roaring fire, and 
 warm the shivering children that vied with each other in scorch- 
 ing their clothes in an effort to straddle the stove. 
 
 When nine o'clock arrived I rang the bell with the air of a 
 sucessful auctioneer ; keeping a stern face, that would have 
 done great credit to a philosopher of sixty, much more to a 
 youth of twenty-two, who had just launched out as an educator. 
 
 When silence prevailed I rose at the desk, and addressed the 
 seventy-five scholars who came from the snow-clad farms of 
 Allamakee. 
 
 I merely said that I had been employed by the trustees to 
 teach the school for a period of six months, and hoped that the 
 boys would behave like gentlemen, and the girls act like ladies. 
 In conclusion, I had only to lay down the simple rule that 
 when they did right I should reward them, and when they did 
 wrong I should certainly punish them. 
 
 These remarks were taken by the younger children with hu- 
 mility, but a few of the larger boys winked at each other, as 
 much as to say, " That's an old gag, that can't frighten scholars 
 who have ducked bigger teachers than you are. It might be 
 well to give that speech to the ' marines,' but for the stalwart 
 sons of Erin living among the grubs of Allamakee it will not 
 do; the colors of your eloquence will not wash !" Notwith- 
 standing this imagined reply to my first and last effort as a 
 teacher, I proceeded at once to bring order out of chaos, and 
 class the school. 
 
 The third day of my mission brought about a free fight 
 among the scholars during my absence at dinner. When school 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. ! 3 i 
 
 was called, I proceeded to ascertain the cause of the row. 
 It seems that a son of Erin and a waif from the Fatherland 
 disputed about the honor and bravery of their respective ances- 
 tors, and the other scholars joined in the fight, with a clannish 
 spirit that would have been an honor to the bogs of Ireland 
 or the upland slopes of Scotland. After due investigation, I 
 implicated only seventeen boys and girls in the fight, sending 
 the residue of my institution to their seats and books. When 
 all was ready, I went to business with a fine hickory ruler that 
 had been provided in anticipation of just such troubles. The 
 smaller scholars took their light punishment with suppressed 
 sobs, and went to their benches with sulks. The leader of the 
 riot was the only one who attempted to resist, and treat my 
 proposal to whip him with contempt. I reasoned with the 
 stalwart Hibernian, impressing upon him his violation of school 
 rules, and my intention to have equality of punishment. He 
 finally squared off, swore with the swagger of a prize-fighter, but 
 ere he could execute his threat I hit him with the rule just un- 
 der the ear, and sent him to the floor in a shiver of pain. A 
 dipper of water brought him to, in tears, when I finished his 
 punishment by additional blows on his hands, sending him to 
 his seat as if nothing had occurred to disturb the equanimity 
 of the school. 
 
 From that day to the close of my term in June I was boss 
 of the institution, and had no further occasion to punish any 
 of the scholars. When the examination and exhibition closed 
 on the last day, scholars, parents and friends left me with 
 thanks, praise and tears ; and many of my dear old pupils will 
 remember to this day the pleasant hours and loving chats we 
 had under the noon-day shade of Paint-Rock Church, and the 
 delightful strolls we took among those rugged hills and bloom- 
 ing vales. 
 
 My experience as a village schoolmaster will long be re- 
 membered ; and the beautiful site of the school, church and 
 graveyard was all that the most romantic heart could require. 
 Situated on a high hill, overlooking the rolling plains to the 
 
l $ 2 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 west, and commanding a view to the south and east, with the 
 waters of the Mississippi sweeping along to the sea, it was no 
 wonder that my young heart swelled with emotion when con- 
 templating the beauty of the landscape. How often hdve I 
 lingered in the tangled walks of the old church-yard, under 
 a spreading oak, and gazed in rapture at the golden glory of 
 the setting sun, as the storm-crouds in the west swept across 
 the cardinal colors of the day. My pathway through woods 
 and fields was made radiant with boys and girls. Sleigh- rides, 
 parties and occasional balls at Harper's Ferry, intervened to 
 banish the monotony of country life, and while I kept the face 
 of a stern philosopher in the school-room, I acted with all the 
 vanity and freedom of a drum-major in the ball-room. 
 
 Spelling-matches at the country schools were occasions for 
 fun, and opportunities for the belles and beaux to indulge in 
 the never-ceasingeccentricities of Cupid, who shoots his arrows 
 where least expected, inflicting wounds that never heal, and ro- 
 mantic pangs that never die. 
 
 My patrons and scholars insisted that I should give a spell- 
 ing-match at the old school-house, and as I was always ready 
 and willing to indulge the love of sociability, I readily con- 
 sented to the proposition. The evening arrived, and with it 
 came more than a hundred of the neighbors and their children, 
 anxious to battle for the mastery in spelling ; after which, 
 dancing was indulged in to the great satisfaction of all present. 
 
 A match was soon arranged by two rural beauties, who 
 tossed up for the first choice of spellers. I was chosen by one 
 of the contestants, and so it went on to the end of the pro- 
 gramme, when two lines of warlike intellects stood facing each 
 other for battle. The person who missed stepped down and 
 out, and the one that remained on the floor to the last carried 
 off the prize, and became the noted champion of the evening. 
 After the first round, a simple word was given to me by the 
 umpire, and ludicrous to relate, I went down by the first shot, 
 retiring to one of the benches amid the laughter of the whole 
 audience. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. ! 33 
 
 A beautiful young girl of fifteen carried off the prize, receiv- 
 ing the encomiums of the whole house for her remarkable 
 memory and precise information. I know it is inexcusable for 
 a man of education to be a bad speller ; but, even to this day, 
 I am liable to insult the memory of Noah Webster, and even 
 rattle the bones of Lindley Murray in violating his rule that a 
 verb must agree with its nominative in number, person and case. 
 
 The schoolmaster is a wonderful man among yeomanry, and 
 the greatness of Goldsmith's pedagogue may well illustrate his 
 rural renown : 
 
 " The village all declared how much he knew, 
 'Twas certain he could write and cipher too; 
 Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, 
 And even the story ran that he could gauge; 
 In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill, 
 For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still; 
 While words of learned length and thundering sound 
 Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; 
 And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew 
 That one small head should carry all he knew." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 TAX-COLLECTOR AND CANDIDATE FOR LEGISLATURE. 
 
 At the conclusion of my school I went to Lansing, and 
 through the instrumentality of the county treasurer, a shrewd 
 and pleasant gentleman, was employed to collect delinquent 
 taxes, long due by the rustic citizens of Franklin and Linton 
 townships. With the necessary books and a commission as 
 deputy collector, I took up my headquarters at the village of 
 Volney, and advertised that I was ready and willing to collect 
 delinquent taxes. I waited for my pronunciamento to take 
 effect, but as the good people did not rush frantically from the 
 hills and valleys in response to my call, I concluded to go to 
 the mountain, since the mountain would not come to me. 
 
 The life of a delinquent tax-collector is not a happy one 
 particularly where the ground has been worked over for ten 
 years by ambitious deputies. The doctor is looked upon with 
 fear and anxiety by his patient ; the lawyer is tolerated with 
 hope and suspicion by his client ; the undertaker comes with a 
 melancholy face to perform the last sad duty for mankind ; but 
 the delinquent tax collector is looked upon in his official capac- 
 ity as a combination of all the horrors a pest to be avoided 
 and a nuisance to be abated. 
 
 I spent the month of July, 1865, among the hills of Yellow 
 River, coaxing and threatening the good people with penalties 
 unless they paid the real and personal taxes demanded in the 
 name of the Hawk-eye State, and was unusually successful in 
 securing the payment of taxes that had slumbered for many 
 years. I shall never forget the bold move I made on an old 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 '35 
 
 Irish bachelor who lived like an anchorite on a forty-acre farm 
 perched on a rugged height overlooking Yellow River. He 
 owed the state of Iowa about fifty dollars, but had for more 
 than ten years evaded every tax-collector who came to the 
 neighborhood. They could never find him at home when en- 
 deavoring to give the notice of levy, and although the deputies 
 often climbed the bluffs in pursuit of the delinquent, they never 
 succeeded in getting the taxes. 
 
 Duly armed with my legal documents and an army " pepper- 
 box," I started away one bright morning through the crooked 
 defiles leading out from Volney, and began to climb the heights 
 reaching to the lands of the fierce old bachelor. I imagined 
 myself for awhile in the highlands of Scotland or among the 
 heather mountains of Ireland, in search of some bold outlaws 
 who worked the secrets of the still. While thus musing, in 
 contemplation wild, I beheld a curl of smoke rising out of a 
 clump of trees, and saw a yoke of oxen grazing near a corn- 
 field in the vicinity of the old bachelor's cabin. I let down 
 a pair of bars, turned the cattle into the corn-field, and awaited 
 developments. The joy of the cattle was great while crunch- 
 ing the young corn, and all went merry as a marriage-bell until 
 the old bachelor rushed from his cabin, bare headed and yell- 
 ing like a trooper at the oxen. The thought of saving his 
 crop made him oblivious of my presence. As he rushed by 
 me in his flight after the cattle, I cried, " Halt ! " He looked 
 at me with a gaze of astonishment, showing all the rage of a 
 trapped lion. I at once made known my business, and with 
 the legal documents in one hand and a revolver in the other, 
 served due notice on the delinquent, levied on his yoke of 
 oxen to satisfy the debt, and thus, with the air of a victorious 
 general, maintained the majesty of the law and sustained the 
 honor of Iowa, while threatening to blow off the head-piece 
 of the citizen if he dared to decline my demand or interfere 
 with me in the execution of my office. 
 
 When he realized the trap he had fallen into, and saw me 
 drive off his cattle, he immediately sued for quarter ; and be- 
 
I3 6 A CHECKERED LlfiE. 
 
 fore I got back to Volney he had caught up with me and ten- 
 tered the taxes with all penalties and costs attached. I gave 
 the old fellow his receipt in full, released the oxen, shook his 
 hand, bade him be virtuous and consequently happy ; and I 
 have no doubt but that the lesson he received gave him greater 
 respect for human laws, and a wise discrimination to know that 
 a legal document, backed up by a pistol, is not to be ignored. 
 My duties as a tax-gatherer soon ceased, and after deducting 
 my per cent., I turned in the balance to the treasurer of Alla- 
 
 makee county. 
 
 * * 
 
 I had often heard that it was sweet to die for one's country ; 
 and as my soul was filled with hope and poetry, I concluded 
 to cast my drag-net into the Republican county convention 
 that assembled at Waukon on the igih of August, 1865. 
 
 After a laborious campaign among the primary caucuses, 
 making all the promises incident to the canvass of a congress- 
 man, assuring the honest voters that they were the salt of the 
 earth, and I but the humble instrument to wait for and record 
 their will, the convention met, and I received a unanimous 
 vote as candidate for the legislature. As this high honor came 
 unsought (?) to a young man of twenty-two who had lived in 
 the county scarcely a year, I could do nothing else but accept 
 in a modest (?) speech, expressing the usual surprise, and inform- 
 ing the convention of my unworthiness ; then soaring aloft in 
 the realms of native eloquence, I pledged undying love to the 
 principles of the Republican party, and proposed to bear onward 
 the standard of freedom until the election sunset of October 
 shone pure and bright upon the victorious folds of the star- 
 spangled banner planted upon the crumbling ramparts of dem- 
 ocracy ! 
 
 I made a joint canvass with the democratic nominee, who 
 was more than fifty years of age an old stager who could 
 change his political opinions with as much ease and facility as 
 a diver changes his suit. I talked to the county statesmen 
 with the air of a Bolingbroke or Pitt, and imagined, until the 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 137 
 
 votes were counted, that Jefferson, Lincoln and Douglas were 
 poor sticks in comparison with my growing greatness and the 
 glorious renown that awaited me in the halls of legislation at 
 Des Moines. I made a speech in every township in Allamakee 
 county, and had bills posted up at stores and cross-roads, in 
 advance of my coming. 
 
 It was during the campaign of 1865, at Waukon, that I first 
 met Hon. William B. Allison on his congressional tour through 
 the third district of Iowa. A joint discussion was in progress 
 at the court-house, when we consented to divide time with 
 the Congressman, and give him a chance to enlighten the citi- 
 zens of Iowa regarding the propriety of striking the word 
 " white " out of its constitution, thereby admitting to the bal- 
 lot-box all male citizens twenty-one years of age, irrespective 
 of color or previous condition of servitude. Mr. Allison con- 
 sumed about an hour in the delivery of his speech, which was 
 logical and sound. 
 
 My opponent, Paulk, followed the congressman in a very 
 good speech from his stand-point. The old gentleman ignored 
 my presence altogether. I arose to close the debate, and 
 launched in with the fire and audacity of youth, belaboring the 
 stay-at-home, peace-at-any-price crowd. 
 
 The day after the vote was announced, having lost all my 
 enthusiasm in the election, I embarked on the fine steamer 
 Gray Eagle at Lansing, and proceeded to the city of Dubuque. 
 Standing on the hurricane deck of the steamer as she swept 
 away from the wharf, and rounded toward the bald bluff of 
 South Lansing, I breathed a sigh of regret at leaving relatives, 
 pupils and friends, where youth and love had mingled in the 
 scene, and confidence and ambition cast a glow of supreme 
 happiness through the halls of memory. Some very dear friends 
 are yet living in Iowa, who may call to mind the scenes I have 
 depicted ; and, perhaps, in the evening twilight, when the walk- 
 ing shadows of night climb the river bluffs, they may recount 
 to their children and friends the romantic career of a country 
 pedagogue and would-be legislator. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 STUDYING LAW IN DUBUQUE. 
 
 Arriving in Dubuque, I called at the law office of Mr. Alli- 
 son, the Congressman I met in the late canvass. I told him 
 of my desire to continue the study of law, which had been in- 
 terrupted by the war. He at once secured me a clerkship in 
 the office of Hon. Henry A. Wiltz, the United States surveyor- 
 general for Iowa and Wisconsin, at the same time tendering the 
 use of his books and office. 
 
 I spent the winter of 1866 and the summer and fall of the 
 same year in diligent study of the law, pondering on the wis- 
 dom of Blackstone, Chitty, Kent, Parsons and Greenleaf, with 
 all the enthusiasm of youth and ambition ; receiving my license 
 to practice as an attorney in the courts of Iowa, on the nth 
 of November. 
 
 The memories that cluster about Dubuque can never be for- 
 gotten, and the friends that assisted me in the old Julian build- 
 ing in the study of law present themselves to-day in the form 
 and appearance of yesterday. 
 
 Mr. George Crane and Captain T. Palmer Rood were the 
 law partners of Mr. Allison, and while he was mostly engrossed 
 in political calculations, they attended strictly to the details and 
 work of an important law firm. Mr. Crane was a man of fine 
 judgment, and had the entire confidence of his clients, and the 
 respect of the bar, which numbered some of the best lawyers in 
 Iowa, such as Bissell, Shiras, Adams, Mtilkern, Samuels, Knight, 
 Wilson, Cram, Henderson, Cooley, O'Donnell and a rare 
 genius named Charles McKenzie. 
 
 138 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Captain T. Palmer Rood, the junior member of the firm, was 
 my daily and nightly companion ; and often in the lonely mid- 
 night hours, when lessons had been recited, he would talk of 
 love and friends in the Empire State, and wind up our mutual 
 joy by throwing his soul into his magic flute, in a symphony 
 from Beethoven, a trill from the mocking bird or a warbling 
 note from the matchless air of " Home, Sweet Home," while I 
 joined in the sweet words of John Howard Payne : 
 
 " An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain, 
 Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again." 
 
 These sentiments would often take possession of Rood's- 
 mind, and on the airy wings of fancy he wandered back to the 
 home of his childhood, and lived again in the love of his first 
 conquest. Philosophic conversations were frequently indulged 
 in birth, life and death claiming our consideration. Ire- 
 member well a conversation we had upon the reason and justice 
 of suicide ; he taking the ground that a man had the right to 
 destroy himself because God gave him the power to do it. It 
 was hard to combat this logic, bu,t I appealed to his honor and 
 bravery, arguing that it was nobler to live and battle with a 
 frowning world than take a leap in the dark and blot out the 
 ills that flesh is heir to. I insisted that no man in his sane 
 mind could commit suicide, for the inherent principle of self- 
 preservation revolted at the thought ; while he felt satisfied 
 that a troubled, but sound, mind could take nature by the 
 throat, and end the horrid phantoms that came like brooding 
 shadows. 
 
 Rood was of a rather melancholy and sensitive nature, and 
 the very soul of honor in his dealings with the world. He was 
 neat in dress, choice in his associates, and bore some secret 
 sorrow that I could not fathom. I introduced him to a beau- 
 tiful and accomplished young lady, who afterwards became his 
 wife, and bore him a fine son. 
 
 I left Dubuqtie in November, 1866, for Washington city, and 
 although our lines were cast in different places, we kept up a- 
 
1 40 
 
 A CHECKERED 
 
 friendly correspondence until he committed suicide on the 
 closing night of December, 1879, when his sensitive and poetic 
 spirit took flight into the new year. 
 
 The night of his suicide he left his home for a festival among 
 his friends, kissed his wife and boy a last good-bye, departed 
 with seeming gladness for the halls of revelry, dressed in fault- 
 less style, without a known cause to ruffle the equanimity of 
 his soul ; and in the morning sunshine anxious friends found 
 him dead in his law-office, propped back in an arm-chair, the 
 victim of chloroform administered by his own hand. 
 
 On the outside of his locked door the searchers found a card 
 bearing this laconic announcement : " Gone Rood !" On the 
 desk, near his chair, the following pathetic note to his wife 
 and boy were found as testimony of the tortured brain that 
 could act no longer, or battle with the disappointments and 
 rude tempests the world inflicted : 
 
 ANGIE AND WILLIE. 
 
 DUBUQUE, IOWA, Dec. 31, 1879. 
 Dear Angie, Dear Willie : 
 
 Oh ! how I have suffered in my head. I am going 
 to rest to-morrow ! 
 
 Your affectionate husband and father. 
 
 Who can ever know the pangs of melancholy, regret, re- 
 morse and desperation that welled up in the troubled soul that 
 penned these dying lines ? Who can appreciate the sleepless 
 nights and lingering, lonely hours that poor Rood battled with 
 in fighting the temptations of suicide, or the demon of insanity ! 
 
 About a year before his death I received a long letter, from 
 which I extract the following asseverations of friendship : 
 
 " I am right glad to hear from you and yours; for the 
 years, though many, and vicissitudes, though rough and various, 
 have greatly separated 1866 and 1878 in the toils, cares and 
 interests of life, still an ever vivid recollection of the days 
 that will never return, and pleasures that have no duplicates, 
 furnish an impetus and desire for the continuance of our friend- 
 ship. Colonel Henderson pictures your surroundings as pleas- 
 ant and delightful. I would like to make proof of it, by step- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 141 
 
 ping in upon you, and chatting about old friends and sweet 
 memories, that may be varnished over by departed years, but 
 cannot be eradicated from the heart that feels, and the soul 
 that communes with truth, love and ambition ! Angie sends 
 her kindest regards to you and Mrs. Joyce, as also Willie, who 
 remembers you with pleasure ; and often in the twilight I take 
 up the beautiful flute you gave me, and play some of the airs 
 we loved so well in the long ago. Now, John, write me a long 
 letter in reply to this, and throw into your words and ideas the 
 beauty and romance that cheered my melancholy hours in the 
 old Julian building, when we 
 
 ' Dipt into the future 
 Far as human eye could see.' " 
 
 Poor fellow ! I wonder if he could see the sad termination 
 of his earthly career when we talked to empty benches in the 
 Julian Theatre, preparatory to taking the stump in a Congres- 
 sional canvass. 
 
 I could linger for days in calling up reminiscences of my ca- 
 reer in Dubuque, floating on the river, exploring among the 
 lead mines, strolling over the rugged bluffs in search of wild 
 flowers, rattling away to the five-mile house in moonlight 
 hours, or making my first New Year calls to the homes of hos- 
 pitable citizens, whose pretty houses were perched on the steep 
 hillsides like swallows' nests in overhanging cliffs. Many of 
 those I knew and loved in 1866 have passed into the dark 
 shadows of eternity, and slumber forever on the upland slopes 
 of the Hawkeye State. 
 
 Yet memory, with her magic ringers, 
 Will turn with hope where joy still lingers, 
 And bless the friends beneath the sod, 
 Who loved us here, then went to God. 
 
 After receiving license to practice law, I felt like the humble 
 Oriental who had been presented with a white elephant ; and 
 whether to "go West" or go East with my license and am- 
 bition, was a problem more intricate than the solution of one 
 in Euclid. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WASHINGTON CITY AND ITS PEOPLE. 
 
 One cool, bright morning in November, 1866, I knocked at 
 the door of Hon. Wm. B. Allison, located in the historic 
 chambers of Willard's Hotel. The congressman bade me en- 
 ter, and while a look of surprise shot across his face, he greeted 
 me with the old smile, and from his large gray eyes beamed 
 that magnetic fire that never failed to beget confidence, or se- 
 cure the friendship of the man he trusted. I told him I came 
 East for the purpose of spending a few winter months in Wash- 
 ington, and while here would be pleased to secure a clerkship ; 
 .and that when spring with its sun and flowers decorated the 
 earth I should go to the boundless West, and grow up with the 
 country ! 
 
 He laughed at my proposal, shook his head in seeming sor- 
 row, making the remark that if he had a son, he " would 
 rather see him a blacksmith, farmer, or hod-carrier in the West, 
 than have him bury his independence and manhood in the red 
 tape pigeon-holes of Washington." He said no more, but the 
 next morning went with me to the office of Hon. A. E. Rol- 
 lins, Commissioner of Internal Revenue. I was introduced in 
 a meaning way. There were " no vacancies," of course, but I 
 was examined by a civil service board, with Wm. E. Chandler, 
 Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, as chief, and ere I knew 
 what had occurred, I received the appointment of a first-class 
 clerkship. 
 
 I was duly assigned to the " law division" of the Internal 
 Revenue Office, presided over by a sensitive and elegant gen- 
 .tleman from the hills of New England. The division con- 
 
 142 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. I43 
 
 tained about a dozen men. each one having such work as his 
 presumed capacity commanded. All frauds against the rev- 
 enue were sent to our room for settlement. Compromise cases 
 were chief subjects for consideration, and the letters of agents, 
 assessors, collectors and district attorneys touching this branch 
 of business consumed the time of the clerks, in their import- 
 ant duty of solving the innocence or guilt of a taxpayer who 
 had failed to retuin the legacy and succession tax of his grand-- 
 mother, cancel the check-stamp of his uncle, the cigar and 
 beer-stamp of his neighbor, and the terrible whiskey-stamps of 
 rectifier and distiller. 
 
 When I entered the division, the chief and subordinates 
 looked upon me with dignity and suspicion ; dignity, because 
 of their unapproachable learning and information ; and sus- 
 picion, because I might come in the way of the next promo- 
 tion. My capacity was at once gauged with unerring judg- 
 ment; and, in company with another clerk, I was instructed in 
 detail in briefing the contents of letters received, and ruling 
 straight, red, parallel lines under the names of country officials. 
 I continued in this business for more than three weeks, until a 
 slight attack of brain fever set in, superinduced by the hercu- 
 lean duty performed in the realms of red tape and red lines ! 
 I spoke to the chief one evening after office hours, and asked 
 him if he could not find another assistant to relieve my excru- 
 ciating labor. 
 
 A clerk in a government office is perfectly happy if he can 
 find some other clerk to boss, but the poor devil stretched out 
 as the mudsill of the official bridge is indeed a miserable 
 creature, unless he can occasionally get a kick at a messenger, 
 or scrub-woman. Of all the petty tyrants I ever knew, the 
 domineering, egotistical, clerical jackass who happens to be 
 " clothed with a little brief authority," exceeds the whole tribe 
 of reprobates. 
 
 The chief gave me a bundle of papers every morning to di- 
 gest and write an opinion upon, no doubt to test my qualifi- 
 cations as a reasoner, lawyer and philosopher. I ripped into 
 
144 
 
 A CHECKERED LIfiE. 
 
 the official pile like a crosscut saw through a five-foot log, 
 extricating from the debris of straddle revenue, opinions, rec- 
 ommendations and conclusions in the premises. When com- 
 pleted, I laid the letter, with my initials at the bottom, before 
 the head of my section, who pondered over it with the air of 
 a sage, cut out about half, and returned it for correction. I 
 put the original letter aside, wrote as the great man of the sec- 
 tion dictated, and placed it on his desk, receiving his initials 
 on the left hand upper corner, then with the pride of an 
 American Polyglot shot the letter under the eyeglass of the 
 division chief, who read it carefully, crossed out two-thirds, 
 and ordered me to write out in shape what was left. I put 
 that letter in my desk, wrote a new one, and in due course 
 presented a non-committal letter to the section and division 
 chiefs for signature, and carried the precious document down 
 stairs to the commissioner. He gazed in an absent kind of 
 way at the letter, and then, as if a magical thought struck him 
 between the diaphragm and the brain, he slashed out three- 
 fourths of it, and ordered me to correct, and bring it to him 
 instantly. I did this with an injured air. By the time all the 
 initials and signature of the commissioner were attached to the 
 document, there was scarcely a word of my original composi- 
 tion remaining. I felt like a subdued sheep, and was willing 
 to be slaughtered ever after by any official butcher that came 
 along. I immediately fell into the rut of official imbecility, 
 and never afterwards indulged in an idea that had not been 
 patented at least a hundred years. I sneezed when the section - 
 head took snuff, laughed when the division-head told an an- 
 cient story, and fairly split my sides when the commissioner 
 bade me good-day. 
 
 I soon found that promotion did not always go by merit, and 
 that a polished, daring clerk, with live political backing, was 
 sure to be advanced, while his desk companion of genius and 
 learning would die unnoticed upon the stem of virgin modesty. 
 
 The chief clerk of an office is a great man, in his own esti- 
 mation, and struts about with the air of a Spanish hidalgo, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 145 
 
 waiving off his subordinates with a curt reply, or with an im- 
 perial sweep of his strong right arm. He would not exchange 
 place with the king of Siam, or deign to compete in dignity with 
 the sultan of Turkey. The Secretary of the Department and 
 Head of the Bureau may occasionally unbend from austere 
 official labor, but the importance and dignity of the chief clerk 
 remain stern and unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Per- 
 sians. While his personal and political influence lasts, he is 
 lord of the official realm ; but when the lightning of dismissal 
 strikes his devoted head, you behold him, after many years of 
 service and tyranny, walking Pennsylvania Avenue as a second- 
 class tramp, eking out a precarious existence among the holes 
 and by-lanes of the city. 
 
 Clerks average twenty or thirty years in the tread-mill of 
 Department life, starting in with bright faces, cheerful hearts, 
 and a laudable ambition to perform faithful work, save some 
 money for a rainy day, marry the girl of their choice and 
 move to the boundless West, where strong hands and brave 
 hearts never fail to carve out a name, fortune and place. But, 
 alas for human calculations, they are stuck in a seven by nine 
 pigeon-hole, tramp the daily tread-mill with their fellows, join 
 the Masons or the Johnidab lodge, live at one of the numerous 
 boarding houses of the city, meet some beautiful and innocent 
 female clerk, cream her, wine her, theatre her, boat her down 
 the Potomac by moonlight, and then in due course procure a 
 ten-dollar preacher, and marry. 
 
 The die is cast. Sinbad, the sailor, might get out of the 
 diamond valley on a roc's back, but a twelve-hundred-dollar 
 clerk with a wife and four or more children astride his official 
 shoulders may never again hope for the peace and prosperity 
 of youth, or shake off the fetters he has entwined about him. 
 Age comes, obligations increase, political influence dies, and 
 the dreaded " yellow envelope" reaches him at last, clipping 
 off his official head with the withering coldness of a killing 
 frost. The poor fellow worn, wrinkled and gray mopes 
 about the streets and hotels, the very ghost of a man, seeking 
 
I4 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 some senator, representative or other official, to assist him in 
 getting back to the prison cells of the Department. But an- 
 other new-made grave in some lone cemetery perhaps in the 
 Potter's Field will be all that is left to mark the spot where 
 crumbles the clerk and his early hopes. 
 
 By careful manipulation I was promoted every few months, 
 to the amazement of my fellow clerks, and soon arrived at the 
 summit of a " fourth-class" station, receiving eighteen hun- 
 dred dollars per . annum for laboring, with my tongue mostly, 
 four hours a day ; spending the other twenty in reading, feast- 
 ing, strolling, courting, and political wire-working. 
 
 A year after my arrival in Washington, Cupid shot one of 
 his fatal darts at my susceptible heart, and before I hardly 
 realized it, I was married to a vivacious and intelligent young 
 lady from the Highlands of the Hudson. 
 
 The bright side of clerical life is found in the home circle 
 when holiday rest and pay-day intervenes to break the monot- 
 ony of official labor. Parties, balls, picnics and excursions 
 down the Potomac, are never failing sources of pleasure, and 
 the clerk who cannot procure a sweetheart to accompany him 
 must be in a bad way unworthy of notice or social friendship. 
 
 Honesty, sobriety and thrift are cardinal virtues ; and while 
 some frivolous clerks sport away their butterfly existence in 
 running after the gauze and glitter of official receptions, the 
 majority of the ladies and gentlemen in the various Depart- 
 ments toil faithfully to support the woman, man or child they 
 love. Very few in the outside world, when they behold the 
 human stream pour in at nine o'clock in the morning and 
 come out again at four o'clock in the afternoon, appreciate the 
 troubles and responsibilities of the weary hearts and tired brains 
 of the faithful workers who run along with box or basket con- 
 taining their frugal lunch, and hasten back when the day's 
 work is done to some modest house in the suburbs, where rents 
 are cheap and fashion has not invaded. 
 
 Washington society is cosmopolitan in the main ; there are 
 four distinct classes, that never mix for any length of time, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 147 
 
 viz : citizen, diplomatic, congressional and clerical. The old 
 citizen, who lives on the money and reputation of his ances- 
 tors, holds at arm's length the flitting families of to-day, and 
 boasts of the "good old days before the war," when Jackson, 
 Polk and Pierce dignified the White House, and every gentle- 
 man had a thousand dollar "nigger" to sell as a stake for a 
 horse race or a forfeit at a poker table. In the march of pro- 
 gress these old barnacles of a bygone age are passing away like 
 morning mist, and the generations now sweeping over the earth 
 will find them in the future with a monument and a faded 
 memory, under the cool, romantic shadows of Oak Hill. 
 
 The Diplomatic Corps is clannish, proud, and often pre- 
 sumptions. They laugh at the rude manners of our young 
 Republic in comparison with those of their ancient kingdoms, 
 where millions toil in slavery to support the royal few in their 
 silken sloth and hereditary idleness. You find them occasion- 
 ally out in force, when some public demonstration gives them 
 a chance to display their sleek forms clad in royal style, with 
 elaborate gold braid and tinsel sparkling here and there, not 
 thinking that their rich garbs are wrung from the tears, sweat 
 and blood of poor toilers who labor from the cradle to the 
 grave as mud -sills for monarchy. 
 
 I have seen congressional society come and go for twenty 
 years one crowd of official accidents wiping out the other, 
 like waves upon a sea when perchance an occasional breaker 
 dashes over some Senator, Representative or Cabinet Minister, 
 and lays him forever in the tomb of official oblivion. Wives, 
 sons, daughters and friends float around the surface of their 
 noted chief, in apparently everlasting power ; but the silent 
 ballot of the country plowman sends these creatures of a day 
 to join the innumerable caravan of politicians who have pass- 
 ed to the pale realms of shade. 
 
 The clerical class of society is the largest in number, and 
 for general intelligence and good behavior compares favorably 
 with the other three. They can be found at church entertain- 
 ments, raffle-fairs, masonic festivals, listening to band music 
 
I 4 8 A CHECKERED LIPE. 
 
 at the Capitol or White House, and in summer they crowd 
 the steamers that ply to and from the historic milestones along 
 the lapping waters of the Potomac. 
 
 Groups of the "boys" may be found after office hours in 
 the halls of the National, Metropolitan, Arlington, Ebbitt, 
 Riggs and Willard's, discussing matters of state over a bloom- 
 ing "cocktail," a bottle of Cliquot, or a quart of Imperial 
 from the vine-clad slopes of Missouri. They are jolly, good 
 natured mortals, who treat while a cent remains, and never 
 refuse an invitation to "smile," for fear of insulting the gen- 
 tleman who extended the invitation. I have known many 
 splendid characters among clerks ; and some who have passed 
 over the River of Time would share their last nickel with a 
 friend, although they knew that the contribution-hat would be 
 passed around among their comrades to procure funds for their 
 own burial. 
 
 There is another class of people in the District of Colum- 
 bia who do not particularly depend on Government for their 
 support, and who do not court any society that lives but a day 
 and then vanishes into the night of forgetfulness. I mean the 
 rich merchant, the wealthy farmer, the noted lawyer, the real 
 estate owner, the prosperous banker, the scientific physician, 
 and the retired millionaire. They are independent citizens, 
 caring no more for the "May-flies" of official renown than the 
 rustle of a passing breeze. They live in quiet, conscious of 
 their worth, knowing the latent power of their character, 
 treating the world with politeness and decorum, and pass to 
 the tomb in the evening glow of a just and happy life. 
 
 Washington is the Paris of America. "Boss" Shepard took 
 it from the mud of Slavery, and placed it in the concrete of 
 Freedom. He had the genius, the soul and the bravery to 
 secure large appropriations for improving and beautifying the 
 Capital, and by his primary surveys actually forced Congress 
 at succeeding sessions to continue the grand work he inaugur- 
 ated. Money was, no doubt, spent with a lavish hand, and 
 while a very few contractors became rich, the majority, with 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 149 
 
 Shepard himself, received but abuse, kicks and poverty. The 
 pirates of the press assailed the Governor as a national robber ; 
 but with the- nerve and fortitude that never forsakes the honest 
 man, he kept right on in his grand enterprise, and to-day has 
 lived down the unjust and villainous abuse of jealous medi- 
 ocrity. The day is near at hand when his statue in marble and 
 bronze shall decorate the beautiful parks he fashioned and im- 
 proved ; and in future years of national glory his memory will 
 be revered in story, and eulogized by pen and eloquent tongue 
 when his traducers are lost in forgotten graves. 
 
 A laboring plumber, a great contractor, a daring and patri- 
 otic governor, a successful miner and a social prince, are the 
 practical points of Shepard 'scarcer, and his children's children 
 will look back with pride upon the ilkutrious example of their 
 ancestor, who never struck below the belt, or cowered before 
 a cyclone of vituperation and malediction. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WASHINGTON, ITS ROMANTIC AND MATERIAL ELEMENT*. 
 
 Washington City and its surroundings hold more natural, 
 artistic and historic interest for the tourist than any other city irt 
 the United States. Rome, Paris, London and Pekin have the 
 frost of two thousand years to glorify their hoary heads, while 
 the capital of the Great Republic has but a century of deeds to- 
 match the illustrious capitals of antiquity. 
 
 And yet, when art, science, progress and human liberty are 
 considered, our Western giant strides over those ancient cities 
 with the pride and strength of a Colossus. The steamer, tele- 
 graph, sewing machine, cotton gin, spinning jenny, telephone, 
 locomotive, Hoe printing press, elevated railways, cable street 
 cars, elevators, mowers, reapers and binders, electric lights 
 and an endless variety of other great and useful inventions are 
 of American hand and brain. 
 
 While the nations of Europe and Asia boast of great writers, 
 architects, painters, sculptors and warriors, and trace their 
 history along the widening centuries, in the battles of their 
 kings, czars and emperors for beauty, booty and power, the 
 land of Washington is content with its record in behalf of 
 freedom, education and equal rights. 
 
 When summer with its fruits, flowers and foliage bedecks the 
 undulating slopes and rolling hills of the national capital, the 
 traveler from domestic and foreign lands may spend a profita- 
 ble hour tinder the bronze statue of General Winfield Scott on 
 the romantic heights of the Soldiers' Home Park, as the even- 
 ing sun sinks behind the hills of the Old Dominion. 
 
 150 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. ! 5 ! 
 
 Far to the left, looking south, you behold abrupt mountain 
 spurs fading into Maryland landscapes, with the silver waters 
 of the Anacosta sparkling in the view. White and bold, the 
 round dome of the capitol looms up into the blue sky like a 
 snowy cloud in the glimmering distance ; and as the eye peers 
 along the green banks of the Potomac to Alexandria, Fort 
 Washington and Mount Vernon, twenty miles away, sweeping 
 back to the right, where Fairfax Seminary', Arlington Heights 
 and Georgetown University lift their classic crests- the soul 
 imbibes the glorious scene, and views Washington with poetic 
 rapture, as she sparkles in her setting of emerald hills, like a 
 variegated jewel shining in the purple twilight. 
 
 Before turning away from the beautiful walks, drives, trees, 
 flowers and Arcadian slopes of the Soldiers' Home, let the 
 thoughtful traveler look down the historic vista of a hundred 
 years, where human valor shone bright and brave at Lexing- 
 ton, Bunker Hill, Trenton, Saratoga, Yorktown, New Orleans, 
 Lake Erie, Mexico, Chapultepec, Buena Vista, Bull Run, Fort 
 Donelson, Shiloh, Chancellorville, Lookout Mountain, Atlanta, 
 Gettysburg and Appomattox ; and taking a long, lingering 
 look at the capitol, he beholds the last rays of golden sunset 
 shining on the starry flag and Goddess of Liberty, and may 
 justly exclaim : Blessed be the name and fame of an American 
 citizen ! 
 
 BOAT CLUBS. 
 
 The boat clubs of the National Capital are great sources 
 of health and pleasure. When leafy June clothes the roll- 
 ing hills and blooming vales of the placid Potomac with an 
 emerald garb, hundreds of happy mortals in artistic row-boats, 
 may be seen darting along the beautiful river like swallows, as 
 the golden sunbeams in the west melt into the silvery light of 
 the rising moon. 
 
 The Capitol, Long Bridge, Washington Monument, Arling- 
 ton, Aqueduct Bridge, Catholic University and the romantic 
 heights of Georgetown can be seen in the glimmering twilight ; 
 and as day departs into mellow moonlight, the hum of busy 
 
!52 A CHECKERED LIfiE. 
 
 insects, tinkling bells, and merry serenaders in boats can be 
 heard for miles along the river, rocks and gorges, that echo 
 back rhythmic melody to hope, love and beauty. Then it is 
 that the heart of man and woman, boy and girl, casts aside 
 dull care, and allows nature to assume its own realm, in ram- 
 ble, song and dance ; crowning shell, out-rigger, picnic and 
 barge party, with a halo of happiness. 
 
 The Analosta, Potomac and Columbia Clubs may be re- 
 spectfully denominated as aristocratic, autocratic and demo- 
 cratic ; yet all ministering to health and pleasure, vicing with 
 other clubs in annual regattas for golden cups, medals and 
 banners. I have often been a delighted guest of these clubs, 
 and in an humble way have lent my grist of nonsense and song 
 to cheer the pleasant hours, scattering a few wild flowers along 
 the by-paths of the classic Potomac. 
 
 As the years roll away, pleasure-boating on the river will in- 
 crease, until every well regulated family in the District of Co- 
 lumbia, will have a representative in the clubs, where each 
 lady and gentleman may secure a closer friendship that shall 
 ripen into lasting felicity. 
 
 The Grand Canal of Venice, with its interesting water-ways, 
 beautiful gondolas, royal barges and marble palaces has made 
 the " Queen of the Adriatic," noted in song and story along 
 the lapse of ages ; and although the " Bridge of Sighs" spans 
 her silvery spray, the music and loves of boating beauties and 
 gallant knights have kept alive her glory, and shall, while the 
 snowy peaks of Alpine ranges continue to shine in the soft sun- 
 light of an Italian sky. So shall Washington and the Poto- 
 mac gather for us some unfading laurels, and glorify our aquatic 
 triumphs in marble, poetry, love and song, even when the 
 searching storms of decay shall have swept over the crumbling 
 monuments of Columbia ! 
 
 " I heed not if my ripppling skiff 
 Floats swift or slow from cliff to cliff; 
 With dreamful eyes my spirit lies 
 Under the gates of Paradise." 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 153 
 
 FAMOUS CHARACTERS. 
 
 The pen of Dickens and the brush of Reynolds would be 
 needed to describe the noted and peculiar characters that clus- 
 ter about the Capital. For twenty years I have seen them 
 come and go, like swallows in season, or like the foliage that 
 blooms in spring, brightens in summer, fades in autumn, and 
 dies in the withering blasts of winter. The winding corridors 
 of the capitol and the halls of hotels and restaurants have 
 sheltered the motley group. 
 
 There is SAM Cox, the brightest and best-informed man in 
 Congress; and while his "sunset" of life glows with a mellow 
 light, his sparkling wit shines like drops of diamond dew at 
 sunrise. 
 
 Look at GEN. SHERMAN, striding towards the war office 
 quick and nervous as a mountain deer, with military cloak and 
 broad-brimmed hat the very picture of a dashing soldier. He 
 knows and loves everybody, and receives a double grist of ad- 
 miration for his heroic virtues. Like a gray eagle from some 
 splintered crag, his bright, flashing eye spans the vale below, 
 and although rare birds of variegated plumage" fill the forest 
 with dulcet notes, he sweeps into the boundless blue of intel- 
 lectual grandeur, and leads the chorus of the mountains. 
 
 See General GRANT, short, solid, imperturbable the child 
 of destiny, and sure as Fate. He believes in himself, and never 
 doubts the field of fortune, but sweeps on with the assurance of 
 calculated audacity ! 
 
 Behold PHIL SHERIDAN, a born soldier, an epigram in war, 
 an exclamation point of success ; inflexible against despair, 
 snatching victory out of the iron jaws of defeat. Wailing Win- 
 chester still echoes his name. 
 
 " He dashed down the line, 'mid a storm of huzzas, 
 And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because 
 The sight of the master compelled it to pause!" 
 
 WADE HAMPTON moves about the capitol with the supreme 
 confidence of a soldier, and the elegance of a gentleman. Bold 
 and patriotic for his cause, and generous to a fallen foe, heroic 
 
I 5 4 A CHECKERED LIfiE. 
 
 and sincere in life, his memory will be cherished by the brave 
 and true who fight for home and fatherland. 
 
 There comes GEORGE B. CORKHILL, a round and perfect 
 gentleman, who sprung at one bound into notoriety by launch- 
 ing Guiteau into " the pale realms of shade," in justice to the 
 martyr GARFIELD. 
 
 Who does not know beaming BOB INGERSOLL, w'ho dares the 
 world with his Curious infidel convictions? He says, " Life is 
 a narrow vale between the barren peaks of two eternities," yet 
 his heart and soul can hear the " rustle of a wing," and see 
 the bright stars of hope sparkle in the realms of God. He 
 may write, lecture and argue to the tomb, but he knows and 
 feels in his inmost heart, that God and nature sing the song of 
 everlasting life ! 
 
 GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND is the most graceful reminis- 
 cence writeF in the country. He has a looking-glass mind 
 that can reflect all objects received. He writes beautiful, po- 
 etic lines ; and had the Adriatic instead of the Chesapeake 
 sang at his birth, the classic tones of Tasso might have inspired 
 his lute. 
 
 Gaze upon LUCIAN YOUNG, a gay Viking of the salt sea. 
 Kentucky never produced a braver man, and the navy has 
 no better sailor. While Cape Hatteras roars over the wreck 
 of the ill-fated Huron, the glory of Young will be sung in 
 storms, and the lives he saved in breasting the billows of fate 
 will place his name in the proud roster of naval heroes. 
 
 Classic JOHN DANENHOWER has the cool, quiet bravery of his 
 companion Young ; and while the icebergs of the Arctic sea 
 glitter in the cold sunlight of Siberian solitude, Danenhower, 
 Melville and De Long will be seen in the noble procession of 
 naval heroes who have suffered for science and country. 
 
 There is a conundrum of a character leaning against Wil- 
 lard's antique portals TOM OCHILTREE he with that Titan 
 top-knot, a lover of truth, and as modest as a maiden. He 
 came as a blizzard from Texas, and lingers like sunshine mid 
 open flowers. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. l ^ 
 
 PROCTOR KNOTT is a walking compilation of wit and mag- 
 netic humanity. While he is not as quick in repartee as Con- 
 gressman Cox or Senator Vest, he has better staying qualities 
 in the field of fun, and a faculty of making the most out of the 
 world that laughs. 
 
 His satirical description of the tropical clime and rosy sur- 
 roundings of Duluth made him governor of Kentucky ! . Few 
 men have prospered so long and well on one funny speech. 
 Yet he might have been a rival of Douglas Jerrold and Dean 
 Swift, and sat with Beau Nash among the beauties of Bath. 
 His gray hair, fine brow, bright eye and florid face, are golden 
 sign-boards to his genial heart. Love and confidence follow 
 in his train, and the clouds of misfortune have never dimmed 
 the luster of his polished humor. 
 
 As lawyer, congressman and governor, he has been the pride 
 of Kentucky ; and while curmudgeons may hot like the ease 
 and freedom of his manner, the heart of the people beats re- 
 sponsive to his own. 
 
 Long may he live to cheer the festive board, 
 And spread his bounty like a royal lord. 
 
 And there is JAMES G. BLAINE, sauntering down Pennsylva- 
 nia avenue to the capitol with one of his senatorial chums. He 
 talks and gesticulates incessantly, not only for his side partner, 
 but for the world at large. He might have been a rival of the 
 actor Garrick. 
 
 "On the stage, he was natural, simple, affecting, 
 'Twas only that when he was off he was acting." 
 
 As school-teacher, editor, representative, speaker, senator 
 and secretary, Elaine .has filled a rich nook in our Republic for 
 thirty years ; and while not endowed with the profound knowl- 
 edge of Aaron Burr or Henry Clay, he possesses the scheming 
 elegance of the former, and the audacious independence of the 
 latter statesman. He belongs to the irrepressible race of Celts, 
 whose hand and brain can be seen on the milestones of human 
 history, through the valleys and across the rugged mountains of 
 antiquity. 
 
156 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Look at royal ROSCOE CONKLING as he strides the senatorial 
 chamber, posing for the gallery gods, and sneering at his sena- 
 torial compeers, who crouch beneath the satire and lightning 
 flashes of this modern Ajax. He possesses the wisdom of 
 Burke, the eloquent flights of Mirabeau and the imperial phil- 
 osophy of Caesar, who believed that the people were created 
 for his imperial use. 
 
 " Why man he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus." 
 # & # # &#*# 
 
 " Now in the name of all the gods at once, 
 Upon what meat doth this our Csesar feed 
 That he lords it over all ?" 
 
 Glance for a moment at that tall, straight, classic figure as 
 he walks to his senatorial desk, and dashes off letters and bills 
 with the rapidity of a stenographer. That is CHARLES SUMNER, 
 the Massachusetts statesman. His hair is bushy and gray, his' 
 face clean-cut and studious. The beauty of Alcibiades must 
 have shone in his youth ; while the eloquence of Pericles, the 
 Athenian, moulded his manhood. Like his Athenian proto- 
 type, he was the uncompromising patron of the people, and 
 lovers of art, letters and science found a friend in the noted 
 abolitionist. Although the bludgeon of slavery struck him 
 down in the senate, he was the first statesman in America 
 who dared to blot out from the victorious flag of freedom the 
 battle-scars of civil war. Aspasia in her most noble days, 
 might have chosen him instead of Pericles, and as he possessed 
 the intelligence of the Grecian, he had the unalterable fortitude 
 of Cato, the illustrious Roman. 
 
 Look at JAMES B. BELFORD, a curious compound from the 
 cloud-capped peaks of Colorado. He swaggers along with the 
 .air of a Rocky Mountain stage-driver, or the buck-skin bold- 
 ness of a miner. While receiving the sneering shots of his 
 more genteel companions in Congress, he gives them an occa- 
 sional broadside that strips their surface-plates to the water's 
 ^dge, exposing the worm-eaten wood of mediocrity. Belford, 
 like Sumner, is a man of the people. He has a thorough 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 knowledge of letters, law, and constitutions. Labor finds in 
 him a champion of strict integrity ; and while capital mocks at 
 his opposition, the day may come when its votaries will kneel 
 at his feet as the Danton of another revolution. 
 
 Capital and labor will be at war while God stamps men 
 with unequal body and brain. All that the legislators of the 
 earth can do is to regulate the never-ending jealousy that 
 arises out of the eternal laws of self-preservation. 
 
 The ground-swell of labor may rise every century, and throw 
 off for a time the cruel crust of poverty and tyranny ; but like 
 volcanic upheavals, the earth and sea settle back into their 
 wonted depths, and the coral insects of honest labor build 
 again over the desolation they have wrought ! 
 
 Behold the Bacchus boquet of bar-room beauties as they 
 meander off to "smile" away the lingering hours. Generals,, 
 colonels, clerks, doctors and irrepressible judges have passed 
 before my vision for many years, and to-day they seem as 
 "willin' " as Bacchus to take "suthin," and as fresh as morn- 
 ing zephyrs in cheeking down adversity. Ponce de Leon 
 might have discovered the fountain of youth had he known how 
 faded gentility lives at the Capital without any visible means: 
 of support. Esto Perpetua. 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 IMPEACHMENT OF PRESIDENT JOHNSON. LEAVING THE INTER- 
 NAL REVENUE OFFICE. 
 
 The Impeachment of President Andrew Johnson was rife 
 with interest, excitement and ambition. Washington society 
 was stirred from center to circumference ; and while the De- 
 partment officials leaned to the side of their immediate " bread 
 and butter," there were thousands who acted secretly with 
 -congressional influences, and held a sail to windward to catch 
 the radical breeze of success. 
 
 If there is any one thing that a Washington Department 
 official can do with great neatness and dispatch, it is the acro- 
 batic performance of turning his politics with each succeeding 
 administration. It is related of old "Joe" Wilson, who was 
 Commissioner of the General Land Office for nearly thirty 
 years, that at a social reception he was taunted by a senator of 
 promptly changing his politics to accommodate every new ad- 
 ministration. 
 
 Joe, not the least embarassed, replied: " Mr. Senator, I pro- 
 fess to be a man of genius, and a walking encyclopaedia of va- 
 ried information, and I thank God that I never yet saw an ad- 
 ministration that could turn faster than I can !" 
 
 I was in the House gallery the day Articles of Impeachment 
 were passed against President Johnson. The Radical mem- 
 bers, led by Thaddeus Stevens, the greatest man in Congress, 
 determined to push the articles through under whip and spur. 
 Butler, Boutwell, Bingham, Schenck, Washburne, Poland and 
 Allison, belabored the Administration with trip-hammer blows. 
 Wood, Brooks, Cox and Eldredge, endeavored to stem the tide 
 
 158 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. I 59 
 
 of Radical progress, and break the storm that roared about the 
 devoted head of their chief. 
 
 Hon. Charles A. Eldredge, of Wisconsin, was the leader of 
 the forlorn hope of Democracy, and for many years stood in 
 the way of the Radical reconstruction laws of Congress. He 
 was taunting and badgering in his attacks, and delighted in 
 stirring up the congressional menagerie with a long, logical 
 pole. As a satirist and wit, he had few superiors ; and as a man 
 of generous judgment and a lawyer of fine ability, he had few 
 equals. The "Old Commoner," of Pennsylvania, acknowl- 
 edged the ability of Eldredge ; and while he fired his ponder- 
 ous oratory at the political heresies of the Wisconsin states- 
 man, he never broke that rare personal friendship that lasted 
 until the luster of life faded forever from those great gray eyes 
 of the Pennsylvania radical. 
 
 In the passage of the Impeachment articles, the "previous 
 question" was finally secured by the unalterable determination 
 of Thaddeus Stevens, who arose in his seat like a bold mount- 
 ain crag lifting itself above the gurgling waters, rolling plains 
 and hill-tops around. He sent forth satire at the Reconstruc- 
 tion vetoes of Johnson, accusing him of high crimes and mis- 
 demeanors, with as much power and eloquence as Burke spent 
 upon the doomed head of Warren Hastings. His bold flights 
 or logic and accusing wrath reminded me of the sweep of the 
 mountain eagle, or the condor of the Andes, that soars away 
 into illimitable space to " bathe his plumage in the thunder's 
 home." 
 
 But how vain are all the calculations and .battles of man ! 
 The impeachment of Andrew Johnson is now but a memory 
 in the march of the Great Republic, and the principal actors 
 have long since mingled their dust with that of the hills and 
 valleys they loved in life. Johnson rests on the mountain 
 slopes of East Tennessee, where the morning sunbeams, dart- 
 ing over the Smoky Range, may linger for a moment on the 
 rugged character who was unconquerable in life and honored 
 by all in death. 
 
T 6o A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 The last look I had of Thaddeus Stevens was in the rotunda 
 of the capitol when his body lay in state. That great angular 
 head, crowned with a broad, high forehead like a beetling 
 cliff, breaks upon my memory now, and takes me back to the 
 scenes of his forensic triumphs, when he lashed the halting and 
 hesitating into the Radical lines, as if each word that issued 
 from his pale lips struck in like a whip of scorpions. But the 
 great heart and broad intellect that gave free schools to Penn- 
 sylvania, and universal suffrage to the nation, sleeps in modest 
 glory at Lancaster. Some day the people of Pennsylvania will 
 erect a grand monument to his memory, and the teachers and 
 school-children of the Keystone State, will contribute a marble 
 statue of the great man holding a book, and writing with a 
 golden pen : Equality and freedom for all mankind \ 
 
 *** 
 
 In the fall of 1869, I left the Internal Revenue Office. 
 Through the instrumentality of Hon. Columbus Delano, Com- 
 missioner of Internal Revenue, I was sent West to take charge 
 of the official papers of the supervisor's office for Arkansas and 
 the Indian Territory, and perform the duties incident to that 
 responsible position. Headquarters were located at Little 
 Rock, the capital and most beautiful city of Arkansas. The 
 supervisor's office, when not carried in a hat, was located at 
 the old Anthony House. 
 
 I left Washington City one starlight night, leaving behind 
 family and friends, and with high hopes and poetic expecta- 
 tions rattled away over hill, mountain, river and plain until I 
 reached the city of Memphis, situated on a bold cliff, over- 
 looking the turbid waters of the Mississippi. Resting at the 
 Overton House for a day, and becoming acquainted with a 
 number of citizens bound to their homes in Little Rock and 
 Duvall's Bluffs, we secured passage on the old side-wheel 
 steamer Commercial. 
 
 The Commercial was loaded to the guards with freight and 
 passengers, and as the evening shadows lengthened, she slipped 
 her cable, and with the rhythmic song of darkey deck-hands, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. !6i 
 
 sounding a farewell chorus, we steamed down the river toward 
 Fort Pillow, and into the mouth of White River. 
 
 In due course we landed at Duvall's Bluffs, and took a ram- 
 shackle railroad for Little Rock. The train lurched forward 
 and sideways as if each puff of the engine would land us on 
 the wild prairies, or among the burr-oaks and black-jacks of 
 the swampy woods. My heart was in my mouth, and even the 
 assurance of Colonel Price that the road was smooth and safe, 
 did not quiet my day-dreams of death, until the iron horse 
 whistled his shrill notes for the shanty depot opposite the town 
 of Rocks. We crossed the Arkansas River on a ferry, and 
 climbed the steep streets leading to the center of the city, put- 
 ting up at the Anthony House, where a good supper and soft 
 bed banished dull care. 
 
 I remained in Little Rock about two months, visiting, riding 
 and manipulating in the walks of pleasure, when not engaged 
 in the stale rut of official work. The U. S. Arsenal was a re- 
 sort of fun and jolly entertainments, where officers and soldiers 
 joined in contributing to the enjoyment of citizens, irrespective 
 of party. Many private houses threw open their hospitable 
 doors, and entertained with a lavish hand those citizens who 
 had left home and friends in the North to battle with prejudice 
 and unknown fields, in a land of strangers. Many of the " old 
 families," however, would not mingle with the new-fledged 
 birds of passage that had tried their " carpet-bag" wings in the 
 capital of the state. Nor is this to be wondered at. A great, 
 desolating war had just swept over the land ; the deep scars of 
 defeat and death could be still seen on the fertile bottoms and 
 broken hill-sides of Arkansas. Fathers, brothers and sons had 
 gone down in the shock of battle, and their green graves 
 punctuated resentment. 
 
 "A Fool's Errand" and " Bricks Without Straw," with the 
 harrowing details may not be overdrawn, but if the brilliant 
 author will turn the tables and reverse the glass for a few mo- 
 ments, he might recite and contemplate with more horror 
 the picture of a triumphant South playing the adventurer and 
 
!6 2 A CHECKERED LIfE. 
 
 "carpet-bagger" over the North ! I am candid to acknowl- 
 edge that if fate had doomed me to defeat I should never, 
 while life remained, have acknowledged the slave oligarchy, or 
 bent my knee and neck to the yoke of the conqueror ; and I 
 believe the free spirit of the North would have committed a 
 million more crimes, in the interest of their defeated manhood, 
 than have ever been laid at the door of the White League or 
 Kuklux Klan. 
 
 Little Rock is beautifully situated on a high bluff, overiooK- 
 ing the Arkansas. On the hilly margin of the stream a large 
 number of fine mansions have been erected since the war. 
 The Pike mansion in olden times often rang to the music of 
 the piano, violin, guitar and banjo, and young hearts and old 
 heads tripped away in the merry dance to the tune of "Monnie 
 Musk," "Fishers' Hornpipe," or "The Arkansas Traveler." 
 Bright-haired Apollo and beautiful Venus vied in the boundless 
 pleasure of the hour, where 
 
 " Joy leaps on faster with a louder laugh, 
 And Sorrow tosses to the sea his staff, 
 And pushes back the hair from his dim eyes, 
 To look again upon forgotten skies!'' 
 
 Albert Pike, the good, gray poet, who penned these classic 
 lines, was the presiding sage that gave to the Pike mansion its 
 glory, and made it the Mecca of literary pilgrims from home 
 and foreign lands. But the glory of those ancient halls has de- 
 parted ; the cobwebs of time interlace the crumbling lattice ; 
 the bat and the owl flit. in the grove in twilight hours; the 
 sound of revelry only comes back through the magic memory 
 of vanished years, and the old poet, like a relic of bygone 
 days, moves among the throng of the National Capitol, peer- 
 ing through the gloaming of the past into clouded, but not 
 " forgotten skies !" A kind thought and sad tear shall fill the 
 measure of the old man's ambition, and when our greatest ma- 
 sonic light goes out forever, his modest hopes shall not be dis- 
 appointed, and his own pathetic lines will be a prophecy to 
 his mystic brethren in every land and clime : 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 163 
 
 " Perhaps when I have passed away, 
 
 Like the sad echo of a dream, 
 There may be some one found to say 
 A word that might like sorroiv seem!" 
 
 I knew several remarkable men at Little Rock, who congre- 
 gated to the city from the North after the close of the war, and 
 organized the state government in " carpet-bag" days. 
 
 Powell Clayton, Alex. McDonald, Tom Bowen, Jack Mc- 
 Clure, Steve Dorsey, Jim Hodges, Bill Oliver, Joe Brooks and 
 Charles W. Tankersby were the ruling conclave. 
 
 Tankersby was the most remarkable man of the party. I saw 
 him on one occasion, at the assembling of the Legislature, 
 take the Speaker's chair in a factional fight, and hold it like 
 Napoleon did in the days of the French triumvirate. " Tank," 
 as he was familiarly called, was a born leader, and had he been 
 schooled in war would have made a great general. 
 
 In the course of my official career, it became necessary to 
 proceed to Fort Smith, where temporary headquarters were es- 
 tablished, and alleged frauds on the revenue were being perpe- 
 trated by manufacturers of tobacco, who had erected their fac- 
 tories along the line of Arkansas and the Indian Territory. 
 
 District Attorney Huckleberry, Marshal Britton, Deputy 
 Collector Arthur Gunther and Deputy Collector R. C. Kerens 
 were consulted in regard to the alleged frauds. It was con- 
 ceded by all that tobacco was being manufactured and shipped 
 into the states without payment of the prescribed tax, under 
 the impression of treaty stipulations empowering Indians to do 
 under the revenue laws what white manufacturers could not do. 
 
 The Indian manufacturers always insisted that they had the 
 sanction of the Internal Revenue Office in the establishment 
 of their factories, and that no fraud was intended ; while the 
 officers believed that the Indians were simple figure-heads for 
 the brain and capital of cunning white men, who escaped tax- 
 ation, and thereby unjustly competed with honest manufactur- 
 ers in the states. Be this as it may, some of the parties allege 
 their entire ruin, and now present an equitable claim for loss 
 incurred through the government prosecution. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 OFFICIAL AND PERSONAL EXPERIENCE IN MISSOURI. 
 
 In the summer of 1870, the states of Missouri, Kansas, Texas 
 and New Mexico were added to the supervisory district of Ar- 
 kansas and the Indian Territory, with headquarters at St. 
 Louis. I took charge of the St. Louis office, located on the 
 corner of Fifth and Pine streets, as chief clerk of the establish- 
 ment. Soon after, I was promoted to the position of a general 
 revenue agent, but continued to perform the legal duties of 
 the office in conjunction with Thomas Walsh, a gentleman of 
 fine clerical ability, and an honorable man. 
 
 I made periodical trips through the District, investigating 
 the offices of collectors and assessors, and examining into the 
 general enforcement of the revenue laws, reporting my conclu- 
 sions and recommendations to the Commissioner of Internal 
 Revenue at Washington. When not engaged with official 
 duties in Missouri, I took part in politics, and became a worker, 
 writer and speaker for the Republican party. I was what 
 might be termed a natural politician, and took to the eccentri- 
 cities of the trade with vivacity and pleasure. Ward, city, 
 county, state and National Conventions found me as a delegate. 
 
 The Presidential campaign of 1872 was a remarkable one. 
 Grant had been in office about four years, and had failed to 
 put a million chronic office-seekers into a hundred thousand 
 places. This was sad, but true. The patriotic men in the Repub- 
 lican party, who carried torchlights in 1868, and grew hoarse 
 in praise of the hero of Appomattox and the historic apple 
 tree, and who failed to get office, were hungry and rampant 
 four years later. 
 
 164 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 165 
 
 On the 22d of February, 1872, the Republicans of Missouri 
 held a state convention in Jefferson City, for the purpose of 
 nominating thirty delegates to attend the National Convention 
 to be held in June at Philadelphia. The convention was com- 
 posed of about seven hundred delegates, every county in the 
 state being represented. The Liberal wing, led by Henderson, 
 Stanard, Dyer and Grosvenor, and the Radical wing, com- 
 manded by Blow, Filley, McKee, Burdett, Van Horn, New- 
 comb and Krum, endeavored to lay down their old differences 
 on the altar of harmony, and retrieve what they had lost in the 
 ''sell-out" of Gratz Brown to the Democracy. The factions 
 approached each other very gingerly, and while talking of har- 
 mony, worked secretly to nominate their own men. 
 
 I was elected as a delegate from the ninth ward, and went 
 into the convention "red hot" for the Administration. There 
 was no trouble in my going to any convention as a delegate 
 from the ninth ward after I learned the ropes of city politics. 
 
 The night before the convention at Jefferson City, a great 
 crowd assembled at the Madison House. "Slates" were fixed 
 up, ciphered upon, rubbed out, and smashed. Knots of del- 
 egates assembled in rooms, halls, and on the pavement, dis- 
 cussing the prospects of the next day, and predicting that such 
 and such parties would be put in nomination. 
 
 I walked over to the state house on the morning of the con- 
 vention, with Chauncey I. Filley, my room-mate of the previ- 
 ous night. We had fixed up a slate for President of the con- 
 vention, but through some unforeseen circumstances, our man 
 was not presented. After Henry T. Blow, chairman of the 
 State Central Committee, called the meeting to order in a 
 patriotic, harmonious speech, the name of George H. Shields, 
 a law partner of John B. Henderson, was put in nomination 
 for President of the convention, and his election was secured 
 without opposition. Committees were duly announced, cre- 
 dentials examined, and everything put in working order. I 
 was appointed on the committee to draft resolutions ; and be- 
 ing a sentimentalist, prepared a set before I left St. Louis, that 
 
T 66 A CHECKERED LlfE. 
 
 embodied my idea of Republican principles. The endorse- 
 ment of Grant's administration and a firm assertion of hard- 
 money principles were the main features in my "cut and dried" 
 material, outside the usual buncomb promises in the interests 
 of truth, virtue, honesty, economy and liberty. 
 
 Gen. John B. Henderson saw at once that I was pitching 
 about like a young colt in a wasp's nest, or like the Hibernian 
 at Donnybrook Fair, hunting for some one to tread on the tail 
 of his coat. He quietly caught me under the shadow of one of 
 the pillars that supported the porch of the capitol, and with a 
 peculiar twinkle in his eye, said : " Joyce, my dear fellow, let 
 me give you a little advice. Go to the drug store, get a pint 
 of red pepper, put it in your boots, and draw the heat out of 
 your head ! " Before I conld reply, he shot off with a laugh, 
 and left me to muse on his good natured cut. 
 
 My real object in attending the State Convention was for the 
 purpose of becoming a delegate to the National Convention, 
 and thus pave the way for Congressional preferment in the 3d 
 District. I consulted with Mr. Filley, with whom I held the 
 closest personal and political relations, and who never, when 
 he was in power, failed to advise with me on current political 
 matters. 
 
 I was often at his residence, and dined with himself and his 
 charming and intellectual wife. Knowing that he made a reg- 
 ular business of politics, I often gave way to his expert talent 
 in running "the machine. " He suggested that I had better 
 not run directly as a delegate to the National Convention, but 
 turn in and pull the wires for his election ; and as he only 
 wanted the glory and power that being a National delegate 
 would afford in the new Administration, I could, when the 
 proper time came, take his proxy and be, to all intents and 
 purposes, an actual voting delegate. 
 
 I assented to the arrangement, and in due time the following 
 certificate and letters were placed in my hands, making me a 
 voting delegate at the Philadelphia Academy of Music in the 
 National Republican Convention of 1872 : 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 167 
 
 City of Jefferson, State of Missouri, ) 
 February 22d, 1872. / 
 
 This certifies that at a Republican State Convention, held in the city of 
 Jefferson, in pursuance to a call issued by the Republican State Executive 
 Committee, for the purpose of choosing delegates to the Republican Na- 
 tional Convention, to be held in the city of Philadelphia, State of Pennsyl- 
 vania, June 5th, 1872, Hon. Chauncey I. Filley was chosen as delegate for 
 the First Congressional District of the State of Missouri, to attend said 
 National Convention. Geo. H. Shields, President. 
 
 Theodore Brown, Secretary. 
 
 Col. JOHN A. JOYCE, (*) St. Louis, June 30, 1872. 
 
 Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 Dear Sir : I hand you my credential and request to Delega- 
 tion to make you my proxy. Yours, etc., 
 
 Chauncey I. Filley. 
 
 I had gone to Philadelphia among the first of the Republic- 
 ans who departed from St. Louis, and took rooms at the Con- 
 tinental Hotel which Filley had previously engaged. I was 
 afraid for awhile that he would not send me as his proxy. The 
 following letter shows something of his anxiety : 
 
 St. Louis, June 2d, 1872. 
 Col. JOYCE : 
 
 The chances are against my coming. So you can take the whole of 
 my room and put in whom you choose. If I should come, I can go to a 
 friend's house and stay nights. 
 
 I am looking upon you as my friend, and the friend of Republican suc- 
 cess. Henderson will not leave until to-morrow, Monday, night. I may 
 come with him, but don't keep the room for me. 
 
 Yours, truly, Chauncey I. Filley. 
 
 Mr. Filley did not come to the Convention ; his obligations 
 to me, and his shrewd instinct of not antagonizing any of the 
 elements he relied on to put him in the St. Louis post-office, 
 prevented his voting as a delegate. I was duly elected by the 
 delegation on the proxy given me, and acted as Mr. Filley's 
 "friend " and the "friend of Republican success" from the 
 beginning of the Grant and Wilson campaign until its tri- 
 amphant close. Gen. Henderson arrived at the Continental 
 
 * This letter in Filley's writing (fac simile) appears near the end of the book. 
 
1 68 A CHECKERED L1EE. 
 
 the day of the Convention, and as all the rooms were crowded, 
 I shared my bed with him. 
 
 Immediately after the National Convention, Republican 
 decks were cleared for action, the sinews of war were collected 
 and applied, and every means taken to defeat the Dolly Varden 
 Brindle Pup Liberal - Republican - Democratic ticket, led by 
 Greeley and Biown. Of course, every sensible man knew 
 that this ticket was a fraud from the beginning, and as such 
 could have but one ending ignominious defeat. In Missouri, 
 and particularly in St. Louis, there was a very bitter feeling 
 against Grant's administration. Brown, Blair, Schurz and 
 their followers were rampant, and constantly seeking for every 
 straw to lay in the way of Republican success. 
 
 A meeting of the State Central Committee was called, and 
 means suggested and devised for raising funds. I was a mem- 
 ber of the committee for three years, representing the Third 
 Congressional District. Hon. Henry T. Blow, the chairman 
 of the committee, and the particular friend of Gen. Grant ; 
 Wm. McKee, the editor and proprietor of the Democrat ; Hon. 
 Charles W. Ford, an intimate friend of the President, the 
 Supervisor and myself, put our heads and hands together, and 
 raised what was known in the campaign as " the silk stocking 
 fund " a sum of money amounting to thirty thousand dollars. 
 
 This was to be expended by Grant's personal friends in 
 their own way, and while the State Committee, through the im- 
 portunity of Mr. Filley, endeavored to control the fund, Mr. 
 Blow would not allow it to use any of the money. 
 
 The "silk stocking" fund was raised by "voluntary contri- 
 butions" from collectors, assessors, deputy collectors, assistant 
 assessors, agents, storekeepers, gaugers, distillers, rectifiers, 
 liquor dealers, tobacco and cigar manufacturers, merchants, 
 brewers, lawyers, doctors, preachers, and from any citizen who 
 felt an interest in the election of Gen. Grant. I drew up the 
 subscription-paper, procured the bulk of the contributions, and 
 turned the money over to Hon. Henry T. Blow, who doubtless 
 put it where it did the most good. I was simply a bold, exec- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. r 6 9 
 
 utive broad-ax in the hands of my many personal and political 
 friends, and never failed when running "the machine" to hew 
 to the line, let the chips fall where they might. 
 
 Mr. Filley was not satisfied with the manner in which the 
 Central Committee ran the campaign, and after consulting 
 with Gen. Isaac F. Shepard, E. O. Stanard, E. W. Fox, C. A. 
 Newcomb, George Bain and myself, it was determined to or- 
 ganize the " Missouri Club," an institution that did practical 
 yeoman service during the Presidential campaign of 1872. 
 
 George Bain, a shrewd politician, an active business man, 
 and a gentleman of undoubted integrity and ability,was chosen 
 President of the Club, and James B. Nicholson was made the 
 Recording Secretary. An Executive Committee of seven was 
 also appointed. 
 
 I was selected as Corresponding Secretary, and received and 
 sent out all the campaign literature. Headquarters were located 
 at Temple Hall, corner of Fifth and Walnut streets. A Vice- 
 President of the club was selected from each of the congres- 
 sional districts, from the most prominent men in the state. 
 
 During the campaign I made several speeches, wrote numer- 
 ous editorials for the Democrat, St. Joseph Herald and Kansas 
 City Journal, and sent telegraphic political messages to the 
 New York Times, doing every legitimate thing in my power to 
 secure the success of the Republican party. 
 
 The November battle resulted, as all know, in the almost 
 unanimous election of Grant and Wilson, burying poor Greeley 
 beneath an avalanche of misfortune, from which the great edit- 
 or and kind heart never recovered, but went to his grave the 
 victim of Liberal hypocrites and his own vaulting ambition ! 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 DECORATION-DAY AT JEFFERSON BARRACKS. 
 
 In the spring of 1873, great preparations were being made 
 to celebrate Decoration Day at Jefferson Barracks. A soldiers' 
 meeting was held at the court-house, with Hon. Thomas C. 
 Fletcher as chairman. I had often thought there was no rea- 
 son, in good morals or law, that prevented the Federal and 
 Confederate soldiers from going with their friends to the last 
 sad resting-place of their heroic dead, and there strewing the 
 brightest and sweetest flowers. 
 
 With this end in view, I offered a resolution in the soldiers' 
 meeting to invite ex-Confederates to join us in celebrating 
 Decoration Day at the Barracks, where slept about ten thousand 
 heroes, "blue," "gray" and "black." A number in the 
 meeting were opposed to the proposition, but after a warm dis- 
 cussion it was carried, two to one. Then it was a question 
 whether any of the ex-Confederates should be invited to speak 
 from the platform with the regular orator of the day. I in- 
 sisted that it would not be right and just to invite them to par- 
 ticipate without extending every privilege we claimed our- 
 selves, and that in fact, such men as Marmaduke, Frost and Slay- 
 back would spurn our invitation with contempt unless it was 
 given with the broadest spirit of liberality and common brother- 
 hood. The committee and speaker finally selected General 
 John B. Gray as president of the decoration ceremonies ; Gus- 
 tave Hienrich as the German speaker ; Col. A. W. Slayback, 
 an intellectual and gallant ex-Confederate, for an address, and 
 I was selected to deliver the regular oration. 
 
 Decoration Day with its May blossoms and fragrant memo- 
 ries arrived, and to the National Soldiers' Cemetery at Jeffer- 
 
 170 
 
CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 171 
 
 son Barracks there went forth from St. Louis ten thousand 
 beating hearts to do honor to the heroic dead that slumber 
 forever by the murmuring waters of the Mississippi. 
 
 The sun shone bright, the air was cool and clear, the shad- 
 ows of the woods came and went over the modest graves like 
 messengers of celestial wing, the birds sent forth their sweetest 
 songs, the grasshopper, cricket and bee joined in the melan- 
 choly hum of decoration, and all nature was clothed in a dark 
 emerald mantle in honor of the immortal dead. 
 
 In the presence of ten thousand sympathetic, beating hearts 
 from the ranks of the "blue" and the "gray" I delivered the 
 following oration : 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen : 
 
 Twelve years have passed since the old flag fell at Sumter. 
 Eight years have winged their flight to realms of eternity since 
 our glorious banner rose triumphant at Appomattox. Four 
 years of terrible war desolated the land, blackened the homes 
 and crushed the hearts of millions to place that darling symbol 
 on the highest pinnacle of Freedom's temple, and perpetuate 
 its meaning to the last syllable of recorded time. Brave men 
 fought and died to preserve us a nation. This day we assem- 
 ble to commemorate the event, strew upon their green graves 
 the earliest flowers of spring, and water these hillocks of patri- 
 otism with the tears of affection. This day we devote to the 
 memory of the loved and lost, who offered up their lives as 
 pledges for the perpetuation of liberty. Let us, the survivors 
 of " grim-visaged war," renew our devotion to the great Re- 
 public, and swear by the blood of our dear old comrades that 
 the "red, white and blue," under which they fought and died, 
 shall symbolize forever. All freedom for all men ! 
 
 Can we ever forget the first drum-beat of rebellion, the mus- 
 ter, the drill, the march, the bivouac, the charge, the bloody 
 battle, the groans of the dying, and the pale faces of the dead ? 
 From the Manassas to Mission Ridge, from Gettysburg to 
 Vicksburg, from Donaldson to Shiloh and Atlanta, through 
 
I 7 2 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 brake and brier, flood and field, swamp and forest, the boys in 
 blue, led by the greatest warrior of modern times, kept right 
 on in the path of duty, and at last planted their colors over the 
 graves of the boys in gray, who fell bravely victims to the 
 Moloch of slavery. 
 
 No word of mine shall ever impeach the bravery and sincer- 
 ity of those who fought and fell for the sunny South. Like 
 men they met us on the field of battle, and foot to foot and 
 hilt to hilt they acted the noble part of soldiers. We were 
 brothers of the same maternal line, and God grant that here- 
 after we may kneel at the same shrine and worship at one com- 
 mon altar of law and liberty. Here let us dedicate an ever- 
 lasting temple to heroism. This green sward shall be the 
 mausoleum of heroic hearts, its dome the bending heavens, and 
 its altar-candles the watching stars of God. Year after year 
 let us assemble at this Mecca, and, kneeling by the graves of 
 brave men, let the living clasp hands in fervency of friendship, 
 .and strew sweet flowers upon the moldering remains of the 
 blue and the gray. 
 
 " From the silence of sorrowful hours, 
 
 Let desolate mourners go, 
 Lovingly laden with flowers 
 
 Alike for the friend and the foe, 
 Under the sod and the dew, 
 
 Waiting the judgment day ; 
 Under the roses the Blue 
 
 Under the lilies the Gray." 
 
 In the fight for Union and freedom the waters of the Poto- 
 mac were crimsoned with the life-blood of our Eastern brothers, 
 and the majestic river flowing at the foot cf these graves will 
 murmur forever the battle glory of the West as it wends its 
 way through the land of sun and flowers to the surging waters 
 of the Gulf. Upon its bosom commercial palaces float, unim- 
 peded by war, from the Falls of St. Anthony to the Delta, 
 taking the cereals, minerals and wares of the North in exchange 
 for the cotton, spices and fruits of the South. Blessed be the 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 '73 
 
 patriots, now sleeping beneath the sod, that gave us by their 
 blood, at Island No. 10, Fort Pillow, Vicksburg, Port Hudson 
 and New Orleans, a free river to the bounding billows of the 
 ocean. Each succeeding year will add new laurels to their 
 fame ; and as the Grecians loved to ponder upon the valor of 
 those who fell at Thermopylae, so shall we, by chisel, brush y 
 harp and eloquent tongue, commemorate the glorious deeds of 
 the boys in blue, and transmit their names to generations yet 
 unborn. 
 
 The surviving soldiers of Missouri, and those who loved the 
 Union, can never forget Wilson Creek and the bravery of 
 Lyon, Lexington and glorious Mulligan, nor the daring march 
 of Sigel to Rolla. Patriots from the blue waters of the Rhine 
 and the green banks of the Shannon stood side by side with 
 the native sons of America in the conflict for freedom and law ; 
 and wherever the battle was fierce and deadly, there could be 
 seen the flashing sabre of Germania reflecting back the bris- 
 tling bayonets of Erin and Columbia. 
 
 The emancipation proclamation of the martyr Lincoln gave 
 to our arms the black warriors of the South, and on a hundred 
 battle-fields they won, by the price of their blood, the right to 
 perfect manhood. Let us not forget that the bondsman of yes- 
 terday is the freeman of to-day ; and while we strew roses on 
 the last resting-place of the blue and the gray, let us gener- 
 ously drop flowers on the grave of the black soldier who fell 
 for freedom and his native land. 
 
 While we decorate the graves of the soldier dead, let us not 
 forget their widows and orphans who gave all they held dear 
 to propitiate the demon of war. We must minister to the sup- 
 port of the one and the education of the other, and prove by 
 good works to the living that it is truly sweet to die for one's 
 country. 
 
 A scene during the late struggle I shall ever remember an 
 epitome of the whole war. It was in June, 1864, in front of 
 Kenesaw Mountain, Georgia. During the long, weary day 
 Sherman battled with Johnston, and step by step drove him 
 
174 
 
 A CHECKERED LltE. 
 
 from the field. My regiment was on the skirmish line, and 
 just as the sun bid good-bye to the tree-tops on the distant 
 mountain, a desperate fight ensued the winking stars and the 
 silvery moonlight lighting up the last encounter. Silence 
 and night soon hung around us. A few chosen comrades and 
 myself went to the front to reconnoitre. Between the con- 
 tending armies, in the dense underbrush of the forest, we dis- 
 covered two soldiers grappled in death, the struggling light of 
 the moon dancing upon the uniforms of the gray and the blue. 
 A hasty search could only discover that they were each about 
 twenty years of age, and nothing on their persons to tell the 
 story of their lives. We quickly and quietly fashioned a rude 
 grave, and, side by side, laid them to sleep until the trump of 
 the Archangel sounds the resurrection morn, when the blue 
 and the gray shall be crystalized into celestial white and dwell 
 together in blissful immortality. 
 
 " Slowly and sadly we laid them down. 
 
 From the field of their fame fresh and gory ; 
 We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, 
 
 But left them alone in their glory." 
 
 Who will care for these loved mounds when we are gone ? 
 Who will then strew roses and plant bright flowers ? Other pa- 
 triotic hands of brave men and fair women will take up the 
 roll of duty ; and even when all but liberty has perished from 
 the earth, the robin and the blue-bird, the jay and the mock- 
 ing-bird will warble at sunrise a reveille over the green sod 
 that wraps this sacred clay. Nature herself will deck the graves 
 of our fallen comrades, and the winds of heaven will chant a 
 requiem to their memory and kiss the loved spot where valor 
 sleeps. 
 
 Thousands of our dearly loved comrades rest in unknown 
 graves far away from the loved ones at home. They slumber 
 in a land of strangers, where the tears of love cannot moisten 
 the green shroud that mantles their ashes. But if no kind 
 hand is there to strew flowers, or loved eye to shed the tear of 
 sorrow, there is One that reigns among the eternal stars that 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. I75 
 
 daily floods the unknown grave with sunshine, and nightly 
 waters the budding wild flowers with dews from heaven. 
 
 To-day, thank God, we are all Americans, protected by the 
 same flag, representing one country and one destiny. We 
 have no North, no South, no East, no West \ naught but the 
 priceless heritage of Liberty and Union. Let our friendships 
 and interests be as lasting as the eternal hills, so that peace 
 and material prosperity shall crown our labor and spread the 
 cement of brotherly love and union from the surf-beaten shores 
 of the Carolinas to the golden boulders of California, and 
 from the lazy lagoons of Louisiana to the rock-bound coast of 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 " Let Summer send her golden sunbeams down, 
 
 In graceful salutations for the dead, 
 And Autumn's moving host of leaflets brown 
 Break ranks above the fallen soldier's head. 
 
 And we, survivors of the fearful strife, 
 While gathered here around this hallowed clay, 
 
 Let us anew pledge honor, fortune, life, 
 That from our flag no star shall pass away. 
 
 We reverently swear by all we love, 
 
 By all we are, and all we hope to be, 
 Yon starry flag man's steadfast friend shall prove, 
 
 And wave forever o'er the brave and free." 
 
 General John S. Marmaduke, of St. Louis, an ex-Confed- 
 erate officer, wrote me a letter on the philosophy and propriety 
 of keeping alive the memory of our dead heroes, who fought 
 for what each deemed right ; and as there is wisdom and pa- 
 triotism in what the gallant General says, I present the follow- 
 ing extracts : 
 
 ''This joint memorial ceremony Federal and ex-Confeder- 
 ate for the purpose of decorating the graves of the brave who 
 gave up their lives for what they deemed right, is to my mind 
 a wise, patriotic and beautiful act ; and that those who fought 
 under the blue, the victors, should invite those who fought un- 
 der the gray, the vanquished, to unite, and make this cere- 
 
176 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 mony a joint one for the dead of both armies, is as it should 
 be, and reflects a patriotic purpose creditable alike to their 
 head and heart, which I believe every man and woman who 
 were genuine Federals and Confederates will respond to with 
 their whole hearts. 
 
 Both sides should recognize that the Confederates surren- 
 dered because they were overpowered, and did not have men or 
 money enough to whip in the fight, and for no other reason. 
 That now and henceforth the men who worthily wore the 
 " gray" are ready and willing to march side by side with the 
 victors of the " blue," in bearing the bayonets and banners of 
 the United States to other victories ! 
 
 It is a dangerous folly for us to quarrel over the past ; let 
 that be buried, and let us go forward with our new-born nation. 
 Those who were nobly in earnest should feel a personal pride 
 in the army heroism of either side. It was American pluck, to 
 which each side contributed to an extent that challenged the 
 admiration of the world, and which the United States should 
 claim and hold as valued property. 
 
 Let these decoration ceremonies be free from all partisan sig- 
 nifications. Let them be the Nation's worship her floral 
 tribute to her brave dead ! ' ' 
 
 The sentiments engrafted in the foregoing paragraphs by 
 General Marmaduke are worthy of the brave and honest soul 
 that inspired them ; and if we are to live a thousand years as 
 one Republic, each integral part of the Nation must act for the 
 equality and liberty of the whole, leaving no scar of discrimi- 
 nation to irritate the body, or rankle in the soul. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 I MAKE AN EFFORT TO OBTAIN A FOREIGN MISSION. ORATION 
 
 AT AN EMANCIPATION CELEBRATION. 
 
 In the spring and summer of 1873, I conceived the idea that 
 I wanted a better place than the post of Revenue Agent. In 
 fact, like all great (?) men, I wished a foreign mission, where 
 the work would be light and the pay large. As I had performed 
 yeoman service during the Grant campaign, I applied to the 
 men who controlled political matters in Missouri, and received 
 the most cordial letters and recommendations to President 
 Grant, from which I select the following extracts. 
 
 Hon. William Patrick, United States District Attorney, said : 
 " I desire to bear testimony to Joyce's public and private services. In 
 the last campaign, he, as a member of the Republican Central Committee 
 of the State, as Corresponding Secretary of the Missouri Club, as a public 
 speaker and writer, rendered very valuable assistance to the Republican 
 ticket. Col. Joyce has made a faithful officer, and has always been prompt 
 and willing to give any information or perform any duty required by the 
 office. I have every confidence that the duties of any position in which he 
 may be placed will be performed by him with ability, integrity, and credit 
 to the administration." 
 
 George W. Fishbeck, one of the editors and proprietors of 
 the St. Louis Democrat, said : 
 
 " Please let me add my word in commendation of the eminent services 
 performed by Col. Joyce in this city and state during the canvass of last 
 year; and permit me to say that any promotion you may see fit to give him 
 will be most heartily approved by your friends in this city." 
 
 Gen. Isaac F. Shepard, the Appraiser of Customs for the 
 port of St. Louis, said : 
 
 " I have known Col. John A. Joyce personally for two years or more, 
 and have been associated with him in political matters quite intimately, 
 
 177 12 
 
I7 8 A CHECKERED LIfE. 
 
 During the last campaign, he was for a portion of the time a member of the 
 State Central Committee, and also Corresponding Secretary of the Missouri 
 Club. In his private as well as public capacity he has been an unwavering 
 friend of Republican principles and an unflinching devotee to your admin- 
 istration. He has more than a common culture, with many fine gifts, and 
 I cordially commend him to your favorable consideration in any contingency 
 that may occur to your Excellency to the advancement of his interests." 
 
 Hon. E. W. Fox, Surveyor and Collector of Customs for 
 St. Louis, and former Chairman of the Republican State Cen- 
 tral Committee, a gentleman of fine culture and ripe experi- 
 ence, said : 
 
 " I take great pleasure in presenting to your most favorable consideration, 
 Col. John A. Joyce, who, in addition to discharging with signal ability his 
 duties as Chief Clerk and Revenue Agent in the Supervisor's office, has 
 been one of the most active, intelligent and sagacious workers for the Re- 
 publican cause in Missouri. 
 
 As member of the State Central Committee, as Corresponding Secretary 
 of the Missouri Club, and as a constant contributor to the party press of the 
 state, he has well earned the confidence and best wishes of the true Repub- 
 licans of the Western States. 
 
 I heartily recommend him to advancement in the country's service, and 
 am sure that his talents and integrity eminently fit him to represent the Na- 
 tion at foreign posts. I feel assured that whatever position you may bestow 
 upon him, he will discharge his duty with credit to himself and honor 
 to his country." 
 
 Col. A. R. Easton, Assessor of Internal Revenue, said : 
 " During the recent campaign, Col. Joyce rendered valuable service to 
 your administration by his energy and sound judgment as a member of 
 the Republican State Central Committee, Secretary of the Missouri Club, 
 and writer for the press of this and other states. He is a young man 
 of superior ability, a good speaker and fine writer, and I am sure he will 
 serve the Government faithfully in any position for which he may be 
 selected.'' 
 
 Col. C. A. Newcomb, United States Marshal, said : 
 " I have known Col. Joyce for four years, and have been associated with 
 him personally and officially, and take great pleasure in bearing witness to 
 his efficiency as an officer and merit as a man. 
 
 No person connected with the Civil Service of the Government here has 
 been more watchful of its honor than he ; always quick to discover a wrong 
 or irregularity in the service, and equally prompt to apply the remedy. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. l jg 
 
 Col. Joyce is a man of fine culture and large business capacity. It would 
 be a great satisfaction to himself and his friends if he could be employed 
 in a more lucrative position than the one he now fills." 
 
 Hon. Chester H. Krum, ex-United States District Attorney, 
 and Judge of the Circuit Court of St. Louis, said : 
 
 " Republicans in this state have substantial reasons for feeling under obli- 
 gations to Col. Joyce for his industry, energy and zeal in harmonizing oppos- 
 ing elements, and thus presenting a united front to the political enemy. I 
 have yet to learn that a single act of omission can truthfully be charged to 
 Col. Joyce during the campaign of 1872. 
 
 During my own experience as United States Attorney for this Judicial 
 District, I had many occasions to remark the faithful discharge of Colonel 
 Joyce's duties as a revenue offier. Although he came here quite a stranger, 
 he soon gained a large acquaintance. Having had large experience in bu- 
 reau duties, he was well qualified to give, and freely gave, valuable assist- 
 ance to efforts made for the detection of crime and the enforcement of the 
 revenue laws. He was quick in expedients, and prompt in their execution. 
 To these qualities he added fearlessness and substantial business habits. 
 
 As I have left a field of service which I shall always look back upon 
 with pleasure as having been opened to me through your indulgence and 
 confidence, I beg leave to add my testimony to the well-deserved assurances 
 of Col. Joyce's fidelity, competency and zeal as an officer of the Revenue 
 Department, which he has won and received during his residence in this 
 state." 
 
 Hon. Chauncey I. Filley, ex-Postmaster of St. Louis, and a 
 noted political wire-worker, said : 
 
 " My acquaintance with Col. Joyce justifies me in saying that he has abil- 
 ities of moie than an ordinary character, which fit him for a better position 
 than he is now holding. He has been an active and judicious participator 
 in events here to promote the interests of the service and of the party, and 
 has always been ready in action and work, and otherwise; and since the 
 campaign has not allowed the grass to grow under his feet in matters which 
 eventuated in advancing the interests of the cause. 
 
 Col. Joyce rendered valuable service as Secretary of the Missouri Club, 
 as well as a member of the State Central Committee, and his work has 
 come under my personal observation. He is a ready and apt writer, and 
 has not been idle in that way ; and I commend him to your best consider- 
 ation." 
 
 In August, 1873, a change in the revenue laws made it nec- 
 essary for the collectors throughout the country to assume the 
 
-l So ^ CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 duties previously performed by assessors, thereby imposing ad- 
 ditional work upon them. Collector C. W. Ford, of St. Louis, 
 an intimate personal friend of Gen. Grant, was much annoyed 
 because the Department would not allow him proper and just 
 compensation in the premises. After his efforts had failed, he 
 applied to me, and in due time I convinced the revenue office 
 that Ford's application for extra compensation was just. The 
 following extract from a long letter shows his anxiety : 
 
 " I shall be under many obligations to you if you will put this letter 
 among your papers, and when you get to Washington bring the facts before 
 Commissioner Douglas, and get the proper allowance made. 
 
 Col. Easton, the late Assessor, says he received no pay for March, and 
 would be greatly obliged if you will look after it for him. 
 
 I get away from here Monday night, for Monroe, Mich., and will drop 
 you a line from there, to let you know when I go to Long Branch." 
 
 On the 2d of September, 1873, wnile Collector Ford was 
 receiving the hospitality of President Grant at his Long Branch 
 cottage, I received another letter, from which I extract the 
 following : 
 
 " I wrote you three letters to Boonville, N. Y., and the day before I 
 left Sackett's Harbor I telegraphed to Boonville to find your where- 
 abouts, and learned you were at the Fifth Avenue Hotel; but when I 
 applied there you were non est. I was sure I'd get you here, but nix. 
 You had gone to Washington, and are now on your way to St. Louis, 
 so I give up the chase. 
 
 I hope you have been successful in getting the Commissioner to make 
 me proper allowances. I don't know how long I may remain here, but 
 two or three days, I reckon, will find me on my way to New York." 
 
 I have several other letters from the late Captain Ford, but 
 as they refer mainly to matters of no interest to the public, I 
 omit them. In the latter part of October, 1873, Capt. Ford 
 visited Toledo to attend a meeting of the Army of the Ten- 
 nessee, and consult with Gen. Grant relative to his entering 
 the Cabinet as Secretary of the Interior. But fate broke the 
 last link in his life-chain on the 24th of October, 1873, and he 
 died in Chicago, from a severe cold contracted on his trip to 
 Toledo. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. jgr 
 
 Ford was a man of kind impulses. He had been for many 
 years agent of the United States Express Company, and per- 
 formed the duties of that important post with energy, capacity 
 and honesty ; and when President Grant called him to the 
 post of Collector of Internal Revenue, he brought the same 
 business principles to bear, making the best Collector that St. 
 Louis ever had. 
 
 I knew Ford intimately ; and while he would do any legit- 
 imate political thing to advance the cause of his old friend, 
 President Grant, I am absolutely convinced that he never, 
 either directly or indirectly, winked at or had knowledge of 
 any whiskey frauds on the revenue, although his confidence 
 may have been abused by his chief clerk and subordinates. 
 
 In August, 1873, I delivered the following oration before five 
 thousand colored people at St. Louis, on the occasion of their 
 emancipation celebration : 
 Fellow Citizens : 
 
 The emancipation of an enslaved race is a theme fit to be 
 couched in noble eloquence, monumented in bronze, and sent 
 to the latest posterity in poetry and song. From the earliest 
 dawn of creation, when the morning stars sang together, human 
 thoughts and human action lingered at the shrine of freedom; 
 and even in the night of Egyptian darkness and bondage, the 
 sweet paeans of liberty sounded in the soul of man and found 
 a responsive echo in the celestial realms of the angels. 
 
 God, in his infinite wisdom, created all men free, and it 
 was only tyrants who could forge the chains of slavery and find 
 consolation in the sharp music of the lash. Ignorance, sel- 
 fishness and fear make a man a tyrant, while intelligence, be- 
 nevolence and love fit him for the priceless blessings of freedom 
 in this world, and open a way to his eternal home beyond the 
 sun and stars. 
 
 The celebration of this day will bring vividly to your mind 
 the trials and tribulations and victories achieved by your race 
 in the West India Islands, where the genius of Toussaint 
 
I %2 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 L'Ouverture held at bay the cruelties of the proud Spaniard, 
 and even foiled the expectations of the great Napoleon. The 
 pen and voice of L'Ouverture exposed the flimsy pretense of 
 slavery, and his flashing sword cut in twain the Gordian knot of 
 despotism and initiated the first successful emancipation move- 
 ment. To-day, in the mountain cabins of Hayti and San Do- 
 mingo, the name of this apostle of liberty is sounded with love 
 and veneration, and as the circling years go by, the fame of 
 Toussaint L'Ouverture will grow brighter until every human 
 heart pulsates with the sublime sentiments that actuated him in 
 life, and made him a conqueror even in the torturing hours of 
 death in the dungeon of the tyrant. The clanking chains of 
 Napoleon and the excruciating pangs of cold, thirst and hun- 
 ger could not subdue the proud spirit of the black warrior and 
 statesman. His free soul and glorious nature triumphed over 
 the grave ; and long after you and I are consigned to the dust 
 from whence we sprung, this hero of San Domingo will live in 
 monumental greatness, and inspire the world with his example. 
 L'Ouverture laid broad and deep the foundation of the Re- 
 public of San Domingo, and the day is near when the stars and 
 stripes shall float over the land he died to save. God will 
 work in his mysterious way, until the continent of Africa shall 
 be disenthralled from the darkness of ignorance and slavery, 
 when one universal republic shall bless the world and realize 
 the fondest hopes of the human heart. The wail of oppressed 
 humanity comes sounding down the centuries ; the cry for lib- 
 erty a^.d light is wafted to us in every breeze that blows from 
 ocean's boundless shores. 
 
 "Hark ! our brothers call, 
 
 From Greenland's icy mountains, 
 
 From India's coral strand ; 
 
 Where Afric's sunny fountains 
 
 Roll down their golden sand. 
 
 From many an ancient river ; 
 
 From many a palmy plain ; 
 
 They call us to deliver 
 
 Their land from error's chain." 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 183 
 
 Iii the year 1620, two hundred and fifty-three years ago, forty- 
 five slaves were landed on the James River in Virginia, forced 
 from the coast of Africa and sold into bondage to cultivate the 
 plantations of the Old Dominion. From this < ' direful spring' ' 
 Columbia has suffered more unnumbered woes than Achilles' 
 wrath brought to Greece. I can see now in the jungles of 
 Africa the fierce spirit of Caucasian cupidity hunting down the 
 first load of human freight. The simple life of the black man 
 in his native wilds knew no master but his God, pictured in 
 the rising sun, and smiling in the blue waters of the Nile and 
 Ganges. 
 
 I see that fatal ship stealing quietly out from the golden 
 sands of Africa, speeding on its way to America freighted with 
 human misery and terrible grief. Would to God that she had 
 sunk to the bottom of the ocean, and buried forever even the 
 just and the unjust, ere her prow touched the shores of Vir- 
 ginia, and began that reign of slavery that cursed our country 
 and culminated in the great conflict of 1861. 
 
 Great crimes deserve great punishment, and fearful has been 
 our retribution. Two millions of human lives were sacrificed 
 to purchase the emancipation of American slavery, and to-day 
 the tears of the widows and orphans flow at the mention of 
 those loved hearts that went down into the dark valley of death 
 in the musical whiz of the Minie rifle, or the roar of the Rod- 
 man gun ! 
 
 The colored people of this nation have great cause to boast 
 of the deeds of their heroes. The first blood shed in the 
 American revolution was that of the slave Crispus Attucks, of 
 Boston, Massachusetts. In the massacre of March 5, 1770, in 
 an assault upon the British soldiers he fell for freedom and his 
 native land. The blood of the slave has nourished the tree of 
 liberty, and under its wide-spreading branches you sit to-day 
 basking in the sunshine of equal rights, proud of your citizen- 
 ship and ready at all times to strike for 
 
 " The land of the free 
 And the home of the brave !" 
 
1 84 ^ CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 The freedom of American slavery required long years of ed 
 ucation and toil. Adams, Jefferson, Clay, Garrison and Phil- 
 lips dug from the mountains the crude ore of liberty ; but it 
 was left to Lincoln, Seward and Grant to put it through the 
 furnace-heat of the rebellion and forge out the trip-hammer 
 that knocked forever the rusty shackles from four millions of 
 slaves. The emancipation proclamation of Abraham Lincoln 
 broke the back of the rebellion. Its thunder-tones will go 
 sounding down the ages, and the lightning flash of each sen- 
 tence will irradiate the rugged road of the human race and 
 light up the darkest nooks of imperial government. The mem- 
 ory of Lincoln will live as long as human hearts pulsate with 
 love of liberty. 
 
 Rooted firmly and deeply in the rifted rocks of time shall be 
 his temple of everlasting glory. The mountains of Columbia 
 lifting their heads into the boundless blue, and the murmuring 
 rivers of the continent, shall mingle forever with his fame ; but 
 the noblest monument to his memory are the four million 
 shackles struck from the galling limbs of the bondsman. Al- 
 ready the lesson of the proclamation has found its way to the 
 plains of the Amazon and the bleak regions of the Ural moun- 
 tains, where twenty million Russian serfs breathe at last the 
 pure air of freedom. So shall the example of the immortal 
 Lincoln continue to bless the human race, until, crowned with 
 the diadem of liberty, we shall acknowledge the image of God 
 in all men, and pluck from the calendar of our hearts the de- 
 mon of caste and persecution. 
 
 From my earliest years I hated the very name of slavery. 
 The word burned upon my tongue and blistered in my heart. 
 Even as a boy, in the land of Clay, I sighed for the hour to 
 strike at the hell-born iniquity ; and when the clash of arms 
 came I went out to battle for the perpetuation of the Union 
 and the freedom of the slave. The first shot at Sumter sounded 
 the death-knell of slavery, and it will echo in the hearts of 
 generations yet unborn, until every land and clime hears the 
 sweet songs of liberty, and joins in the chorus of equality. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 185 
 
 Your own stout arms and valiant hearts struggled in the 
 cause of freedom. Port Hudson and Fort Wagner will long 
 be remembered as the bloodiest battles of the war, where the 
 First Louisiana and Fifty-fourth Massachusetts colored regi- 
 ments fought with terrible desperation, and made a page in 
 American history that will transmit the glory of the black 
 warrior to the last symbol of recorded time. 
 
 Since the close of the war the behavior of the black man has 
 been truly remarkable, for never in the history of the world 
 did men come up so quick out of the dark forests of ignorance 
 and bondage, and show such capacity for civil life and consti- 
 tutional freedom. Lift up your eyes and hearts to God, and 
 never despair. Seven centuries ago the Caucasian race was 
 wandering half naked in the black forests of Germany, and th 
 Scots and Picts of proud Albion were little above the wild ani- 
 mals that furnished their food and raiment. 
 
 In the Senate of the United States and lower house of Con- 
 gress, representatives of your race have sat side by side with 
 white men, and have maintained their independence and man- 
 hood. To-day you. stand upon the same political platform 
 with the greatest and best of your white fellow citizens, and 
 even those who once held you in bondage have become rec- 
 onciled to the logic of events. Forget, if you can, the cruel- 
 ties of slavery in the gratitude you owe the nation for clothing 
 you with the inestimable power of the ballot 
 'A weapon that comes down as still 
 
 As snow-flakes falling on the sod, 
 And executes a freeman's will 
 
 As lightning does the will of God ! " 
 
 In conclusion, let me impress upon you the great importance 
 of temperance, economy, education and peaceful conduct to- 
 ward your neighbors. Whether as laborers, mechanics, mer- 
 chants or professionals, you must rely upon yourselves, and by 
 untiring perseverance and honesty procure a home, where the 
 blessings of peace and prosperity shall crown the evening of 
 life, and give you a taste of that immortal happiness found only 
 in the beautiful land around the white throne of Jehovah, where 
 the angels always sing and the light of heaven shines eternal. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE PACIFIC COAST. EXPERIENCES AND INCIDENTS IN CALIFOR- 
 NIA, OREGON AND WASHINGTON TERRITORY. 
 
 In the spring of 1874, I received orders from Hon. J. W. 
 Douglas, Commissioner of Internal Revenue, to proceed to 
 San Francisco and make a thorough investigation of the oper- 
 ation and enforcement of the revenue laws on the Pacific Coast. 
 Frequent complaints came from San Francisco that the distil- 
 lers and rectifiers of that locality were defrauding the Govern- 
 ment out of taxes on spirits, and that some of the revenue 
 officers were in collusion with the whiskey men. 
 
 Several revenue agents had been sent to the Pacific Coast, 
 from time to time, but their efforts to bring the violators of 
 law to justice proved abortive, because, they alleged, nearly 
 alFof the United States officers in San Francisco were more o*" 
 less in collusion with the rich distillers and whiskey-traders, 
 who put up their money in political campaigns to make and 
 unmake congressmen, governors and senators. Be this as it 
 may, the so-called Pacific Coast Whiskey -Ring were "too 
 smart" for the "minions" of Uncle Sam, and they only went 
 in the front door of the United States Court with a wink and 
 a laugh at the prosecution, to come out at the back door with 
 their satirical tongues wagging defiance at the foiled revenue 
 agents. 
 
 I made a careful investigation of the working of the revenue 
 laws on the Pacific Coast, embracing the collection districts 
 of California, Oregon and Washington Territory. For nearly 
 three months I traveled through the country towns and cities 
 of the Coast, taking memoranda of my investigations ; and 
 
 1 86 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 187 
 
 from the orange groves of Los Angeles to the falls of the Co- 
 lum-bia River beyond Portland, and on to the solemn waters 
 of Puget Sound, through the pine lumber region of Tacoma r 
 Seattle and Port Townsend. I left no subject of revenue un- 
 touched, examining offices and business houses wherever I went. 
 Supervisor L. M. Foulke accompanied me in my tour, and 
 rendered every assistance I desired. He was a man of very 
 few words, but with a fine vein of humor. 
 
 After a full investigation in Oregon and Washington Terri- 
 tory, instead of taking an ocean steamer at Portland for Sai> 
 Francisco, I took the cars for Roseburg, and thence overland 
 by stage a distance of three hundred miles through the Pitt 
 and Snake River valleys to the golden gulches of California. 
 The ride was one of the most romantic I ever had. Wind- 
 ing around the crest of some rugged crag toppling far above 
 Snake River, as the morning sun bathes the world in glory r 
 you may gaze away for a hundred miles through the transpar- 
 ent atmosphere, and see the blue peaks of the tallest mount- 
 ains capped with eternal snow above the floating clouds, like 
 Titanic ghosts of buried centuries. Then shorten the vision 
 to hill, crag, valley, tree, water-fall, blooming wild flowers, 
 and warbling birds, together with the downward rush of the 
 break-neck stage, and you have a sensation of life and romance 
 that spurns danger, and sweeps away like a mountain eagle 
 among the peaks of his native home. 
 
 I arrived in due time at San Francisco, and wrote up my 
 investigations, making a voluminous report in detail of the 
 violations of law discovered during my examination. If the 
 Commissioner of Internal Revenue ever succeeded in bringing 
 them to justice and punishment, I never heard of it ; and per- 
 haps, after all, the prophecy of De Young, of the Chronicle^ 
 was fulfilled that my official report would not amount to any- 
 thing, but would be ignored and pigeon-holed in the interests 
 of powerful politicians. However, I performed my duty, and 
 left the balance to the consideration of superior officers in the 
 Treasury Department. 
 
1 88 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 A breakfast at the Cliff House is one of the memorable 
 milestones of a trip to the Pacific Coast. I took the reins of 
 a double team, and accompanied by a beautiful and intelligent 
 lady from the East, who was stopping at the Grand Hotel, 
 proceeded to the celebrated resort. Out Market Street, by the 
 old Mission, through the park, over a succession of rolling 
 hills, up winding roads, and along precipitous crags to the top 
 of mountain spurs that overlooked the Ocean House and the 
 golden sand-hills that sparkled down the coast as far as the eye 
 could reach, we rode in the exhilarating air. On the crest of 
 the highest hill of those that margin San Francisco with an 
 emerald frame, I looked back in amazement at the silent city 
 rising from its silver couch in the sparkling waters of the beau- 
 tiful bay. 
 
 On we went, by winding road, sandy foot-hills, and yellow 
 beach, until the tumbling waters of the Pacific dashed in mu- 
 sical spray against the rocky base of the Cliff House. 
 
 After a refreshing breakfast, we turned our faces towards the 
 city, over a broad gravel road as smooth as a floor, rising and 
 falling with undulating swells like the broad-backed billows of 
 the ocean. Toward the right is the Catholic cemetery, nestled 
 among the foot-hills, and on the left Lone Mountain Cemetery, 
 overlooking San Francisco, with a glimpse of bay and ocean 
 in the shining distance. 
 
 Lone Mountain shadows the graves of Senator Broderick 
 and General Baker ; one the victim of Duke Guinn, Terry and 
 slavery, while the other lost his noble life at Ball's Bluff fight- 
 ing for Freedom and the Union. They rest almost side by 
 side. Many pilgrims from home and foreign lands will love 
 to dwell upon the memory of these brave patriots who fell for 
 Liberty ; and as long as the rivers and mountains of Oregon 
 embrace the golden streams of California, Baker and Broder- 
 ick will live in the hearts of the good and true, shining as 
 beacon lights to irradiate the pathway of progress. 
 
 "Not in vain the distant beacons; forward, forward, let us range ! 
 Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change." 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. ^9 
 
 Previous to leaving St. Louis for the Pacific coast, I prom- 
 ised the editor to write a series of descriptive letters for the 
 Globe-Democrat; and, as they dropped fresh from my pen, I 
 engraft them in this volume just as they were written, believing 
 that the reader will be better pleased than if I revamped them 
 now from the encrusted fields of memory. 
 
 SCENES AND INCIDENTS OF A TRIP TO THE PACIFIC. 
 Correspondence St. Louis Globe- Democrat. 
 
 San Francisco, CaL, March 25, 1864. 
 
 The readers of the Globe have no doubt often wished them- 
 selves on the golden sands of the Pacific ; and to those who 
 have never made the overland trip, I hereby extend an invita- 
 tion, insisting only that their imagination and good will shall 
 follow me through the serpentine windings of the Union and 
 Central Pacific Railroads over plains, hills, mountains and dash- 
 ing streams, where nature plays its grandest part. 
 
 Remember now, gentle reader, before starting, that " touch 
 and go' ' is our programme, and pleasure and profit our motive 
 power. With ticket and trunk-check in our pocket we step 
 into one of Pullman's fine palace coaches at St. Louis, on a 
 Sabbath evening, and soon we are wending our way toward 
 Kansas City, arriving Monday morning, connecting with the 
 Missouri Valley and Council Bluffs Railroad, which deposits 
 us safely that night in Omaha, where, at the Grand Central 
 Hotel, we feast and rest until the morning sun warns us that 
 the Union Pacific train waits not for laggards. Our experience 
 in the late unpleasantness prompts the necessity of "three days' 
 rations in haversack," ready to march or starve (?) at a mo- 
 ment's warning. At n o'clock in the morning, promptly, 
 the overland train moves out of the depot and heads off for the 
 West, and, as we turn over the bluffs of Omaha, bid good-bye 
 and give a last fond look at the " Big Muddy" as it wends its 
 way to the Gulf. Onward we move over the rich prairie lands 
 of Nebraska, stopping occasionally at way stations for mails and 
 passengers. Near Grand Island, one hundred and fifty-four 
 
1 90 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 miles from Omaha, where the train stops for supper, we behold 
 a splendid prairie fire, just as the sun sinks behind the western 
 hills. No one who has not witnessed it can appreciate the 
 .grandeur and fearful sublimity of a general prairie fire. Far 
 as the eye can reach, long waves of flame, like molten metal, 
 crackle and skip at the sport of the wild winds, filling the air 
 with dense clouds of smoke, rushing on like the wild breakers 
 of the ocean until dashed to pieces and extinguished against 
 some bare bluff or barren crag. 
 
 A good night's rest brings us to Sidney, Neb., for breakfast, 
 and after a splendid run over undulating plains, we reach 
 Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, a central distributing point for 
 Colorado and New Mexico. Dinner is served up in good style 
 here, and the overland argonauts continue their journey with 
 light hearts and full stomachs. About 3 o'clock in the after- 
 noon we arrived at Sherman, named in honor of our dashing 
 general who cracked the shell of the rebellion and marched 
 his "bummers" in triumph to the sea. This is the highest 
 point on the road, attaining an altitude of eight thousand two 
 hundred and forty-two feet above the level of the ocean. To 
 the south, one hundred and sixty-five miles, is Pike's Peak, and 
 to the southwest, seventy-five miles is Long's Peak, both visible. 
 
 From Sherman we dashed away over rough hills, narrow 
 canons and high bridges spanning terrible gorges, until Lara- 
 mie City is gained, where supper is in waiting. This is the 
 town where the first woman jury in the United States was im- 
 paneled to try one of the opposite sex for theft, murder, or 
 some other mild form of crime, and to their credit be it said 
 the " Lord of Creation" was convicted on every count ! Who 
 will say that woman acts from sympathy and not from a spirit 
 of justice, after this showing ? 
 
 Rushing out of Laramie, with tne stars and stripes fluttering 
 over Fort Sanders in the distance, we enter the Laramie plains, 
 extending sixty miles towards the west, and twenty miles to- 
 ward the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains. This valley is 
 one of the finest grazing sections in the country, and a hundred 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 19 1 
 
 thousand head of cattle can easily find food and water along 
 the tortuous windings of the Larainie River. For ten miles we 
 struggle on towards Sheep Mountain, twelve thousand feet 
 above the level of the sea. Here the Laramie River takes its 
 rise among the gloomy gorges of dense forest, overhanging 
 rocks, and eternal springs. Deer, bear, mountain lions and 
 wild sheep range the rugged sides of the Black Hills and 
 mountain peaks. 
 
 The traveler will notice, from Laramie on, that the sons of the 
 Celestial empire work the railroad, and cut up old mother earth 
 for the benefit of the Yankee nation. See one John Chinaman 
 and you see them all. Dark, almond eyes, round expression- 
 less face, shaved head, blouse, boxed shoes, and the eternal 
 pig-tail, make up the sum and substance of this patient, untir- 
 ing child of Confucius. While they are not of us or with us 
 in make and education, let us consider that they are human, 
 and long before our double-storied Caucasian head learned its 
 letters the Chinese wrote and taught the eternal justice of doing 
 to others as you would they should do to you. 
 
 Night has passed, and we draw up in the early morning at 
 Green River Station, where a good breakfast greets the wan- 
 derer. We continue on the Green River, which takes its rise 
 in the Wind River Mountains and empties into the Colorado, 
 one hundred and fifty miles from the station. On we go to- 
 wards Fort Bridger, which was established in 1858, by General 
 A. S. Johnston, who suffered so much with his little army in the 
 " scrimmage" with Brigham Young. The fort was named af- 
 ter Jim Bridger, an old hunter and trapper who lived in this 
 region for thirty years, and who, I am informed, now resides 
 in St. Louis. The iron horse is dashing away towards Evans- 
 ton, where dinner makes glad the heart of the traveler. Deer, 
 elk and antelope abound in this region, and from the car win- 
 dow I behold a large drove of the latter, more than fifty in 
 number, quietly ranging and grazing within gun-shot of the 
 train. (Rodman gun.) We now come to the wilds of Echo 
 Canon, where the shrill whistle of the locomotive finds 
 
192 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 tongue in rocky crags that answer back the defiant shriek. 
 We clatter and dash through tunnels, over break-neck trestle 
 bridges, until the wilds of Weber River usher us into the re- 
 nowned Weber Canon, one of the grandest sights on the road. 
 For more than thirty miles the river rushes foaming and boil- 
 ing between two mountain walls, which shut in the landscape 
 on either side. Frequently the torrent leaps over some huge 
 rock that has fallen into the deep, dark chasm from the tower- 
 ing cliff. For over six miles the fettered stream dashes down 
 through the narrows where the road-bed is cut out of the solid 
 rock, and at one point, where the old emigrant road crossed 
 the gorge, is so narrow that the torrent has worn its bed into 
 the form of a crooked S or Z where you would naturally imag- 
 ine that its rush must cease or sink altogether into the bowels 
 of the earth ; but a few miles further on it passes out into the 
 plains as placid and clear as if no struggle had taken place. 
 As we emerge from the" canon, the celebrated Thousand-mile 
 Tree is passed, marking the distance from Omaha. This is a 
 grand old pine, that has long weathered the storm, and shel- 
 tered by its wide-spreading branches the red rover of the plains 
 and the lonely emigrant on his toilsome way to the land of 
 gold. Here the Mormon settlements began to appear, and 
 the followers of Brigham utilized every foot of valley land, rear- 
 ing thereon their household gods with remarkable thrift 
 
 A.t dusk we reach Ogden, the terminus of the Union Pacific 
 Railroad, where we change cars for the Central Pacific, and 
 those who desire can run up thirty-eight miles to Salt Lake, 
 and pay homage to B. Young & Co., which is a strong firm in 
 this region. "All aboard for San Francisco," 882 miles dis- 
 tant, prompts the tourist to take his place in the silver palace 
 sleeping cars. On we go now past Corinne, through the Great 
 American Desert, sixty miles square, where the eye fails to see 
 i green shrub, and only alkali wastes of gray sandstone meet 
 the vision. There are many evidences that this tract of coun- 
 try was once the bed of an inland sea. In the early morning 
 Pilot Peak, an old emigrant landmark, meets the view, and 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 193 
 
 passing on to Toano, where we lay snow-bound for six hours, 
 we strike down upon the head waters of the Humboldt River 
 through Osino Canon, a wild, rocky region, where bunches 
 of sage grass and stunted shrubs grapple with the mountain 
 sides. 
 
 Elko, Nevada, is reached for breakfast. It is the center of 
 a vast silver mining country, including the White Pine region. 
 Humboldt Canon is in sight a few miles from Carlin, and 
 standing on the platform, we wonder how the train can ever 
 get through the mountains. The Humboldt River rolls at our 
 feet, tossed and churned in its rocky road. On we glide to- 
 wards Humboldt, where good meals are furnished, then to Hot 
 Springs, down Truckee River to Verdi, over the line to Cali- 
 fornia. Seven and fourteen miles from Truckee City are Don- 
 ner and Tahoe Lakes. I would like to linger here, and tell 
 you all about the Donner party and the matchless suffering 
 they endured in the winter of 1864, on the borders of this re- 
 nowned lake. 
 
 They were sixteen in number, bound from Illinois to the 
 land of gold. A long and extremely heavy snow-storm over- 
 took them. Mr. Donner, his wife and a German proposed to 
 remain on the lake and let his children and the other emigrants 
 endeavor to cross the mountains, expecting, when the storm 
 subsided, to meet them in the Sacramento Valley. The main 
 party crossed the mountain safely, but poor Donner and his 
 wife, the bold pioneers, died of their sufferings. 
 
 From Truckee City we journeyed on to the summit of the 
 Sierra Nevada Mountains, and such another serpentine climb 
 there is not on the continent. The road for thirty miles is 
 covered with snow-sheds, through which the train pushes. Just 
 think of a continuous tunnel of that length, with now and then 
 a ray of light blinding the eyes, and you have some idea of 
 snow-sheds. At Summit Station we breakfasted on delicious 
 trout, caught in the lakes and streams of the surrounding mount- 
 aims ; this, too, in an eating - house covered by sheds and 
 twenty-five feet o snow ! 
 
 13 
 
! 94 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Down the mountains we dash at break-neck speed, through 
 Emigrant Gap, Dutch Flat and Gold Run, when, soon after, 
 Cape Horn looms up in sight, and the gold mines of California 
 meet the view wherever we turn. Chinese cabins and miners' 
 huts peep out from every nook and gorge. On the iQth of 
 January, 1848, near Placerville, El Dorado County, the first 
 gold was discovered by one J. W. Marshall, in the mill-race of 
 the noted General Sutter. From this discovery has grown the 
 greatness and wealth of the Pacific coast, which has given our 
 country a leading position among the nations. The gold-hunt- 
 ers from every state in the Union have been here to try their 
 luck, and while hundreds have grown rich and settled in the 
 beautiful valleys of this state, thousands and tens of thousands 
 gave up the ghost in their overland tramp, or died alone and 
 neglected in their unprofitable search among the crags and foot- 
 hills of the coast range and Sierras. 
 
 Rounding Cape Horn, a bold, sharp peak, we look perpen- 
 dicularly 3,000 feet below to the golden stream that flows at 
 the base of the crag, like a variegated ribbon in a green field. 
 In the distance is the thriving town of Colfax, named after our 
 ex-Vice-President, and far away to the north-west is Mount 
 Shasta, overlooking the waters of the Pacific Ocean. A short 
 run brings us into the Sacramento valley, and right ahead can 
 be seen the city of Sacramento. The sudden change from the 
 region of ice and snow to the balmy breezes of the tropics, 
 where violets and buttercups gladden the eye, and lilies grow 
 in the open air, can be felt, but not described. Stopping but 
 ten minutes at Sacramento, we move on toward San Francisco 
 and the Golden Gate. Now we dash down the Sacramento 
 valley, with Oakland and San Francisco before us, and the 
 Sierra Nevada behind us. 
 
 Out into the bay, over the extended wharf, the train heads 
 towards Goat Island, and the engine blows its last whistle for 
 "down brakes" at San Francisco, where the long rows of gas- 
 lights across the water wink a kind invitation to the weary pil- 
 grim, who slumbers his first night in the city of seventy-seven 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 195 
 
 hills. A large and commodious ferry-boat lies in waiting to 
 carry us over the bonnie blue bay, and having escaped with our 
 lives and our pocket-books from the infernal importunities of 
 hotel runners and hackmen, we are snugly located at the Grand 
 Hotel, six days' ride from home. 
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT THE EARLY HISTORY OF SAN FRANCISCO. 
 :Special Correspondence of the St. Louis Globe. 
 
 San Francisco, Cal., April 25th, 1874. 
 
 Twenty-five years ago this city was but a straggling village, 
 containing only a few miners and their huts and tents scattered 
 along the bay, among the sand hills. The Indian, Mexican 
 and Spaniard had long ranged the coast mountains and the 
 waters of San Francisco Bay, and the Golden Gate had re- 
 sounded to the music of the mission bells of the Castillian race 
 nearly a hundred years before the Yankee nation poured out 
 its dashing warriors and gold-hunters amid the Sierra Nevada 
 Mountains. To-day San Francisco boasts of its two hundred 
 thousand population, assembled from every clime on earth, 
 embracing the most daring spirits of every race, and dashing 
 forward with that indomitable perseverance and manly pluck 
 that has made the Golden State the brightest gem in the coro- 
 net of Columbia. Ships of every nation load and unload their 
 rich freights here at the back door of the Union ; and while 
 New York is the metropolitan city of the nation, and St. Louis 
 looms up as the Future Great City of the World, San Francisco, 
 the representative of California, puts in a claim for the finest 
 harbor, the richest mines, minerals and mountains, the biggest 
 grain-fields forty miles by twelve the grandest scenery, the 
 fastest women, and the largest and smartest men on top of dirt ! 
 If you don't believe what I say, ask any one of the " Forty- 
 Niners" who cross your pathway on Montgomery or California 
 streets. They will tell more than I can imagine of the won- 
 derful past and grand future in store for all good Californians. 
 I am inclined to encourage the pride of these whole-souled 
 people ; for, seeming blessed, "they grow to what they seem." 
 
I 9 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Everything here is on the broad gauge. The smallest boot- 
 black bores with a big auger, and gimlets are never used ex- 
 cept by us wandering, benighted Arabs east of the mountains. 
 Go along any of the thoroughfares of this rushing city, and 
 you will see such portentous signs as "The Oriental Boot- 
 black," the "Pacific Peanut Peddler," the "Celestial Wash- 
 stand," the "Empire Laundry," and the "Occidental Oyster 
 Depot." When such big-sounding names are used by the 
 small fry, you can imagine how the bankers, brokers and mer- 
 chants inflate their business, although financial inflation here is 
 tabooed by every man of sense. 
 
 California street is the Wall street of this coast. There you 
 daily see the maddening rush for gold young and old, rich 
 and poor, struggling for the shining dust. There on the cor- 
 ner stands a shrewd man who made a million out of "Belcher," 
 and his friend across the street lost a million on the same silver 
 mine. Here is the sharper who induced the rich banker to invest 
 in the diamond mine of Arizona, and there goes the banker 
 that was taken in. There is the man who buys up all the wheat 
 on the Pacific coast and bulls the Liverpool market, while his 
 friend against the lamp-post manufactures and sells all the Pio- 
 neer wine and brandy of California. You would not think 
 that the little red-faced, red-nosed, gray-haired man biting his 
 finger nails, on the curbstone, made a half a million last week 
 on " Crown Point." No, he lost all he invested, and like a 
 shark waits for some gudgeon to get even on. 
 
 There comes Ralston, the president of the Bank of Califor- 
 nia, a man of extraordinary pluck and off-hand venture. He 
 is about forty years old, I believe, has a good address, a con- 
 stitution like an army mule, and an iron nerve. Ralston is one 
 of the pushing spirits of the Pacific coast. His generosity is 
 unbounded, and his hand and heart are ever open to the poor 
 and unfortunate. Years ago he was clerk on a Mississippi 
 steamboat, and many of the business men of your city remem- 
 ber him as a dashing young blood who was always ready to 
 work, and never absent from roll-call. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 197 
 
 A trip to "Belmont," the home of Mr. Ralston, situated 
 among the coast foot-hills, is something to be remembered by 
 tourists who are out in the world for pleasure and information. 
 
 It was no uncommon thing for Ralston, with his party of 
 friends and his "four in hand," to drive to Belmont, twenty- 
 five miles away, in two hours. Sometimes, when the train lag- 
 ged for passengers, the financial king with his team would 
 beat the locomotive, and enter the precincts of his fairy home 
 .as the engineer whistled ' ' down brakes. ' ' Two hundred guests 
 could be accommodated at his hospitable board, where fruits, 
 flowers, flowing wine, singing birds and instrumental music 
 made the heart and soul imagine that some bright enchantress 
 with her magic wand had called into celestial life the tropical 
 romance of Belmont. 
 
 Scattered to-day in every land and clime are the guests of 
 Belmont, and as the mind of the traveler turns back over the 
 checkered road he has passed, his heart will often linger with 
 pride and love upon the memory of the royal hand that dis- 
 pensed romantic pleasures at that renowned home among the 
 golden sands of California. 
 
 There are more than twenty millionaires in San Francisco, 
 all having arrived on the coast poor and friendless, and many 
 are the strange tales you hear about the great fortunes won and 
 lost at the point of the pick, or the turn of the last trump not 
 Gabriel's. 
 
 The city is progressing rapidly, new buildings going up daily, 
 like new wine injected into old bottles. Speaking of wine, 
 this state will in time furnish all the pure wine and brandy con- 
 sumed in the United States, always excepting ike Cook and his 
 "Imperial" fluid, which has become so entangled with the 
 growth of Missouri that it is part and parcel of our natural ex- 
 istence. 
 
 San Francisco by gas-light " takes the rag off the bush." In 
 company with the chief of police, T. G. Cockrill, this wander- 
 ing Arab viewed the elephant and saw where the giraffe came 
 in. Cockrill was formerly from Missouri, and claims relation- 
 
198 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 ship with Colonel Crisp, who, with the assistance of Hutchins, 
 the good, preserves the virtue of the Evening Dispatch, and 
 purifies the political atmosphere of St. Louis. But Cockrill is 
 not responsible for his relations, and I can afford to accompany 
 him through the dark haunts of this city. Down Montgomery 
 to California, up Kearney and Dupont to Jackson street, and 
 into the Chinese theater we go, where the painted Celestial, 
 with his Dolly Varden stage costume, squeals out an unearthly 
 noise in his operatic contortions, and causes the stranger to 
 wonder whether he is in a lunatic asylum, being entertained by 
 the maudlin mimicry of maniacs. After looking about for a 
 few moments upon the numerous pig-tails hanging to dilapi- 
 dated pumpkin-heads gazing with a look of inanity upon the 
 stage stock, we withdrew to a dark alley near by, and being 
 reinforced by Officer Schimp, proceeded to inspect the lower 
 depths of Chinese infamy. Down two flights of stairs, through 
 the sinuosities of inferno equaling that of Dante, we were ush- 
 ered into a small room, with six bunks against the walls, where 
 " John" was inhaling the aromatic perfumery of opium with a 
 zest that made my Christian stomach weaken and long for the 
 pure air of the upper world. In this den were reclining six 
 Celestials, puffing and blowing away their poor existence. I 
 asked the policeman regarding the occupation of these beauti- 
 ful dreamers, and with a knowing twinkle in his eye, he replied 
 that they were very careful, industrious men, who could not 
 see anything go to waste, and in the lonely hours of midnight 
 sallied out to take care of such property as their neighbors had 
 left unlocked. We immediately saw that the " dark ways" of 
 the Heathen Chinee bore a strong resemblance to the illustri- 
 ous customs of the Caucasian, and, having but a small purse, we 
 " passed out" into the street. We had often heard of the al- 
 mond-eyed daughters of Confucius, and could not resist the im- 
 portunities of the " Chief" to gaze upon the beauties of a 
 harem that would have made Mrs. Lalla Rookh, Hinda and old 
 Mr. Moore look sick. The new woman's movement being 
 now all the rage, we lingered a moment in search of informa- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. ! 99 
 
 tion, that we might contrast the beauties of the far East with 
 the bouncing belles of the West. The " Chief aided us in 
 examining the peculiarities of the Celestial sisters, but I must 
 confess, with a feeling of sadness, that what I saw did not come 
 up to my expectations, and I retired from the scene in favor of 
 anything that will make women better and men truer and more 
 generous to the weaker sex. We traveled along to " Barbary 
 Coast," where the " hoodlums," or rowdies, make night hide- 
 ous with their drunken brawls. Into the cellar dance-house 
 we peeped, and saw men and women swearing, talking, danc- 
 ing, drinking, and fighting their way through those desperate 
 dens. Scarcely a night passes but some poor drunken sot is 
 robbed or murdered in these vile haunts, which are in collu- 
 sion with the twenty-five cent lodging houses that skirt the dark 
 alleys of murder row. 
 
 While I thus show the dark side of San Francisco, there are, 
 thank God, pure and happy homes looming up all round, where 
 virtue and intelligence reign supreme, and the hearthstone 
 blazes with a hospitable light for the worthy stranger. 
 
 Chief Cockrill pointed out tome some of the finest mansions 
 on the coast, surrounded with evergreens and sitting upon ter- 
 raced hills overlooking the shining waters of the bay. Well 
 it is for the people of the city that they are blessed with a chief 
 of police who is in every respect a natural gentleman, and who 
 guards their slumbers in the silent watches of the night by a 
 force that is not excelled in the United States for efficiency and 
 intelligence. 
 
 Having just returned from Los Angeles, the orange grove of 
 Southern California, I will digress from the main track and 
 give you a brief resume' of my trip. Ten days ago I was in- 
 vited to accompany an examining railroad commission upon a 
 tour of inspection, and as my business called me in that direc- 
 tion I availed myself of the hospitable offer. Taking the cars 
 at Oakland, across the Bay, we proceeded to Delano, in the 
 San Joaquin Valley, and from thence by stage to the mission 
 of San Francisco, where the cars were waiting to hurry us 
 
200 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 through to Los Angeles, distant from here about four hundred 
 and fifty miles. My companions were L. M. Foulk, Super- 
 visor of Internal Revenue : Eugene Sullivan and Calvin Brown, 
 composing the railroad commission, and Colonel Gray, Red- 
 ning, Madden and Brown, of the South Pacific Company. The 
 party were ever on the qui vive for fun, and the stage ride over 
 the Sierra Nevada Mountains was enjoyed by your correspond- 
 ent with a zest that will not soon be forgotten. After our ar- 
 rival in Los Angeles, a trip to the San Gabriel Mission was 
 planned and executed with alacrity, where the party had an op- 
 portunity to view the beauties of the orange groves, the prev- 
 alence of the grape vine, and the grandeur of the distant mount- 
 ains reflected in the deep blue sea. It was noon when we 
 neared the orange groves, dashing away over rolling hills, seven 
 of us behind six spanking bays. All was seemingly serene, 
 when we heard that the noted highway robber, Vasquez, had 
 just robbed an old ranchero, and was on our track. We at first 
 laughed at the report, but it was soon confirmed by two men 
 who were just ahead of us, and were relieved of their money 
 and watches by the bold bandits. Each man of our party grew 
 to the size of a first-class Alexander when it was known that 
 the robbers missed us ten minutes, and a cooling draught of 
 wine at the vineyard of Messrs. Wilson & Shorb appeased the 
 wrath of the railroad warriors. There is a reward of twenty 
 thousand dollars upon the head of Vasquez, but up to the pres- 
 ent time he has defied the whole state of California, and from 
 his mountain wilds dictates terms to the people like the Italian 
 bandits calling for ransom in compensation for blood. He is 
 an educated Spaniard, and has the sympathy of his race to aid 
 him in his daring exploits. 
 
 We first visited the orange and grape ranch of Gen. George 
 Stoneman, the bold Union raider of the late war. On his 
 place can be seen the orange in all its golden beauty. Upon 
 the same tree I saw the bud, blossom, green and ripe orange, 
 which to me was phenomenal. The trees bear nine years from 
 the seed, and two thousand oranges to a tree is frequently gath- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 20 1 
 
 ered, and sold at from two to five dollars a hundred. The 
 orchards of Wilson, Cuen and Rose are the finest in the val- 
 ley thousands of tropical fruit trees and millions of grape vines 
 in bloom, and bearing the whole year round. Here I actually 
 saw growing oranges, lemons, limes, figs, English walnuts, al- 
 monds, pomegranates, plums, cherries, peaches, olives, pears, 
 quinces, apricots, citrons, apples, medlar and nectarines. The 
 soil is of a dark, dry, gravelly formation, and for three months 
 in the year, during the dry season, irrigation is absolutely nec- 
 essary to prevent trees from dying. Land is no object in this 
 beautiful valley, although held in large bodies ; but water is 
 the main thing for farming purposes. The water is sold and 
 distributed carefully, and the land is thrown in for a hundred 
 dollars an acre. Modest people, aren't they? Standing upon 
 General Stoneman's place, looking south-east, the traveler be- 
 holds the peaks of Mount San Bernardino covered with snow, 
 the ocean to the south-west, and the golden fruit of the tropics 
 blushing at you from beneath their dark-browed branches. 
 Oh ! if I were a poet, wouldn't I stay here and go it ! 
 
 The church or mission of San Gabriel is one of the oldest 
 Spanish buildings on this coast, having just celebrated its one 
 hundred and third anniversary. I went all through the old 
 ruin, now going fast to decay, but still a resort for the faithful 
 few that daily assemble at the sound of the old bells in the 
 tower. 
 
 How the memory of other days crowds upon the traveler 
 as he views crumbling piles of masonry erected by the hands 
 of those faithful natives that made the Jesuit fathers rich and 
 arrogant, until their wealth excited the envy and rapacity of 
 the Mexican Government, which sequestrated the great land- 
 grants and property of these religious families. A few more 
 years and the missions of California will be chronicled in the 
 musty archives of the past ; the bells that now peal forth an 
 hourly invitation to prayer will sound the funeral march of the 
 natives, and the wild waves of the Pacific will chant an eternal 
 requiem over their lonely graves on the mountain side. 
 
202 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 The city of Los Angeles is beautifully situated in a grove of 
 orange trees, twenty miles from the ocean by rail. The grape 
 grows in the wildest profusion all around the city, and thous- 
 ands of gallons of the purest wine are made annually. Kohler 
 & Frolina have one of the largest cellars in this regioh, and, 
 combined with their vineyard in Sonora county, do the largest 
 business on the coast. Mr. Kohler is the pioneer wine man on 
 the Pacific. He is progressive and intelligent, possessing those 
 noble characteristics that make the Teutonic race respected in 
 this land, where energy and thrift find recognition. Mr. Kel- 
 ley, his Hibernian neighbor, has a very fine orange and lemon 
 orchard, thousands of grape vines, and cellars well stocked with 
 the choicest wines and brandies. 
 
 From Los Angeles I proceeded by stage to Santa Barbara, 
 on the Pacific coast, with the Santa Cruz Islands in sight, thirty 
 miles distant. This is one of the most thriving towns in South- 
 ern California, and is fast settling up with an Eastern popula- 
 tion, in search of health and fortune. I visited the Old Mis- 
 sion, and the celebrated grape vine, fifty-five years old, eighteen 
 inches in diameter, the trunk five feet high and the branches 
 trained over an arbor fifty by sixty feet, where the town folks 
 assemble during the summer months, and floating away in 
 tropical joy, to the music of the Spanish fandango, perform 
 the intricate steps of the "grape-vine twist ! " 
 
 From Santa Barbara I took an ocean steamer, the Constant- 
 ine, to San Francisco. On the way I saw four whales the 
 genuine article blowing, spouting and riding the wild waves 
 of Monterey Bay. InJ:he distance they looked like floating 
 islands heaved up by volcanic action. I was forcibly struck 
 with nature and its destructive elements. The wild sea-gull 
 went for the little fish ; the seal went for the gulls as they 
 floated in fancied security on the waves; the shark went for 
 the seal and the salmon ; the whale went for the shark and the 
 seal, and the Yankee went for the whale, (and got him, too,) 
 and that's what became of the whale because of his natural 
 inclination to spout. Let all politicians take warning from the 
 fate of the whale ! 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 205 
 
 Last evening, just as the sun sank behind the western waves, 
 our staunch steamer pushed through the Golden Gate, dashing 
 a heavy sea from its prow as it passed the rocks that guard 
 the entrance to San Francisco. On the right sits the cele- 
 brated Cliff House with the seal-rocks covered by a moving 
 mass of seals. One of the largest and ugliest is named in 
 honor of Ben Butler, and the natives say that he is eternally 
 barking for something. The biggest seal is named General 
 Grant. He sits on the topmost crag, surveying those below^ 
 him with a conscious dignity ; but occasionally, when he is 
 riled by the barking of Benjamin and the others, he drives- 
 them off the rocks. On the left of the Gate is the light-house,- 
 and ahead is Fort Alcatraz and Goat Island in the distance,, 
 with the City of the Hills margined by a forest of masts. 
 
 A TOUR IN OREGON AND WASHINGTON TERRITORY. 
 Special Correspondence of the Globe-Democrat. 
 
 San Francisco, Cal., May 2pth, 1874. 
 
 In my last letter I gave you an idea of Southern California 
 and its resources, and struck at some of the peculiarities of 
 this city. Since that time I have visited Oregon and Wash- 
 ington Territory, where the great Yankee nation whittles out 
 timber for a living. 
 
 Taking the steamer Ajax on the 5th of the present month,, 
 your correspondent, in company with a jolly crew and cabin 
 companions, pushed out through the Golden Gate, beyond the 
 light-house, and steered away up the North Pacific to Portland, 
 Oregon, where the inhabitants enjoy their annual shower, and 
 with the assistance of their web feet and patent life-preservers, 
 manage to keep their heads out of the gentle inundation which 
 visits that state only once a year. 
 
 As the evening sun of the fourth day out bathed its last 
 blushes in the briny bosom of the Pacific, we came in sight of 
 the land -jaws that lock up the mouth of the Columbia River, 
 with a rough, chopping sea beating over the sand-bar at the 
 front door of Oregon. It was so rough that we had to anchor 
 
204 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 outside the bar until five o'clock in the morning, when the 
 high tide swept us over the breakers and into the placid bosom 
 of the Columbia. Astoria soon came in view, and the pine- 
 clad mountains rose up abruptly on either side, hemming in 
 John Jacob Astor's town with a weird-like stillness that would 
 have suited the taste of Rip Van Winkle. 
 
 Years ago the great Germanic-American fur monarch estab- 
 lished this as a trading-post with Indians and trappers. Then 
 every little stream that emptied into the Columbia was alive 
 with fur-bearing animals, and every gorge in the mountain was 
 tracked with the wild beasts of the forest. The red rover of 
 the hills and the pioneer Caucasian basked in the sunshine of 
 prosperity while hunting in the mountains, or fishing for sal- 
 mon in the Columbia. The fur-bearing animals of this region 
 have almost entirely disappeared, and the great havoc by vo- 
 racious fishermen will soon destroy the grandest salmon fish- 
 eries on the continent. A law should be enacted to protect 
 the fish of this stream from the wholesale slaughter that now 
 goes on, in and out of season. 
 
 Our good steamer moved gracefully up the river, passing 
 beautiful islands overshadowed by rocky crags that have stood 
 the pelting storms of ages. All along the fishermen were en- 
 gaged in spreading and hauling their nets, and each boat we 
 passed was filled with the shining beauties of the Columbia. 
 In the past two or three years some thirteen canning estab- 
 lishments have been erected along the banks, from the mouth 
 of the stream to the Willamette River. 
 
 The running season of the salmon commences in May and 
 ends in July. They are taken from one to ten thousand daily. 
 By the labor of Chinamen they are cut up into pieces, canned 
 in tin boxes, steamed, soldered, labeled, packed, and shipped 
 direct to the London market by vessels, some of which were 
 loading as we passed. A hundred men or more are employed 
 Sit each house, and the modus operandi of preserving the salmon 
 fresh for the markets of the world is a sight to the traveler. 
 You may know that the business is profitable, when I tell you 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 205 
 
 that last season one firm made a profit of $60,000. The fish- 
 ermen sell the salmon for twenty-five cents each, large and 
 small, and considering that they weigh from twenty to seventy- 
 five pounds, you can imagine the great profit to the capitalist. 
 
 About five o'clock in the afternoon we entered the Willa- 
 mette River, and within an hour afterward we beheld Portland, 
 the metropolitan city of Oregon, situated on the first river- 
 bench of level land from the mouth of the Columbia. In the 
 background the hills rise abruptly, and great pine forests sigh 
 to the music of the wild winds, sunshine and shadow forever 
 flecking the scene below. Twenty years ago Portland was but 
 a name, and the beautiful waters of the Willamette were only 
 ruffled by the paddle of the Indian with his canoe, the splash 
 of the salmon, or the dash of the wild duck. Now, ships of 
 every nation load at its harbor with grain and lumber. The 
 whistle of the iron horse and the hoarse shriek of steamboats 
 awaken the slumbering echoes of the mountain, and fifteen 
 thousand inhabitants, including Ben. Holliday, bask in the wild 
 glare of nature, wondering whether God ever made a finer 
 country than that skirted by the Columbia and Willamette. 
 
 Spending but a few days in Portland, your correspondent 
 invaded the soil of Washington Territory by way of the North 
 Pacific Railroad, to Kalama, Tacoma and Olympia, the capital 
 of the territory. This city is situated at the head of Puget 
 Sound, and has about five thousand inhabitants, mostly en- 
 gaged in lumbering and political expectations. Every other 
 man here thinks he would make a first-class governor, and the 
 balance think themselves fitted for Congress or a saw-mill. 
 I might say, without exaggeration, that all the people of the 
 Pacific coast feel that they were made to govern the country, 
 and no good Californian, at least, can be found who would 
 not, at a moment's notice, assume the helm of State and un- 
 dertake to pilot the ship through the roughest breakers. 
 
 Taking a steamer at Olympia one charming morning, this 
 Arabian knight paddled down Puget Sound, the most magnifi- 
 cent sheet of water in America. On we went over the spark- 
 
206 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 ling waters, passing green islands, dashing through narrow 
 necks into broad bays, and turning points the Coast Range 
 of mountains covered with snow on the left, and the Cascade 
 Range on the right and all at once we touched the town of 
 Tacoma. Mount Rainier, the highest mountain on the con- 
 tinent, lifted its glorious form to view, and there, in grand 
 proportions, sixty miles away, the old snow-clad monarch lifted 
 his bold head into and beyond the highest clouds, piercing 
 the very dome of heaven with his awful form 
 
 The evening was bright and clear, and, standing in the pilot- 
 house, with marine glass in hand, I brought all the beauties 
 of the mountain close to view, showing the deep gorges, rocky 
 ribs and glaciers running to the very crest, where a dark bare 
 i>pot shows volcanic heat and action. 
 
 In August, 1870, P. T. Van Trump and Hazard Stevens 
 two young men from Olympia scaled the rugged heights of 
 this mountain, being the only two human beings that have 
 ever been known to go to the top. The trip took three days, 
 the boys being compelled to camp on the crest of the volcano 
 over night. They came near losing their lives, for while one 
 -side was almost burning up with heat, the other was freezing 
 with cold. What is it that young Yankees won't dare and do ? 
 
 Our steamer touched at Seattle, a thriving town, and on to 
 Port Gambel, the great saw-mill point, where half a million 
 feet of lumber is turned out daily by one mill company. The 
 timber in Washington Territory, along the streams and bays, 
 grows down to the water's edge ; and the shrewd lumbermen 
 of Maine, seeing this rich field twenty years ago, took advan- 
 tage of it, and now supply this coast and South America with 
 ail the lumber required. 
 
 Continuing down through Admiralty Inlet, past Port Towns- 
 end, the last revenue port of entry on Uncle Sam's farm, we 
 headed across towards Victoria, on Vancouver's Island, leav- 
 ing the island of San Juan immediately to our right. These 
 islands, as it will be remembered, came into our full posses- 
 sion by the decision of King William of Germany, who was 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 207 
 
 the arbitrator upon the boundary line of 1846. Victoria is a 
 conservative spot, established years ago as a post for the Hud- 
 son Bay Company. During the Frazer River gold excitement 
 in 1858, the Yankee boys made the place lively, buckwheat 
 cakes and molasses ruling the roost, but the denizens of the 
 town have again settled down to quiet habits. 
 
 Returning to Portland by rail and river, I could not sup- 
 press my inclination to visit the cascades and dalles of the Co- 
 lumbia River. Taking the steamer Daisy Ainsworth, we pushed 
 out from the wharf at 5 o'clock in the morning, down the 
 Willamette, twelve miles distant, and headed up the Columbia, 
 touching at Fort Vancouver, W. T., where Generals Grant and 
 Sheridan passed their early military life. Many are the strange 
 stories told about our President and Sheridan, by the oldest 
 inhabitants. But while many are ridiculous, the people who 
 tell them pride in the fame and prosperity of our Union war- 
 riors, pointing out the resorts that were once the glory of the 
 young lieutenants. The view from Vancouver is remarkably 
 grand ; to the northwest is Mount St. Helen and Mount Ad- 
 ams, and to the northeast Mount Hood looms up one of the 
 finest and sharpest peaks on the coast. Right ahead, as we 
 steam up the river, bold mountain bluffs 5,000 feet high rise 
 almost perpendicularly from the troubled waters as they fret 
 and foam through the rocky canon to find outlet to the ocean. 
 Down these mountain -cracked gorges dash a hundred water- 
 falls at different points, spending their headlong fury in the 
 rushing waters below, while the sun and the wind weave a pict- 
 ure in the spray more beautiful than the fantastic colorings of 
 fairy land. Arriving at the cascades, a railroad portage of 
 about six miles takes us to the head of the rapids, where another 
 steamboat is in waiting to take us to the Dalles, six miles up 
 the stream. The whole route up the river is one ever-chang- 
 ing picture of rocky islands, pointed peaks, columnar walls 
 and bouncing billows, fretted into snowy spray by the rocks that 
 lie in the channel. For two miles before reaching the town of 
 the Dalles, the river is confined in a narrow rocky bed, cut out 
 
2o8 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 by the hand of nature with as much architectural skill as if man 
 had labored for centuries to erect the wall. A night at the 
 Dalles satisfied our curiosity. Here begins fifteen miles of 
 rapids, where the river rushes over a broken bed of rocks flung 
 from the surrounding mountains, or heaved up by some vol- 
 canic action. I was tempted to go to Walla Walla, two hun- 
 dred miles farther north, but as I saw all that was beautiful and 
 grand below, nature could only repeat herself farther up the 
 stream, so I returned to Portland by the same route seeing on 
 my way back the Indians catching salmon off the rocks at the 
 cascades as they endeavored to jump the rapids that intercepted 
 their progress. Salmon have been seen to jump ten feet over 
 rocky falls. The Indian lays in wait with his dip net and 
 spear ; when the fish jumps, the red man strikes, and, missing 
 his aim, dips his net, when sooner or later the salmon is caught 
 and bagged for market 
 
 From Portland I took the cars for California as far as Rose- 
 burg, Oregon, and then jolted over a gap of three hundred 
 miles by stage to Redding, on to Sacramento and San Francisco. 
 I was forcibly impressed on my overland trip with the Willa- 
 mette Valley and the beautiful country that surrounds Salem, 
 the capital of the state. It is the finest site for a city on the 
 coast, and when the new state house is finished and the woolen 
 factories are all under way, and the contemplated railroads 
 built, Salem will be one of the most desirable places I have seen. 
 
 The Willamette Valley is two hundred miles long by fifty 
 wide, embracing the best wheat lands in Oregon Land sells 
 for from five to fifty dollars an acre, and so far as water is con- 
 cerned, there is an unfailing fountain from above and below. 
 Oakland, near the terminus of the railroad, is a beautiful place,, 
 snuggled into the top of the mountain. We took supper there, 
 and you may not believe me when I say that strawberries and 
 cream were furnished at this railroad eating station, and every 
 other luxury that the hills and streams could afford. Did you 
 ever sit up three nights and days on the top of a stage ? Try 
 it once, just to encourage the stage company, and experience 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 209 
 
 the wild dash of six-in-hand, as they wheel around some mount- 
 ain crag, with the head waters of some great river rushing 
 three thousand feet below ! In the distance, you may discern 
 the road before you, winding its zigzag way in the vicinity of 
 Mount Shasta, like a black serpent crawling up the rugged gold 
 gorges, near Yreka. On, ever on, goes the wild stage-driver 
 and his blooded beasts, caring not for the rush of the storm, 
 the scream of the eagle, or the genii of the mountains. Time 
 and success has made him fearless, travel has made him rough, 
 but kind, and nature has stamped upon his weather-beaten 
 brow the nobility of manhood ; and when he jumps upon the 
 box for the last drive, thinking alone of his passengers and 
 team, he wails out from the depths of his breaking heart, " On 
 the down grade, and can't reach the brakes !" But although 
 this pioneer of travel cannot reach the brakes on this stage of 
 action, his foot rests firmly on the threshold of eternal life, and 
 on the golden grade of Paradise he can drive the chariot of 
 Apollo with angels for passengers and Jehovah for superintend- 
 ent ! 
 
 THE YOSEMITE VALLEY. 
 Special Correspondence of the St. Louis Globe- Democrat. 
 
 Yosemite Valley, California, June 10, 1874. 
 In company with Ike Cook, wife and daughter, of St. Louis, 
 I started from San Francisco and proceeded to Merced, in the 
 San Joaquin Valley, and from thence took stage to Clark's and 
 the Big Trees. At Merced, our company was increased by a 
 bridal party, composed of Mr. Briggs and wife, of Clyde, N. 
 Y. , and Mr. Baker and wife, of Columbus, Ohio. Starting at 
 6 o'clock in the morning, we arrived at Clark's for supper, 
 seventy miles away over hills, streams, and the rugged roads of 
 the Sierra Nevada Mountains. During the day we passed 
 through the celebrated Mariposa gold mine region made famous 
 by Fremont and his financiering. The mine is now un work- 
 ed, and the region that once yielded millions to the placer dig- 
 gers is almost deserted, save here and there a Mexican or Chi- 
 naman ekeing out a scanty share of the precious dust, by the 
 
 14 
 
210 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 panning and rocking process of the " forty-niners. ' ' There is as 
 much gold, no doubt, in the ribs and gorges of this mountain 
 region as ever, but some company owns the claim, and will not 
 work it, leaving the future development of the quartz to time 
 and interest. 
 
 The morning after our arrival at Clark's we prepared to visit 
 the celebrated big trees. The stage company furnished us with 
 animals, and Thomas H. Tremmed, one of the oldest and most 
 reliable guides in the mguntains, was detailed to show the 
 party to the spot where grow the largest trees on earth. The 
 sun had just risen over the distant mountain when the horses, 
 saddled and packed for the day, were brought up, and soon we 
 mounted and dashed after the guide with the wild freedom of 
 Comanche Indians. I rode a menagerie mule, striped like a 
 zebra, that trotted before, paced in the middle, and galloped 
 and kicked behind. The trail wound up through the foot-hills 
 of the mountains, and gradually ascended for several miles. 
 On the route, and near the mountain top, we were struck with 
 the beauty and singular situation of the blood-red snow flowers 
 peeping out from the margin of the snow belt that capped the 
 pointed peaks. The Fallen Monarch was the first big tree we 
 saw, twenty feet in diameter and three hundred feet long. Its 
 body is large enough to drive a St. Louis omnibus upon. The 
 sides of the old monarch are scarred all over with the names 
 of the great from every land and clime. 
 
 The Grizzly Giant, the largest tree in the world, was the 
 next wonderful object we beheld. With the assistance of the 
 ladies, I measured the circumference of the tree, and found it 
 to be a hundred and eight feet thirty-six feet in diameter. A 
 hundred feet from the base it has a limb six feet in diameter, 
 fit for the largest saw-log. We continued through the grove 
 until we came to the Hollow Tree, two of us riding upright and 
 abreast through its fallen body. We passed the " Faithful 
 Couple," twin monarchs having one great body and two tall 
 heads that lift into the sunshine and the storm. We took 
 lunch near " Ohio" and "Illinois," at a bubbling spring, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 211 
 
 right under the shadow of " General Grant," a magnificent 
 tree, three hundred and fifty feet high and twenty-five feet in 
 diameter. Most of the trees are named in honor of some cel- 
 ebrated character. There was one tree right across the little 
 rivulet, twenty feet in diameter, and three hundred and twenty- 
 five feet high. 
 
 On our return to Clark's ranch we were taken by the guide 
 upon the highest peak of the mountain, where, looking down 
 into the valley, we beheld a grand scene stretching away as far 
 as the eye could reach. The wondering delight at the big trees 
 must be seen to be felt. 
 
 A good night's rest at Clark's and a good breakfast put us 
 in trim for the twenty-six mile trip to the Yosemite. Over 
 hills, streams, rocks and zigzag mountain roads, we walked, 
 rode, galloped, shouted and sang. The perfume of wild flow- 
 ers and the aroma of the pine forest, brought to us on the wings 
 of the bracing breeze, lent vigor and hope to the scene, and 
 prepared our minds for the first view of the Yosemite Valley, 
 as it presented itself from Inspiration Point. Before us lay the 
 winding beauty of the Merced River, meandering through a 
 sheet of emerald, set in a framework of natural splendor, and 
 across the valley dashed the Cascade Falls, the El Capitan 
 Mountain, where the Virgin's Tear trickles down the bold cliff 
 in a shower of diamond beauty, catching the rays of the eve- 
 ning sun in its satin spray. 
 
 Then comes a grand, bewildering succession of lofty peaks 
 and mountains the Three Brothers, Eagle's Nest, Grizzly 
 Bear, the Yosemite Falls, Indian Canon, Royal Arch, Wash- 
 ington Column, North Dome, Mount Watkins, Mount Hoff- 
 man, Cathedral Peaks and Clouds' Rest ribbed with snow 
 and sunshine far above them all. Then we see South Dome 
 and Mirror Lake at the base ; Unicorn Group, Mount Missouri, 
 covered with snow and pines ; Sentinel Dome, Sentinel Rock, 
 the Three Graces, with the Bridal Veil, flowing over the round- 
 ed rocks in gauzy grandeur, shadowed by the Leaning Tower, 
 and right in front of where I stand the bold sides of Palisade 
 
212 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Rock, its steps washed by Cataract Falls ; and here my vision 
 and mind checks in mute admiration at the circling wonders 
 of the deep valley. 
 
 Taking shelter for the night at one of the so-called hotels, I 
 proceed in company with the guide to view the beauty of Ver- 
 nal Falls, 350 feet, Nevada Falls, 700 feet, and Glacier Point. 
 Passing up the brawling stream to the falls, great jagged rocks 
 that have fallen from the crags intercept the way, and fearful 
 mountain walls and jutting cliffs shadow the traveler. Vernal 
 Falls, as seen from above, looks like a huge sheet of fretted 
 lace, with a dash of bright green through its folds the margin 
 pines reflected in the troubled waters. Leaning over the bal- 
 ustered rock at the edge of the falls, you gaze down into the 
 gorge below, spanned by the rainbow of promise, the spurting 
 spray dashing from the rocks in clouds of beauty. A hundred 
 yards above Vernal Falls is Silver Chute, running over an in- 
 clined bed of granite, with more than the rapidity of a race- 
 horse. A large rock thrown into the stream by the guide was- 
 swept over like a chip. Wild Cat Chute, just above Silver 
 Chute and under the shadow of Liberty Cap, is one of the 
 most interesting spots in the valley. Leaning over the rustic 
 bridge that spans the rocky gorge leading to Snow's Hotel, 
 Vernal Falls and Glacier Point, to the front, and Nevada Falls 
 to the rear the traveler gazes in silent astonishment at the wild 
 plunges of the cataract as it escapes from the rocky jaws, set 
 with granite teeth that have tested tide and time. Look for a 
 moment at the milk-white spray leaping into coral trees, chas- 
 ing each other with the rapidity of lightning as they dash 
 through the* rocks, and the sunlit rainbow circling the wild rush 
 of the stream. Let loose suddenly the Compton Hill Reser- 
 voir, through a metal tube, three feet in diameter, the nozzle 
 at the Globe office, and you can conceive the desperate dash of 
 the Wild Cat Chute. Take this point, all in all, with the 
 cracked mountain, falls, trees, sunshine, pine shadows and 
 cloudless dome of heaven, it is, without exception, the wildest, 
 grandest spot in the Yosemite. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 213 
 
 Leaving Snow's Hotel, the guide led me up a narrow gorge 
 at the base of Liberty Cap, and on to the left of Nevada Falls, 
 where the crooked road angles every fifty feet in reaching the 
 table rock. Arriving at the top, I scampered over the drift- 
 wood and rocks until I sat upon the rocking boulder that juts 
 out over the fearful fall, where the boiling, steaming waters 
 dash in eternal fury down to the mad stream below, where the 
 tall pines reflect their green branches and dark shadows in the 
 churned stream. Liberty Cap looms up on my right, its splin- 
 tered sides flecked with passing clouds and scorched by the sun 
 of centuries. Far to the north-west is Eagle Point, Glacier 
 Mountain, and away over the brow of El Capitan the clamber- 
 ing clouds pile upon each other, showing the bright blue of 
 the horizon through their fleecy folds, where the rays of the 
 warm sunshine dance to the music of the wild winds. 
 
 Winding around the rocky ribs of Piney Point, I passed over 
 a bridge that led up the steep sides of Glacier Mountain, and 
 looking back to the east saw the grand gorge of Vernal and 
 Nevada Falls, hemmed in by the monarchs of the mountains, 
 margined by the graceful branches of the pines, and singing 
 the song of the universe. From the top rock of Glacier Point, 
 inspired with fearful awe, the traveler gazes upon the immediate 
 beauty and grandeur of the Yosemite Valley. Four thousand 
 feet below, the hotels sit like bird cages on the margin of the 
 Merced River, as it meanders on its brawling way to the sea. 
 The Yosemite Falls is immediately in front, across the valley, 
 while to the right you see the bold form of South Dome re- 
 flected in Mirror Lake, with the inverted forms of pines pho- 
 tographed in its glassy bosom, stirred by the gentle breeze that 
 fitfully lingers in doubtful repose in this emerald gem of the 
 Yosemite. In the early pre- Adamite days, when the mountains 
 battled for the mastery, and volcanie fires and earthquakes shook 
 the world, Clouds' Rest and South Dome fought long and 
 fierce; but when the temper of the mountains "cooled, there 
 stood Clouds' Rest above them all, while South Dome stood 
 near by and defiant, but conquered in the contest. 
 
214 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 Descending from Glacier Point, you pass Union Point, and 
 turning the angles of the zigzag road, an ever-changing scene 
 is presented. The rocks that but a moment ago looked like 
 rugged crags, now assume the shape of cathedral spires, point- 
 ed peaks or bald boulders; and the little fall seen in the dis- 
 tance, like a silver ribbon fretted by the wind, changes to the 
 Bridal Veil, Yosemite or Nevada ; and that still small voice, 
 hushed by the sighing pines, breaks upon the ear at the turn of 
 yon mountain point with the complaining roar of the cataract. 
 
 In closing up my wild wanderings in the valley, I induced 
 Mr. Cook, wife and daughter, to accompany me to the top of 
 Clouds' Rest, the highest point, twelve thousand feet above the 
 level of the sea. We were among the first of this season to un- 
 dertake the hazardous journey. Mounting my zebra mule, I 
 dashed away over three miles of snow, from five to fifty feet 
 deep, our animals sinking at every step. There was no trail 
 after we struck the snow-line, but keeping my eye on the 
 mountain top, and leaving the guide to aid the ladies, I pushed 
 onward and upward, through pine forests, throwing their dark 
 branches on the bright snow, with occasional murmurs at my 
 audacity in disturbing their sleep. When near the mountain 
 top a fearful storm came up, skipping through the tree tops, 
 causing a panther to jump across my path, and disappear down 
 the gorges. Being anxious to take my mule on the granite 
 back-bone of the Sierra Nevadas, I rode far ahead of the party, 
 getting along boldly on the crest of snow that divided and 
 showed the rough rocks on either side far down into the dark 
 valley, when all at once, and within fifty feet of the top, the 
 mule sank into the snow and threw this wandering Arab over 
 his head. Then you might see a solitary mule, " as it were," 
 lunging about and sinking until nothing could be seen but his 
 ears and tail wagging in the breeze of freedom, and the rider, 
 " so to speak," holding on to the bridle like grim death to one 
 of our ebony fellow-citizens ! 
 
 The view from Clouds' Rest is simply magnificent. Far be- 
 low where I sat, the clouds whirled and broke into banks of fog, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 215 
 
 ripped up by the winds and painted by the darting rays of the 
 sun. Looking to the far west and into the green valley, I saw 
 before and around me Mt. Hoffman, Mt. Watkins, North 
 Dome, the spray of the Yosemite Falls, Eagle Point, El Capi- 
 tan, Inspiration Point ; at the foot of the valley, the Three 
 Graces, Sentinel Rock, Sentinel Dome, Glacier Point, South 
 Dome, Piney Point, Liberty Cap, Mt. Broderick, Mt. Starr 
 King, Cloud Peak, Unicorn Group, Mt. Washington and Mt. 
 Clark, the snow melting and dashing down the mountain sides, 
 the fleecy clouds flying to the north, and far below I beheld the 
 glory of the far-off peaks as they jut up and beyond the rim of 
 the blue horizon. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 RETURN FROM CALIFORNIA. VISIT TO BRIGHAM YOUNG. PEN- 
 SKETCHES OF OLD FRIENDS AND ASSOCIATES. 
 
 On my return trip from California I stopped off for two days 
 at .Salt Lake City to examine the collector's office, and take in 
 the "malaria" of Mormonism. I put up at the Townsend 
 House, visited the Mount Zion combination stores, the Bee- 
 Hive and the Temple, rode out to Camp Douglas, and gazed in 
 wonder upon the blooming fields that a fanatical religion had 
 grasped out of the desert wastes of Utah. To cap the climax 
 of my curiosity, I talked and dined with Brigham Young and 
 two of his wives. He reminded me of a gnarled oak that had 
 withstood the storms of centuries, and with his large head, thick 
 neck and deep-set eyes, impressed me as a man of wonderful 
 firmness, tenacity and indomitable perseverance, combined wich 
 cunning, hope and tyranny. We talked freely of the prospects 
 of Mormonism in the march of civilization, and he strongly in- 
 sisted that the constitution of the United States guaranteed 
 freedom of religion to every man and woman in the nation ; 
 and that every human being was privileged to worship God ac- 
 cording to the dictates of his conscience. 
 
 I could not well combat this logic, and replied that it was 
 not the mere ritual or creed of the Mormon religion that the 
 people of the United States so objected to, but to the blister- 
 ing doctrine of polygamy, where one man was accorded the 
 right to take a hundred or a thousand women to satisfy his lust. 
 He quickly replied : " Even in this we have the precedent of 
 the old patriarchs, David and Solomon ; and if they were wrong, 
 
 216 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 217 
 
 why do you preach their lives from your pulpits every day ? 
 Throw away your Bible ; let your city men be honest and true 
 to one wife, and not in midnight hours give loose to their pas- 
 sions over the wine-cup and at the silken couches of illicit love. 
 Mormonism tolerates no hypocrites. We practice what we 
 preach, and preach what we practice in the sight of God and 
 man ; and from a handful of devoted worshippers who followed 
 in the footsteps of our chief prophet, Joseph Smith, and who 
 revere his memory with undying affection, we plucked from the 
 wilds of nature this rich territory, through the very religion you 
 Gentiles ignorantly condemn ! No, sir, it is the cupidity and 
 robbing propensity of the Christian that turns his hand in this 
 direction, and his professed horror at polygamy is only a sub- 
 terfuge for his grasping avarice \ and since he has " might" on 
 his side, readily makes it " right" to prowl like a bold bandit 
 amid these gold and silver mountains, rich valleys and fertile 
 fields, in search of wealth, booty and empire ! ' ' 
 
 I leave legislators and ministers to reply to these arguments, 
 contenting myselt with the remembrance that I dined with 
 one of the religion manufacturers of the world. 
 
 I returned to St. Louis, and immediately visited Washington. 
 The Commissioner of Internal Revenue was so well pleased 
 with my work that he gave me an order to proceed to New 
 York and New England to examine the collectors' and super- 
 visors' offices in that region. 
 
 It was the month of July, and while I did not go on my 
 eastern tour for any special investigation, my orders would per- 
 mit me to combine pleasure with business, just as presidents, 
 senators, representatives, cabinet ministers and generals do in 
 their tours of investigation and inspection, when the so-called 
 " malaria" of Washington, drives them to Newport, Cape May, 
 Coney Island, Long Branch, Saratoga and the Rocky Mount- 
 ains. This is certainly a great country ! 
 
 I returned to St. Louis in due course, and put on official 
 harness with the same ease I had discarded it in my eastern 
 tour. Politics and official business went hand in hand with me. 
 
218 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 During the five years I lived in St. Louis I became acquaint- 
 ed with a number of representative gentlemen. 
 
 Among the most prominent of my associates were Col. J. C. 
 Normile, William Patrick, Chester H. Krum, Thomas C. 
 Fletcher and Nat Claiborne, of the law profession. 
 
 Among journalists I held social relations with Stilson Hutch- 
 ins, of the Times; Joseph Putlizer, of the Westlich Post ; Wil- 
 liam M. Grosvenor, of the Democrat ; William Hyde, of the 
 Republican, and Joseph B. McCullagh, of the Globe-Democrat. 
 
 The stable and influential citizens who gave me their friend- 
 ship were David Armstrong, Isaac Cook, E. O. Stanard, A. 
 W. Slayback and James B. Eads. 
 
 As each of these fifteen self-made men bore a prominent part 
 in the make-up of the community who trusted and honored 
 them, a pen-picture of each may not be uninteresting to the 
 reader. 
 
 *** 
 
 Col. J. C. NORMILE was born in Ireland, on the banks of the 
 Shannon, and emigrated with his parents at an early age to 
 America. 
 
 He went to school and graduated at the Georgetown Jesuit 
 University in the District of Columbia, and afterwards studied 
 law in the office of Hon. Thomas Ewing, ot Ohio. Secretary 
 Browning, of Illinois, took great interest in Normile, and keen- 
 ly appreciated the fund of literary information possessed by his 
 young friend. While he was Secretary of the Interior, under 
 President Johnson, Browning made Normile Librarian of the 
 Interior Department, and was so well pleased with him that 
 the young lawyer was a constant companion of the Secretary, 
 sharing his home and hospitable board on the heights of 
 Georgetown. 
 
 When a change in the political complexion of the Depart- 
 ments took place, on the advent of General Grant to the Ex- 
 ecutive Chair, Col. Normile determined to resign his lucrative 
 office, and cast his lot with the progressive citizens of the 
 teeming West. He appeared in St. Louis a stranger, with no 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 21$ 
 
 friend but his talents, and no fortune but that courage and in- 
 domitable perseverance that never fails ultimately to secure 
 success. 
 
 It was soon discovered that Normile had unusual ability as a 
 writer and orator, and when he first shone as a forensic debater 
 and pleader in the celebrated Fore-Beech murder case, the 
 whole bar as well as the press acknowledged him a master of 
 magnetic eloquence, whose lacerating logic and classic periods 
 went to the heart and soul of the vulnerable jury, securing an 
 acquittal of a cold-blooded murderer, on the technical plea of 
 insanity. 
 
 The Democratic party, soon after the acquittal of Fore, nom- 
 inated Col. Normile on their ticket for the position of Com- 
 monwealth Attorney, and while some of the ticket was defeated, 
 Normile was triumphantly elected, and served four years as 
 district attorney, doing great credit to himself as a criminal 
 prosecutor, and conferring honor upon his adopted state. 
 
 What was very strange, and seemingly providential, the very 
 man, Joe Fore, who was defended and acquitted through the 
 instrumentality of Normile in the murder case, was afterwards 
 prosecuted, convicted and sentenced to ten years' imprisonment 
 for an assault, with intent to kill, upon his wife. Thus, as a 
 defender and prosecutor, one man rises into fame upon the 
 pivot of a criminal action, while the other unfortunate lan- 
 guishes in lunatic desperation in a felon's cell, and finally dies 
 by the knife of a fellow-prisoner. 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way 
 
 His wonders to perfoim ; 
 Me plants his footsteps in the sea 
 And rides upon the storm." 
 
 The declamations, speeches and orations ofrformile are va- 
 rious, and his services were in continuous demand at every so- 
 ciety and club entertainment, where Attic wit and poetic elo- 
 quence struggled for the mastery. His oration appealing for 
 the acquittal of Fore in the Beech murder case was a classic pro- 
 duction, and worthy the oratorical flights of Wirt, Prentice or 
 
220 A CHECKERED LIFE, 
 
 Brady. His oration before the Knights of Saint Patrick, at a 
 Southern Hotel banquet, might rank with the flowing periods of 
 Sheridan, Meagher or O' Gorman; and wherever the Celtic 
 race rises into the realms of mellifluous eloquence, the orations 
 of Normile should be placed in the front rank of the impas- 
 sioned productions. 
 
 It was my privilege to be the intimate companion of Nor- 
 mile for nearly five years; and while we differed in many 
 characteristics, there was no break in our mutual confidence, 
 and no frost-work to chill the warmth of our friendship. 
 
 *** 
 
 WILLIAM PATRICK was Assistant United States District Attor- 
 ney, under Chester Krum, when I first made his acquaintance. 
 He had been educated in Philadelphia, studied law, and moved 
 to St. Louis, where he at once took rank as a gentleman of 
 honor and a lawyer of unusual legal attainments. His form 
 was built in the nervous, willowy, classic mould, and his blue 
 eye flashed love or defiance as the lightning darts from a 
 thunder-cloud to waste itself in airy nothingness, or strike the 
 fatal blow. His keen perception of men and their motives 
 made him a valuable acquisition to a client, and the same en- 
 ergy, ability and honesty that guaranteed success to his civil 
 clients was doubly enhanced when he became United States 
 District Attorney for the Eastern District of Missouri. 
 
 I was personally, politically and officially associated with 
 Mr. Patrick for four years, and sounded the very secret springs 
 of his enthusiastic nature. If you approached him with sin- 
 cerity and honesty, he met you squarely on the same basis ; 
 but if you attempted by innuendo and subterfuge to divine his 
 will, he was as silent and mysterious as an Egyptian mummy. 
 
 He was the Very soul of honor ; would not conspire to be- 
 tray, and would not conciliate for profit or immunity. He 
 performed his whole duty to the defendant and the Govern- 
 ment ; and when a man threw up his hands and asked mercy, 
 he was the first officer of the court to find some palliating 
 circumstance to relieve the victim of the law. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 221 
 
 As an officer, I always found him honest and faithful ; as a 
 politician, he was reliable and unflinching ; as a friend, he was- 
 generous and kind ; and as a man, he was noble and sincere. 
 
 *** 
 
 CHESTER H. KRUM was considered a learned young lawyer 
 when he graduated from Harvard. His father, John M. Krum, 
 had been practicing law in Missouri for more than forty years, 
 and the detailed office knowledge imparted to the son made 
 him at once a successful practitioner. When I first went to- 
 St. Louis, I found Judge Krum in the position of United States- 
 District Attorney, and was necessarily brought in contact with 
 his office in the prosecution of revenue cases. 
 
 His form was large, round and dignified ; and with his mild 
 dark eye, matchless teeth and elevated forehead, he might have 
 been taken for any of the double storied lawyers who have 
 honored the bar and bench since the days of Lord Mansfield. 
 When not officially engaged, we often met with a circle of 
 choice spirits and whiled the hours away in hatching political 
 plans, singing songs, or clinking glasses to the memory of our 
 ancient friend Bacchus. 
 
 Judge Krum was not demonstrative to ordinary acquaint- 
 ances, but when he found a truthful and trustful spirit, the icy 
 margin of formality faded away before the sunshine of confi- 
 dence and friendship. 
 
 *** 
 
 THOMAS C. FLETCHER was born in De Soto, Missouri, stud- 
 ied law, moved to St. Louis, became a major-general during 
 the late Rebellion, and about the close of the war was elected 
 Governor of his native state. He was the only Governor of 
 Missouri who had been born in the state ; and although the 
 commonwealth had been devoted to slavery in the old days, 
 he never sanctioned or acknowledged the proposition that one 
 man could rightfully own another as a chattel ; and as a result 
 of this philosophy was elected a Republican Governor. 
 
 Mr. Fletcher is a fine specimen of stalwart manhood, stand- 
 ing six feet two inches, and weighing over two hundred pounds. 
 
222 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 His head is massive, and his mild, enchanting eye never fails 
 to secure confidence. His worst fault is his excess of good 
 nature, that will not allow him to repel even those who may 
 have injured him. Like the Vicar of Wakefield with his poor 
 congregation 
 
 "Careless their merits or their faults to scan, 
 His pity gave ere charity began; 
 Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, 
 And even his failings leaned to virtue's side." 
 
 Mr. Fletcher is a good lawyer, a renowned orator, and an 
 unchanging friend. He is incapable of performing a mean act ; 
 and while he may be slow in reaching a given point, he never 
 fails to reach it in the end. His Masonic brethren have reason 
 to take pride in his truth, intelligence and nobility; for as an 
 Eminent Commander of Knight Templars he presided with 
 justice and dignity, leaving a memory that will blossom with a 
 sweet perfume when the last sprig of acacia decorates his grave. 
 
 His comrades who knew him in the army delight to honor 
 his genius and good heart, and so long as the Army of the 
 Tennessee or the loyal people for whom it fought shall cel- 
 ebrate the victories of freedom, their friend and orator will 
 not be forgotten. 
 
 As a friend and client I tested the truth and fealty of Mr. 
 Fletcher in the deepest vale of misfortune ; and while a con- 
 catenation of unforeseen circumstances twined themselves about 
 me like a group of deadly serpents, he never failed to strike 
 their twisting grip or paralyze their efforts for my destruction. 
 And when time and the sunshine of redemption brought peace 
 and victory to my heart and home, he delighted to break bread 
 at my board, and praise me for the fortitude I displayed when 
 injustice and so-called reform sought my ruin. 
 
 *** 
 
 NAT. CLAIBORNE was born in the Old Dominion, in the re- 
 gion of its earliest settlement, and imbibed from his surround- 
 ings the miasma of slavery. Yet, in his inmost heart he never 
 consented to the right of property in man, because his native 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 223 
 
 generosity, charity and love of liberty made him the natural 
 enemy of oppression and wrong. 
 
 Leaving Virginia at an early day, he came to St. Louis and 
 began the practice of law. For the daily rut and routine of a 
 law office he had little taste ; but when the Democratic party 
 wanted an orator, or a special gathering needed a flowery and 
 magnetic speaker, Claiborne was always in demand. I have 
 seen him on the hustings electrify even the opposition, and 
 with his broad provincial pronunciation, magnetize the crowd 
 into continuous applause, or sadden their hearts with his tales 
 of woe. I met him often under the gas-lights when his gen- 
 erous nature found relief in the wine-cup, and his heart and 
 tongue bounded away in song and story, as light as the mist 
 on the mountain. 
 
 I shall long remember the night at the Pacific Hotel in St. 
 Joseph, when the state commissioners determined to locate the 
 lunatic asylum in that flourishing city. John L. Bittenger, 
 Zach. Mitchell, Mr. Hax, Joe Rickey, Tom Walsh, Mr. Koch, 
 Col. Parker, Mr. Toole, Col. Wilkinson and a number of other 
 jolly spirits, assembled in the double parlors of the hotel to 
 celebrate in fluid form the decision of the commissioners, and 
 particularly to expatiate upon the natural distribution of the 
 fifteen thousand dollars that the citizens of St. Joseph contrib- 
 uted as a practical argument in their favor, as against the other 
 cities of Missouri. 
 
 " Uncle Johnny" Able, as he was fondly called by " the 
 boys," did the heavy part as host. Champagne flowed like 
 water from a town pump, and as soon as one basket of Mumm 
 was empty, another was opened with neatness and dispatch. 
 About midnight a band of three darkey minstrels was ushered 
 into the parlors. One played a banjo, the other a double mouth- 
 organ, and a small specimen from Congo performed on the 
 triangle. 
 
 Doors were locked, and none were admitted without the 
 royal countersign "Mumm." The occasion and philosophy 
 of the meeting made this kind of a pass-word appropriate and 
 
22 4 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 invaluable. The boys were hot, and threw their garments right 
 and left as a relief to their volcanic condition. 
 
 Nat Claiborne proposed a dance to the classic tune of " Shoo- 
 fly," and the Congo minstrels struck up the air in their most 
 inimitable style, while a circle of ghosted mortals swung through 
 the mazy dance with their under garments floating in the 
 breeze of freedom, and their hair standing on end like a collec- 
 tion of serpents on the heads of the Furies. Nature was finally 
 exhausted, the band departed, the lights were turned low, Mor- 
 pheus usurped his magical reign, and the "good and true" 
 citizens of Missouri slept the sleep of the innocent and just ! 
 
 I hope the boys will forgive me for " giving them away" just 
 once, but if they wish to swear to the falsity of the foregoing 
 charges, I shall attribute the tale to poetry and romance, leav- 
 ing the god Mercury to bear the brunt of their eccentricities. 
 
 V 
 
 STILSON HUTCHINS, formerly editor of the St. Louis Times, 
 was born among the sterile hills of New England, and imbibed 
 early in life that spirit of self-reliance and ambition co-exten- 
 sive with Yankee land. He came from the humblest walks of 
 life, and the streets of Boston have often echoed to the sound 
 of his boyish footsteps in search of work and bread. 
 
 The crowded haunts of his native clime were not congenial 
 to his impulsive nature, and with a bold heart and willing hand 
 he emigrated to the banks of the Mississippi, and pursued the 
 uncertain life of a newspaper reporter. I first saw him in Du- 
 buque, Iowa, in 1865, when engaged on the Herald virih. Den- 
 nis Mahoney, who had been imprisoned in Fort Lafayette for 
 alleged treason against the government. I met Hutchins again 
 in St. Louis in 1870, as the managing man of the Times, and 
 a free lance in journalism. He and genial John Hodnett were 
 the life of the paper, cutting right into the business and circu- 
 lation of papers that had been established from thirty to sixty 
 years.- His race in St. Louis was long and brilliant ; and nei- 
 ther trouble nor misfortune could break his spirit, dull his 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 225 
 
 ambition, or dim the luster of his editorial genius. In spite of 
 the most vindictive opposition in his own party, the Democrats 
 of St. Louis sent him to the Legislature, where he achieved 
 a reputation for pluck, honesty and legislative daring second 
 to that of no other member. 
 
 As Chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, he became 
 the leader of the House, and actually dictated many of the laws 
 that now adorn the statute books of Missouri. 
 
 He divines at once the motives of men, possessing unlimited 
 audacity, combined with faithfulness and remarkable secretive 
 powers, fights inside the circle and never betrays his fellows to 
 the cold sneer of the rabble world. Nature and art he twists 
 to his own uses ; and while generous to a fault, he never neg- 
 lects to take particular care of number one. 
 
 In this respect he is only following out the unalterable laws 
 of self-preservation, and protecting his material interests against 
 the sharks that lie in wait to entrap the unwary. 
 
 The social cheer of Hutchins is unbounded, and when the 
 cares of daily life are ended, he rollicks away with his compan- 
 ions as free as a boy let loose from school. As an after-dinner 
 speaker he is unequaled, as a singer of charming melody he 
 cannot be easily matched, and as a story-teller he is inimitable. 
 
 He possesses a strong healthy frame, a square-cut brow, a 
 bright, laughing eye, a face like a broad-axe, a heart that throbs 
 like a steam engine, and a soul that is absolutely irrepressible. 
 Had he been educated in the school of a soldier, or trained in 
 the upper walks of military life, the dash of Murat, McPherson 
 or Sheridan might have characterized his warlike career. 
 
 I was intimately acquainted with Hutchins during my official 
 career in St. Louis, and had ample opportunity to sound his 
 capacity, generosity and honesty, and never found him want- 
 ing in these characteristics, but as true and faithful to a prom- 
 ise once given as the stars to their destined sphere. 
 
 In the last few years I have frequently met him at the Na- 
 tional Capital as editor and proprietor of the Post, and the 
 same pluck, perseverange and capacity that he brought to his 
 
22 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 work in St. Louis has at last guaranteed him a magnificent suc- 
 cess in Washington. 
 
 *** 
 
 JOSEPH PULITZER, the editor and proprietor of the St. Louis 
 Evening Post-Dispatch, and present proprietor of the New York 
 World, is a stalwart son of the Fatherland. Nature fashioned 
 him above many of his companions, and a rugged experience 
 has polished him into a success. He emigrated when a boy to 
 America, and when first he appeared in St. Louis, secured his 
 bread by daily labor. He fought for the Union during the 
 late Rebellion, and afterwards became a newspaper reporter and 
 writer for the Westlich Post, one of the best German journals 
 in the nation. In time Pulitzer became part owner of the Post, 
 and while see-sawing between the two political parties, occu- 
 pied several places of honor and profit in city, county and state 
 governments. 
 
 When Missouri determined, a few years since, to break loose 
 from the " Drake Constitution," she sent a number of her 
 most prominent citizens to Jefferson City to make a new one, 
 and Mr. Pulitzer was chosen from the city of St. Louis to aid 
 in the manufacture of the present organic law. 
 
 He is a bold, intellectual, sarcastic character, taking the 
 world as "mine oyster," throwing the shells to the rabble, 
 while he swallows the succulent bivalve with that grace and 
 dignity conjured out of the precincts of a superior nature. 
 
 Had Pulitzer lived in the days of Lessing, Kent and Goethe, 
 he might have aspired to the literature and philosophy of these 
 renowned Germans, and even now he is capable of writing a 
 solid editorial on any subject his mind attempts to fathom ; 
 while as an orator he shines with force and brilliancy, never 
 failing to impress his audience by the beauty of his words and 
 the intensity of his action. 
 
 *** 
 
 Col. WILLIAM M. GROSVENOR is a natural Bohemian, not 
 from a foreign clime, but from the green hills of New England. 
 He is also a natural politician, taking to political intrigue as 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 22 y 
 
 easily and felicitously as the most renowned diplomat takes to 
 brandy, confidence and lying. As a financial and political 
 writer he has few equals in America, and no superior. He was 
 for many years editor of the St. Louis Democrat, and impressed 
 the stamp of his wild genius upon that paper. There is no 
 reason why he should not have been in the Congress of the 
 United States as a representative or senator, for surely he had 
 more practical, active, brilliant brains than Brown, Drake or 
 Schurz. He was for many years the power behind the throne 
 upon which these men sat ; and although William McKee, the 
 proprietor of the Democrat, possessed unusual political sagacity, 
 he always deferred to the broad-axe logic of Grosvenor. 
 
 I have often, over the wine cup in midnight hours, talked 
 politics, patriotism and financial business with Con. Maguire 
 and Col. Grosvenor in the snuggery of John King, under the 
 Planter's House, and I must say that for fine conversational 
 ability Grosvenor could not be easily matched. On the hust- 
 ings he was forcible and brilliant ; having that swinging, debo- 
 nair manner that magnetized an audience, and elicited the 
 loudest applause by his beautiful flights of fancy and the logi- 
 cal periods that fell from his eloquent lips. 
 
 *** 
 
 WILLIAM HYDE, of the Republican, is the opposite of Col. 
 Grosvenor in off-hand brilliancy ; but as a solid, staying char- 
 acter, he has no equal among St. Louis journalists. As a par- 
 tisan, he is conservative ; as a friend, he is true and unflinch- 
 ing, and as a solid, fearless man, he is safe. He is one of the 
 characters that average well, and while many of his compeers 
 grow threadbare with time, he "wears" the whole year round, 
 and his friends find the latch-string to his home and heart hang- 
 ing just where they left it. 
 
 Although Mr. Hyde and myself were of opposite political 
 sentiments, we never let that interfere with our social cheer 
 when John and George Knapp joined us at the fascinating fount 
 of Jaccoby, who dispensed decoctions fit for the most esthetic 
 followers of Bacchus. 
 
228 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 George Knapp, the senior proprietor of the Republican, was 
 a man of the kindest heart, and one of the oldest and best 
 newspaper men in the nation. His word was his bond, and his 
 judgment invariably safe. 
 
 V 
 
 J. B. McCuLLAGH, editor of the Globe-Democrat, was born 
 in Dublin, Ireland, and like millions of his race, emigrated to 
 America to find fame and fortune as the result of thought and 
 labor. After arriving in the New World he performed the 
 drudgery of a newspaper office in various places, and was for 
 some years connected with the Cincinnati Enquirer and Com- 
 mercial as reporter, correspondent and editorial writer. Dur- 
 ing the war he was known as a very enterprising correspondent 
 from the front of battle, and on one occasion was so enterprising 
 in getting news ahead of his compeers, that General Grant or- 
 dered him out of the lines. When Andy Johnson became 
 President, " Lktle Mack" was writing for the Cincinnati pa- 
 pers, and upon a great issue between the President and Con- 
 gress in the days of Reconstruction, the irrepressible Celt had 
 along "interview" with Mr. Johnson, and sent it broadcast 
 through the country. This was a novel stroke in journalism, 
 being the original "interview" of all the interviews that have 
 taken place since. 
 
 During the editorial career of " Mack" he has coined a num- 
 ber of words, among them "skedaddle," "blizzard" and 
 "boom." The first means the running away of a soldier, the 
 second means a fierce, frosty Texas wind-storm, and the third 
 means a great rise in public opinion, as a flood might rise in 
 the mountains and float millions of saw-logs to the deep waters 
 below. 
 
 As an epigrammatic writer he is unequaled. He can tag a 
 friend or an enemy with a word or phrase that will follow him 
 to his grave. The most caustic, pinching paragraphs fall from 
 his facile pen, and he grasps with almost unerring knowledge 
 the drift of public opinion. Naturally he is a Democrat, but 
 through policy and interest, party harness falls upon him very 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 22 g 
 
 lightly ; and while he may of late years have voted the Repub- 
 lican ticket, yet, on general principles, he votes for the man 
 and not the party. 
 
 ^ I have seen McCullagh 'and Hutchins break lances of fun 
 and wit at Southern Hotel banquets, and it was better than a 
 'circus to witness the jolly eccentricities of these inimitable wags 
 over the "walnuts and wine" in midnight hours. 
 /I was intimate with "Mack" during most ol my official career 
 in St. Louis ; and if Bonnett and Frank Gregory are alive, they 
 may remember how, on Fourth street and in the resort on Pine 
 street, we cracked jokes to the music of champagne artillery. 
 It was a "cold day" when " Mack" refused a fine bird-supper 
 or a wine-bath, and I must say that his fellow journalists of St. 
 Louis never failed to play "Barkis" to my"Peggoty." They 
 were the most generous fellows I ever knew with another 
 man's purse a remarkable weakness of all "good and true" 
 Bohemians. 
 
 V 
 
 Hon. DAVID H. ARMSTRONG was born in Nova Scotia, and 
 came to St. Louis more than forty years ago. He taught 
 school for awhile, and earned a fine reputation in teaching the 
 young idea how to shoot. He engaged in politics soon after 
 his advent to Missouri, and never failed to talk, work and fight 
 for the Democratic party. At one time he was postmaster of 
 St. Louis, and for many years held the position of chairman of 
 the Democratic State Central Committee. During the war he 
 was in constant hot water with the Union soldiers and citizens, 
 for while he may not have believed in the dissolution of the 
 Union, he insisted that everything should be done according 
 to the "constitution of the fathers." He forgot that murder- 
 ous war wiped out all constitutions, and that bayonets were 
 put above all constitutional provisions. 
 
 The war closed in Missouri with seventy thousand men who 
 sympathized and fought for the South, disfranchised by the 
 " Drake Constitution." Through the instrumentality of Col. 
 Armstrong and his trade with Gratz Brown & Co., the Liberal 
 
2 30 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 ticket was elected in 1870, and every man in Missouri was as 
 good as his neighbor, and as the Hibernian says, " a great deal 
 better." 
 
 When the labor-strikes of 1876 paralyzed the business of the 
 country, as if an electric shock had passed through the body 
 politic, Armstrong was police commissioner of St. Louis ; and 
 as the controlling spirit of the board, marched his policemen 
 and militia to the revolutionary rendezvous of the rioters, and 
 dispersed them at the point of the bayonet. He is a very rug- 
 ged character. Look at him from a surface view, and you be- 
 hold the lion, who has warred with trouble and bitter exper- 
 ience. But on a closer view, his friends know that the gray 
 and gnarled oak is of sterling worth, a loving friend who will 
 grasp your hand in the vale of adversity, and shed a tear with 
 the sweet pathos of a beautiful woman upon the ruin that mis- 
 fortune may have wrought. A nobler or kinder heart never 
 beat in man ; and when even his bold record as a United States 
 Senator is forgotten, the memory of his blunt but generous 
 deeds will blossom from the dust of Bellefontaine and be remem- 
 bered by every one who hates hypocrisy and loves liberty. 
 
 *** 
 
 ISAAC COOK, President of the American Wine Company, is 
 a man of the strongest will, and a citizen of the finest judg- 
 ment. The memory of living man does not run back to his 
 early boyhood, and it has been quietly suggested by Charley 
 Warner that " Ike" never had a boyhood, but was born when 
 he was a hundred and eighty years old. Some say that he was 
 a sign painter with Michael Angelo, and aided in frescoing the 
 dome of St. Peter. But others have alleged that he and Sen- 
 ator Douglass learned the Cabinet business in Vermont, and 
 made Bureaus for the United States Government in Washing- 
 ton and Chicago. 
 
 He knew how to "keep hotel," at any rate ; for the Amer- 
 ican House in Chicago was for many years the resort of "good 
 fellows' ' and the Democratic party, and the same was presided 
 over by Ike Cook. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 231 
 
 Stephen A. Douglass was at one time the bosom friend of 
 Cook ; but when the Senator broke away from President Bu- 
 chanan upon the question of squatter sovereignty, Mr. Cook 
 proposed to remain and run the Chicago post-office in the in- 
 terest of the Administration. 
 
 He made a notable speech on one occasion to "the boys" 
 who assembled with banners, torch-lights and thirst in front 
 of his mansion. In standing by his cause, he wound up with 
 the following peroration: "Boys, ' Truth squashed to earth 
 will rise again/ and I'll bet you a thousand dollars on it ! " 
 
 V 
 
 E. O. STANARD is a fine specimen of western manhood. 
 His early life was spent in Iowa, from which state he removed 
 to Illinois, and taught school. He appeared in St. Louis as a 
 stranger, and soon began a successful business career. For 
 many years he carried on the business of milling wheat, and 
 his brand of flour is known all over the world. As a member 
 of the Merchants' Exchange, and as its President, he secured 
 the confidence of all with whom he traded, and his word for 
 a car, train or ship load of grain is as good as gold. 
 
 He has been successful in the political field, being elected 
 Lieut. -Governor of Missouri, and afterwards honored with a 
 seat in Congress by his Republican constituents. It is not 
 generally known that while Mr. Stanard was in Congress he did 
 as much as any man in that body for the interest of the navi- 
 gation of the Mississippi River, and while a member of the 
 commerce committee secured the enactment of the law that 
 gave James B. Eads the privilege of making the jetties a suc- 
 cess. I was on the floor of the House the very day the bill was 
 passed, and saw Stanard in constant and earnest argument with 
 the halting and indifferent, urging them to support the claims 
 of the Mississippi Valley, and impressing them with the com- 
 mercial necessity of a free, unimpeded river to the gulf and 
 ocean. 
 
 The jetty system has proved a great success. Where light- 
 ers took millions from the pockets of producers and merchants, 
 
232 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 by transferring freight from ocean vessels over a bar with only 
 nine feet of water, the largest ocean steamer drawing twenty- 
 five or thirty feet can now steam up to the wharves at New 
 Orleans and discharge and ship the products of all climes. 
 The action of Eads and Stanard has made bread cheaper, and 
 every citizen of the Union to-day profits by their genius. 
 
 *** 
 
 A. W. SLAYBACK, previous to the war, was a lawyer in St. 
 Joseph, Missouri. When the first gun of rebellion sounded, he 
 thought it his duty to go down to the front of battle and fight 
 for the Southern Confederacy. Thought and action go hand 
 in hand with such dashing characters, and leaving relatives 
 and friends behind, he fought over three years for the "stars 
 and bars" and the "lone star of Texas." 
 
 When the " Lost Cause" furled its banner forever, Slay back 
 took a trip to Mexico with a colony of defeated Confederates, 
 intending, no doubt, to deprive the United States of his brains 
 and genius ; but a longing for the rolling hills of Missouri 
 took possesion of his mind in the gloomy vales of exile, and 
 hearing that a parental government was not going to cut his 
 head off, as had often been the case in other lands where rebel- 
 lion suffered defeat, he quietly came back to that state, and 
 found the world going on just as naturally as if he and his self- 
 exiled party had not spurned the embrace of Uncle Sam. He 
 settled in St. Louis, and at once took position as a talented 
 and pugnacious lawyer one whose whole hand and heart went 
 together with the untiring force of a steam engine. 
 
 As a fiery and brilliant orator, Slayback had few equals ; and 
 the very intensity of his periods and gestures forced conviction 
 on the mind of the listener. His address upon the occasion 
 of the decoration of soldiers' graves by the "blue" and the 
 "gray," in May, 1872, was a fine production. His reasons 
 for the surrender of the Southern soldiers were criticized by 
 his own comrades ; and as there is a great deal of philosophy 
 and good sense in his remarks, I give herewith the reasons as 
 he stated them : 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE, 233 
 
 " I will tell you why the Southern soldiers grew weary of 
 the contest and surrendered their arms. It was because, after 
 all their privations and losses, and cruel grief over the bloody 
 graves of their fallen comrades, they began to look to the 
 future, and to say : e Well, what then ? ' Made wiser by the 
 stern education of war, their love of constitutional liberty 
 made them tremble for the consequence of final success. They 
 saw that the end of the war in that way would be the begin- 
 ning of others. They cast their eyes upon the government at 
 Richmond, and its constitution recognizing the right of any 
 state, in certain contingencies, to set up a certain nationality 
 .or itself, with its little president and little senate, its little su- 
 preme court and its little navy, with its Palmetto, its Pelican, 
 or its Lone Star for its flag ; and the soldier began to ask him- 
 self, 'For what am I fighting?' Will my children be better 
 off when the wrongs I am redressing shall have been succeeded 
 by others of greater magnitude ? Will my constitutional rights 
 that will remain to me in any event be as safe under the new 
 nationality as under the old ? And what can posterity gain by 
 exchanging for still another experiment the illustrious fabric 
 that Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, Adams and the brave, 
 wise and good men who shared their counsels and dangers es- 
 tablished and bought with the blood of my ancestry of the Rev- 
 olution of 1776 ?' It was this appalling logic which fastened 
 upon the minds of the Southern soldiers, 
 
 " Like a phantasmia or hideous dream," 
 
 ana then and not until then did their hearts begin to fail them. 
 Hence it was that when they furled their flag, they furled it for- 
 ever. Hence it was that when they laid down their arms, they 
 did so with the full expectation, wish and understanding that 
 the flag they had fought should become the emblem of their 
 chosen nationality, and that henceforth and forever these states 
 should be in fact, as in name, the United States of America ! ' ' 
 
 The logic of this speech, to my mind, is irresistible ; and 
 while many insist that the ex-Confederates laid down their 
 arms because they were overpowered by brute force, I still be- 
 lieve that thousands were inspired with the reason thus given 
 by Col. Slayback, and could truthfully exclaim with the divine 
 bard, that it is far better to 
 
 " Bear those ills \ve have, 
 Than fly to others that we know not of!" 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE 
 
 The killing of Slayback, in self-defense, by John A. Cocke- 
 rill, is too recent for me to comment upon ; the public being 
 thoroughlyconversant with the sad affair. 
 
 *** 
 
 Captain JAMES B. EADS is a man of remarkable perseverance 
 and of extraordinary genius. His perceptive faculties are largely 
 developed, and his head might serve as a companion piece to 
 that of Bismarck or Humboldt. 
 
 Sir Christopher Wren and John A. Robeling were never in- 
 spired by a larger scope of ambition in the profession of engi- 
 neering and architectural skill than Eads. He is equal to any 
 emergency. When the United States Government wanted iron- 
 clad boats to ply up and down the waters of the Mississippi 
 Valley during the late war, Captain Eads jumped into the 
 arena, and fitted out a number of iron-clads to guard the com- 
 merce of the West. 
 
 When St. Louis stood halting for many years as to connec- 
 tions with the East, with small ferries and a river of ice at its 
 front door, it was Eads that came forward, and threw across 
 the Mississippi one of the finest and strongest steel bridges in 
 the world, resting on piers and abutments that take hold of 
 the "rock of ages. ' ' 
 
 When the mouth of the Father of Waters became filled and 
 choked with the sands of centuries brought down from the 
 golden ribs of the Rocky Mountains, it was Eads who planned 
 and executed the herculean task of a national dentist, and tore 
 away its snaggled teeth and lumpy roots, giving to the nation 
 a free river to the bounding billows of the ocean. 
 
 Foolish people talk over and haggle about the cost of iron- 
 clads, bridge and jetty, but if they cost a hundred fold more, 
 the state and nation would be the winner ; and when the buz- 
 zing May-flies of to-day are forgotten, the great and glorious 
 engineering feats of James B. Eads will be cherished and re- 
 membered by a grateful and prosperous country. He needs 
 no monument but his generous deeds, and no glory but the 
 magnificent works he fashioned and erected ; and when a thous- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 235 
 
 and years hence Macaulay's wandering traveler from New Zea- 
 land shall rest and contemplate upon the broken arches and 
 toppling piers of the St. Louis bridge, the name of Eads will 
 shine out bright and clear amid the wrecks of tide and time. 
 
 *** 
 
 THE OWL CLUB, of St. Louis, was composed of a number of 
 choice spirits. They were mostly newspaper men, who could 
 drink with the ease of a fish, talk wit, and sing in the tones of 
 a mocking-bird. They would have been appreciated around 
 Covent Garden in the literary London of long ago. 
 
 Eugene Field was a poetic leader, a rare genius in midnight 
 hours, and a Bohemian of infinite resources. He could sing 
 like a thrush and talk like an orator. 
 
 Billy Steiggers is a wiry, impulsive, good-hearted mortal, 
 who brought wit and rare songs to " The Owls," and never re- 
 fused to bathe his classic form with the imperial vintage of Ike 
 Cook. 
 
 Estell McHenry was a Kentuckian, and learned in his col- 
 lege days some sweet darkey melodies. His voice was rich and 
 high, and when he sang the " Pea Vine," and appealed to 
 " Ca'line" to "dance," the boys could not resist the impulse 
 to execute the "grape-vine twist." 
 
 George Gilson was a never-failing attendant at the meetings 
 of the " Owl Club." He would miss a meal or fail to attend 
 church rather than absent himself from the vocal conclave. 
 
 My songs, "Go Way Old Man," "Lula," "Dearest May," 
 "Karney," "Off to Baltimore," "The Tramp," and "Old Ken- 
 tucky Home," never failed to secure a rich chorus. Some- 
 times before church began on summer evenings, the " Owls" 
 would spare a few lingering moments at " Lupe's," "George's" 
 and "Harry Hall's," and give to the crowd waiting at the 
 Post Office "corners" a foretaste of the hymns awaiting them in 
 the solemn aisles of Christian worship. I have known many in- 
 stances, however, where the congregation assembled to hear 
 the "Owl Club" far exceeded the drowsy listeners to the 
 
23 6 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE 
 
 ministers. But there is no accounting for taste in this queer 
 world of ours. 
 
 Frank Gooley, a faithful mason and true man, was a veteran 
 member of the " Owl Club," but sad, to relate, his loving, so- 
 cial light went out forever in the smoke and fire of the South- 
 ern Hotel. 
 
 Peace to his ashes, a tear for his loss ; 
 
 Gone to the home of the crown and the cross ! 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE WHISKEY TROUBLES. MY INDICTMENT, TRIAL AND IMPRIS- 
 ONMENT. ADDRESSES TO THE COURT AND JURY, ETC. 
 
 In the winter of 1874 and 1875, tne agitation of the third 
 icrrn question for President was favorably considered by one 
 class of citizens, while another class fiercely assailed any one 
 who dared to indulge in such outrageous opinions. 
 
 The Civil Service and Political Reform Association of Amer- 
 ica were surcharged with the idea that if General Grant should 
 be nominated and elected President for a third term, the na- 
 tion would sink into indistinguishable ruin, and liberty itself 
 take flight into the realms of oblivion. 
 
 Something must be done to save the Republic from the 
 clutches of a tyrant and a usurper, who had once accidentally 
 conquered a rebellion against the Union ! The stride of the 
 modern Caesar to imperial power must be checked at all haz- 
 zard. What should be done ? 
 
 A conclave of these patriotic reformers met in New York, 
 and, imitating the tailors in Tooley street, resolved themselves 
 into the people of the United States. Some person must be 
 found who was in a position to knife the administration under 
 the fifth rib, bring disgrace upon the President and his politi- 
 cal friends, scandal to the nation, and disgust for laws only 
 enforced to minister to the ambition of a man who was flat- 
 tered by his henchmen into the belief that he would ride in 
 triumph into the presidential chair on a wave of reform. 
 
 Benjamin H. Bristow, of Kentucky, was the Brutus selected 
 by political conspirators to stab and tumble down from his ex- 
 alted station the President of the United States. A more wil- 
 ling individual could not be found to deal the blow or stab 
 
 237 
 
2 3 3 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 the man who lifted him from an obscure country lawyer in a 
 Dorder state, through the successive grades of district attorney 
 and solicitor general, to the Secretaryship of the Treasury. 
 
 In every land and clime, where government taxes whiskey 
 as the product of grain, more or less defrauding of the revenue 
 has taken place. In Germany, France, England, Scotland and 
 Ireland the tillers of the soil in their mountain fastnesses have 
 spurned with contempt the proposition to tax the product of 
 their soil, and have evaded payment of revenue whenever pos- 
 sible. In the days of Washington, a good share of the people of 
 Pennsylvania refused to pay taxes, and the great general of our 
 Revolutionary War had to send troops to crush out the famous 
 "Whiskey Rebellion." 
 
 In our times certain people of Missouri, Tennessee, Georgia 
 and Kentucky have, in daily defiance of revenue laws, distilled 
 the products of their soil in the gulches of rough hills and on 
 the tops of high mountains. The "Moonshiner" and his fam- 
 ily, since the war, have been objects of constant pursuit and 
 prosecution ; yet, even down to this very hour, che govern- 
 ment of the United States has not been able to stamp out the 
 small kettle whiskey manufacturers of the mountains Why ? 
 There is a natural idea of independence in the breast of the 
 rough farmer and stalwart backwoodsman, that says what na- 
 ture yields under his laborious hand can be manufactured and 
 sold without a hoard of petty officers hounding his footsteps. 
 There are many of these rude swains who have never seen a 
 revenue law or suffered the black-mail inspection of local ty- 
 rants. They never consider chat it is the province of govern- 
 ment to provide "ways and means" to maintain its own ex- 
 istence in peace and war, and, therefore, regard the taxing of 
 their grain crops as tyrannical. 
 
 In the cities of the Un ; on there are larger establishments for 
 the distillation of spirituous liquors, and the parties running 
 these distilleries have a better knowledge of their rights and 
 duties under the laws than the rural citizen who acts on '' his 
 own hook" among his native hills. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 2 39 
 
 In the spring of 1875, it was determined by the Secretary of 
 the Treasury, in furtherance of his scheme for the presidency, 
 to make a bold raid upon the distilleries in several of the West- 
 ern states, where General Grant was considered strong. After 
 agents and political strikers had been investigating for many 
 months, the Secretary, on the tenth of May, 1875, pounced 
 down simultaneously upon distilleries in Ohio, Indiana, Wis- 
 consin, Illinois and Missouri, and seized indiscriminately a 
 large number of liquor establishments. He procured the ar- 
 rest of distillers, collectors, agents and supervisors. Then the 
 associated press from Washington, New York, Cincinnati, Chi- 
 cago and St. Louis began an incessant fire of newspaper bullets, 
 making the Secretary the greatest reformer of his time, con- 
 signing every man, woman and child in the whiskey business to 
 the hospitable walls of a penitentiary. 
 
 Mole-hills of revenue frauds were manufactured by the Civil 
 Service Reformers into mountains of corruption ; mountains 
 were exalted to the fiery heights of volcanic ruin, and the Re- 
 public was on the down grade to the realms of Pluto ! 
 
 The rebellion that Grant put down was not a circumstance 
 to the danger arising to the nation from the copper kettle of 
 the fraudulent distiller ; and while he may have defrauded the 
 government out of a thousand dollars a year, the newspaper 
 press was certain that at least a million had been stolen by each 
 distiller, rectifier and officer in the country. 
 
 During the summer of 1875 tne United States Grand Jury 
 was assembled in St. Louis and Jefferson City, and a cloud of 
 witnesses were sent before these " good and true men" for the 
 purpose of indicting every man that would not bow down to 
 Bristow, and raise his hands and voice to the coming Moses of 
 reform. 
 
 Detectives were as thick in St. Louis as maggots around a 
 corpse ; and the room of the district attorney was the scene of 
 poor, little, cowardly creatures, who always run at the first crack 
 of the rifle, and beg on their trembling knees immunity from 
 the imagined terrors of imprisonment. 
 
240 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 After six weeks of detailed threats and secret investigation, 
 a large batch of whiskey men, citizens and officers, were indict- 
 ed by the Grand Jury ; the majority of the jury being political 
 enemies of President Grant. 
 
 Among the rest, I was indicted for an alleged conspiracy to 
 defraud the revenue, the written instrument stating that I had 
 knowledge that fraud was committed by distillers and rectifiers, 
 and did not report the same to my superior officers, as provid- 
 ed in section 5440 of the United States Statutes. I gave bond 
 in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars for my personal ap- 
 pearance at the next term of court. 
 
 The Grand Jury had heard of me so much in their six weeks' 
 investigation, that they concluded to summon me as a witness, 
 just before they adjourned sine die. I was surprised when 
 Marshall Newcomb served upon me a paper to appear forthwith 
 before the Grand Jury, feeling outraged that the secret " Star 
 Chamber" that had indicted me should add insult to injury 
 by the official summons. 
 
 I walked from the Planter's House down Olive street, to the 
 court-house on Third street, and slowly mounted the gloomy 
 staircase to the dark jury-room in the top corner of the ancient 
 building. 
 
 The more I thought of their desire to see me as a curiosity, 
 and humiliate me as a man, the more did my heart shake up 
 its resenting powers ; and I ached for the opportunity to show 
 my disgust for the loyal, rebel, Dolly Varden conclave of Bris- 
 tow conspirators. 
 
 When I entered the room I saw a long table with about 
 twenty men ranged around, gaping at me with a leer of curios- 
 ity and imbecility upon their dark faces. The district attorney 
 and the foreman, with a short-hand reporter, sat at the head of 
 the reputation slaughter-table. 
 
 The foreman motioned me to the front, told me to hold up 
 my hand and be sworn. I declined to be sworn at that time, 
 and placing my hand on the back of a chair addressed the jury 
 in about the following language : 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 241 
 
 Gentlemen of the Jury : 
 
 On the eve of your adjournment, after a six weeks' scandal- 
 hunt, and after my indictment by your body, you have deemed 
 it proper to summon me to answer certain questions. 
 
 My indictment was secured by perjured testimony, after a 
 promise of immunity by the district attorney to the thieves he 
 manipulates for his official expectations. It is the first shadow 
 of disgrace that has ever fallen across my pathway, and as your 
 body has put this stain and trouble upon me, I shall now, and 
 to the end of these persecutions, give you and the political offi- 
 cers of the government all the defiance I can master. You 
 have acted, not for the enforcement of the revenue laws, but to 
 further the presidential ambition of the Secretary of the Treas- 
 ury, and this Venetian council are simply his tools. 
 
 I decline to be sworn by this jury, and shall not answer ex- 
 cept I am compelled by His Honor, Judge Treat. I know my 
 rights, and know full well that your only object is to twist me 
 into saying something that may injure myself or friends, which 
 I do not propose to do. Now, gentlemen, please consider that 
 I have treated you with all the contempt in my power, and I 
 defy you to perform your worst." 
 
 After an hour or so, the district attorney fixed up a paper re- 
 porting me as an unwilling witness to the court ; and with the 
 foreman I was mustered before the august tribunal of justice, 
 and underwent investigation by Judge Treat. He turned to 
 the statute, and said that I was not compelled to answer any 
 questions that would militate against myself, but it would be 
 best for me to be sworn, and then do in the premises what I 
 thought right. 
 
 I consented to comply with the rulings of His Honor, went 
 again to the Grand Jury room, was sworn, and answered a 
 number of questions propounded to me by the district attorney, 
 to the infinite disappointment and disgust of the jury. I was 
 finally released as an unusually stubborn witness, and since I 
 knew nothing of wrong against General O. E. Babcock or 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 President Grant, these political conspirators had no further use 
 for me. The whole prosecution was inaugurated and contin- 
 ued for the purpose of smirching the occupants of the White 
 House. 
 
 The same character of indictment was found against me in 
 the Western District of Missouri that had been secured in the 
 Eastern District ; the prosecution having determined to make 
 sure of me anyhow, and put me on the legal rack at the first 
 court assembled in Jefferson City. 
 
 The most outrageous newspaper lies were sent all over the 
 country about me. One day I had sailed to Europe from the 
 port of New York with a hundred thousand dollars in a grip- 
 sack. The next day I had jumped my bail bcr.d, and gone to 
 Mexico. Soon after, I had committed suicide by leaping from 
 the St. Louis bridge, and the next moment my wife had died 
 of a broken heart in consideration of the ruin I had wrought. 
 
 All this vacation time I was drinking spring water and other 
 exhilarating fluids near Green Lake, Wisconsin, dancing and 
 singing at the Oakwood Hotel, jesting with beautiful tourists, 
 fishing for bass and pickerel in the green waters of the lake, 
 and in twilight hours wandering in the grove with my wife and 
 her lady friends, rollicking away in love and poetry. 
 
 If the newspaper puritans knew how happy I was, and the 
 real indifference I felt at their efforts to put me in prison, a 
 hardware factory would not be sufficient to furnish files for their 
 biting. 
 
 Political sycophants and personal cowards had little concep- 
 tion of the determined character they were dealing with ; for 
 if they but knew it, even the scaffold has no more terrors for 
 me than the prison, when my heart and soul are grounded in 
 the right. But the human midgets who pursued me had no 
 thought of what a true man will do when pursued by political 
 frauds. In life they doubt and hate themselves, and in death 
 they are detested and forgotten. 
 
 Complications existing between the duplicate indictment at 
 Jefferson City and the one in St. Louis, culminated in my 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 243 
 
 sueing out a writ of habeas corpus touching the matter of arrest 
 and bail. The case was heard before the full bench of the 
 United States Court. Justice Miller, of the Supreme Court, 
 Judge Dillon, of the Circuit Court, and Judge Treat, of the 
 District Court, heard the motion for release from arrest. When 
 the hour arrived, Marshal C. A. Newcomb produced me in 
 court with his return to the writ. The court-house was full of 
 anxious and curious spectators. My lawyer was not present to 
 argue the motion, so I concluded to argue the case myself, not- 
 withstanding the old adage that, " A man who acts as his own 
 lawyer has a fool for a client. ' ' But I have never been much 
 alarmed at the axioms sharpers set up to control cowards. 
 
 The following short speech was made to the bench, with a 
 spirit of satire and earnestness : 
 
 " May it please the court, I have to say, Ji reply to the hasty 
 action of the marshal in returning the writ of habeas corpus 
 before the expiration of the three days allowed him by law, 
 that my attorney, Judge Chester H. Krum, is now in Jefferson 
 City, and will not probably return before Saturday. In con- 
 sideration of this fact, I pray your honor to grant me the five 
 days allowed by law in which to prepare for the defense of my 
 personal liberty. 
 
 I am ready and willing to give bail for any charges that are 
 pending against me in Jefferson City, but as I am under bond 
 to appear here from day to day, and not being endowed with 
 the elements of ubiquity, I trust this honorable court will hold 
 me to answer its demands on the principle that the first mort- 
 gage takes precedence against all subsequent claims. Like Des- 
 demona, I have a divided duty to perform, and while I shall 
 give to Brabantio all the legal friendship that is asked, I give 
 to Othello that love born of respect and duty. 
 
 Notwithstanding the cowardly reports of the newspapers that 
 I had absconded for foreign lands and was a fugitive from jus- 
 tice, I stand here to-day as a voluntary testimonial to their 
 falsehoods. While life lasts, I shall never desert my family, 
 
244 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 my honor, or the duty I owe my fellow man ; and all I ask, 
 standing here upon the threshold of the courts of my country, 
 is simple, unadulterated justice. " 
 
 Justice Miller said the matter could stand over till Monday 
 next. He also stated that he knew of no reason why the pris- 
 oner could not give bail in St. Louis without being required 
 to go to Jefferson City for that purpose. 
 
 It was consoling to know that through the spring and sum- 
 mer of 1875, tne friends in and out of power, whom I had 
 known for many years, never lost faith in me. 
 
 I append hereto an autograph letter, by permission, from 
 General F. E. Spinner, who had been for more than fourteen 
 years the watch dog of the Treasury, but who was finally forced 
 out of office by Bristow, because he would not "Bend the preg- 
 nant hinges of the knee, that thrift might follow fawning. ' ' 
 
 In the midst of my legal troubles, I called at the headquar- 
 ters of Gen. W. T. Sherman for the purpose of getting a copy 
 of his Memoirs of the Rebellion. He was located in St. Louis 
 at the time, with most of his staff gentlemen whom I met in 
 the social walks of life. Col. Audenried, a brave and gallant 
 gentleman, ushered me into the General's room. We greeted 
 each other as soldier acquaintances, and I disclosed my busi- 
 ness with the remark that I should be pleased to have him 
 write his name in his Memoirs as a remembrance. 
 
 He at once said : "Joyce, what is this infernal thing I see 
 in the papers about whiskey indictments against yourself and 
 others?" 
 
 I told him it was nothing out a political move of the Secre- 
 tary of the Treasury, to bring himself into national notice on 
 a very small capital, and, as a reformer, endeavor to clutch 
 the Presidency. 
 
 Sherman said : "You know I am an everlasting friend of a 
 good and brave soldier, and what I want to know from you is 
 this : Are you right, or are you wrong ? If wrong, I'm against 
 you; and if right, I'll stand by you to the last," 
 
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246 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 I assured him I was right, and that in the coming years he 
 would be convinced of my truth and integrity. Upon the fly- 
 leaf of his book he then placed the following inscription : 
 
 " Inscribed to my friend and fellow soldier, Lieut.-Col. John A. Joyce, 
 who bears an honorable wound received at Kenesaw. 
 
 With the compliments and best wishes of W. T. SHERMAN, 
 
 Saint Louis, General. 
 
 June 24, 1875. 
 
 Bristow was desperately in earnest in pushing uny trial at 
 Jefferson when his henchmen at St. Louis found that I could 
 not be used for his political ambition. Orders had gone out 
 to the District Attorney to push me at once to trial, and force 
 me into measures or prison. 
 
 The newspapers kept up a fusillade of buck and ball, shot 
 and shell. Detectives were on the track of every man who 
 dared to sympathize with the indicted parties, and it was worth 
 a citizen's reputation to go upon the bond of any defendant. 
 A long, snaky, sniveling hypocrite wearing the harness of the 
 Department of Justice in St. Louis, did not hesitate to throw 
 odium on some of the best people of Missouri who had the 
 bravery to stand by friends for their personal appearance when 
 the courts demanded their presence. This walking blacksnake 
 even telegraphed to District Att'y Botsford that the bond I had 
 given was a "straw" bond, although the day of the receipt of 
 the dispatch I was present in the court-room of Judge Krekel, 
 who rebuked the superserviceable official toady by stating that 
 if the bond was "straw," the gentleman himself was not. 
 
 My case was called up in September before Arnold Krekel, 
 the United States District Judge ; and while I gave twelve 
 sworn reasons for a continuance to the next term of the court, 
 they were brushed aside as chaff, and my case set for absolute 
 trial on the 2oth of October, and I began to collect evidence 
 for my defense, during the few days left me before trial. 
 
 The four counts in my indictment charged that I conspired 
 with one Feineman, a rectifier, and Sheehan, a distiller, and 
 that I did not report knowledge of fraud to my superior officers. 
 
tu^ 
 
 CS<^ ^- 
 
24 8 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 On the Qth of October, 1875, ^ called at the Treasury De- 
 partment in Washington for the purpose of securing an official 
 copy of a report I had previously made in regard to the very 
 parties with whom it was alleged I conspired to defraud the 
 revenue. 
 
 I saw Commissioner Pratt and procured the paper I wished, 
 took it to Mr. Bristow, the Secretary of the Treasury, who at- 
 tached the following official certificate that I desired to use in 
 evidence at my trial : 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, \ 
 Treasuiy Department, Oct. pth, 1875. / 
 
 Pursuant to Section 882 of the Revised Statutes, I hereby certify that the 
 annexed are true copies of original papers on file in this Department. 
 
 ,- * s In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused 
 -j Seal. Y th e sea j o f t h e Treasury Department to be affixed, on the 
 
 day and year first above written. 
 
 [Signed] B. H. BRISTO\Y, 
 
 Secretary of the Treasury. 
 
 When Bristow signed the above certificate in my presence, 
 and delivered the document into my hands, he threw himself 
 back in his official chair and opened the following plastic con- 
 versation : 
 
 "Colonel, I'm sorry that you have got into this trouble ; I 
 have heard of you as a gallant soldier from Kentucky, and it 
 pains me to see any man from -our state,' who fought for the 
 Union, in jeopardy. All I wish is to make a success of these 
 whiskey prosecutions, and if you will assist me I'll see that you 
 have no trouble." 
 
 I replied that I was just as sorry as he was perhaps more 
 that these troubles had come upon me ; but how I could assist 
 him in making a success of the prosecution was a mystery, as 
 he knew that I had no knowledge of the whiskey frauds in 
 Missouri. 
 
 He said: "Well, Colonel, that's all right; I have no dis- 
 position to pursue you to prison, as you were a mere subordi- 
 nate ; but I feel that these parties over the way (pointing to 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 249 
 
 the White House) were the responsible heads of the whole 
 whiskey conspiracy, and I know you are intimate with them. 
 
 I said I knew nothing about it, and so far as the White House 
 people were concerned, I had never in the whole course of our 
 political and personal friendship spoken to them about whiskey 
 frauds. 
 
 He looked up and smiled with a bland expression, and re- 
 marked : "Well, if you want to go to prison for other people, it 
 is none of my business. ' ' 
 
 I arose from my seat by his official chair, and replied to the 
 cunning bid he had put in for state's evidence : Mr. Secretary, 
 I told you candidly and truthfully that I knew nothing of frauds 
 upon the revenue ; and I regard your efforts to put me in the 
 light of an informer as an insult, and your desire to bring 
 higher officers into disgrace, a piece of injustice. 
 
 That speech sent me to prison. I then bowed myself out of 
 his office and have not spoken to him from that day to this. 
 
 Promptly on the 2oth of October, 1875, 1 was placed on trial 
 at Jefferson City, upon the following four counts of the indict- 
 ment : 
 
 1. That one John A. Joyce, late of the Western District of Missouri, 
 and a United States Revenue Agent, had, while acting as said Revenue 
 Agent, knowledge and information that B. A. Feineman and F. A. Hassel- 
 man, rectifiers and wholesale liquor dealers, neglected to make an entry in 
 their books of 243 original packages of distilled spirits which had been 
 received by them from Edward Sheehan and John P. Sheehan, distillers; 
 that said Joyce, who was a Revenue Agent, failed to report in writing said 
 knowledge and information of said violation of the Revenue laws. 
 
 2. That he (Joyce) knew of said 1>. A. Feineman & Co. having emptied 
 243 packages of distilled spirits without first having effaced and obliterated 
 the marks, stamps and brands thereon, and the same he failed to report, as 
 required by law. 
 
 3. That Sheehan & Son were engaged in and carried on the business 
 of distillers of distilled spirits, at St. Joseph, with intent to defraud the 
 United States Government of the tax on the spirits distilled by them, and 
 that the said John A. Joyce did then and there fail, as such officer, to report, 
 in writing, said knowledge and information of said violation, which was 
 known to him, to his next superior officer. 
 
250 A 1 CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 4. That said John A. Joyce did, on the last day of April, 1874, at St. 
 Joseph, Mo., then and there conspire and collude with Edward Sheehan & 
 Son to distill and sell distilled spirits without paying the taxes due the 
 United States thereon, and to divide between themselves the gains and 
 profits arising thereirom. 
 
 Feineman, the rectifier at Kansas City, said in his evi- 
 dence : " I did not tell Joyce whether the whiskey entered on 
 my books was straight or crooked ; he did not ask me ; I gave 
 him to understand that all the whiskey on my books was 
 straight." 
 
 Dr. Joshua Thorne, a former Assessor of Internal Revenue, 
 and a voluble man, said : " I remember talking with Joyce in 
 May, 1873, m regard to making whiskey, but as I was afraid 
 to talk with him about whiskey, introduced him to Mr. Kings- 
 bury." 
 
 Mr. E. W. Kingsbury, a United States Storekeeper, said : 
 "I had a conversation with Joyce in the summer of 1872, 
 about raising some money out of the-whiskey business for elec- 
 tion purposes. That was the first and only conversation I had 
 with Joyce, and I suppose he had something to do with my 
 removal. I have not had kindly feelings towards him since 
 that time." 
 
 Henry Borngesser, the gauger at Sheehan's St. Joseph dis- 
 tillery, said : "Joyce was at our distillery once ; he told me not 
 to use such large tacks in putting on stamps. This was all the 
 conversation we had. I knew distilled spirits were manufac- 
 tured and shipped without payment of tax. I am indicted." 
 
 Mr. A. W. Wells, Deputy Collector, said : "I knew of an 
 order changing storekeepers and gangers in the district ; saw 
 Mr. Joyce about the time, and told Mr. Wilkinson that there 
 would have to be a change made in the storekeepers ; that Mr. 
 Bittenger would be gauger, and I would be storekeeper." 
 
 John P. Sheehan, the son and foreman of Sheehan's distil- 
 lery, said: "We began shipping illicit spirits in 1873, an< ^ 
 ceased about the i5th of April, 1875. We stopped shipment 
 before Joyce came to see us. ' ' 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 251 
 
 Ferdinand Rendleman, the storekeeper at Sheehan's distill- 
 ery, said : " Joyce was at our distillery with Mr. Bittenger, just 
 before the seizure. He looked over our books, and took some 
 numbers. Sheehan was excited in the presence of Joyce, when 
 he began his examination of the books. I ran away to Texas 
 when the seizure was made, and was brought back to be used 
 as a witness. I am indicted for fraud. I got fifty cents a bar- 
 rel from Mr. Sheehan tor allowing him to take the crooked 
 whiskey away from the distillery. Borngesser, the gauger, got 
 one dollar a barrel for helping to steal the whiskey. All this 
 time we got our pay from the government." 
 
 Col. Wm. H. Parker, Collector of Internal Revenue for 
 Colorado, said : "I talked with Joyce in his room in his hotel 
 at Kansas City, regarding the seizure of several rectified pack- 
 ages shipped from the the 6th district of Missouri. There was 
 an informality in the marks and brands, and a discrepancy in 
 the guaging. I told Mr. Joyce there was a discrepancy of two 
 or three per cent, in proof between the gauge of Hamilton, of 
 Denver, and Marsh, of Kansas City, but this might naturally 
 occur. 
 
 Col. Joyce asked me to furnish him with a copy of dupli- 
 cate numbers, that he might search the rectifiers' and distillers' 
 books. I visited Feineman's establishment with Joyce, staid 
 about an hour, and we left together. 
 
 Col. Joyce did not invite Supervisor Hedrick, Revenue 
 Agent Brown or myself to examine the books ; neither did he 
 suggest or intimate that it would be as well not to examine 
 them. We. were all officers and could examine the books as 
 well as Joyce. 
 
 Frank Hamilton, gauger, said : "I saw Joyce and Parker at 
 the Pacific House. Col. Parker had the memorandum serial 
 numbers of the barrels that had been shipped by Feineman. 
 Joyce did not make any excuse for Feineman. Joyce came 
 from St. Louis to Kansas City to meet us. He did not apolo- 
 gize for Feineman & Co. Joyce took us all over to Feme- 
 man's, and left us there to examine what we wished." 
 
25 2 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 George Walker, clerk of Supervisor Meyer, produced an of- 
 ficial letter of Joyce, showing that a report had been made of 
 what he found in Kansas City. 
 
 E. R. Chapman, clerk, produced an official copy of a letter 
 of Joyce to the Department. 
 
 A. M. Crane, Revenue Agent, showed that the serial num- 
 bers are only entered once in the books, whereas there may be 
 duplicate numbers in existence. Sheehan's books and Feine- 
 man's books coincide exactly as to sales and purchases. Pack- 
 ages may be shipped which are not on the books. 
 
 The foregoing is the evidence of the government taken from 
 the official record of the court proceedings. Now, after the 
 lapse of eight years, when a calm view can be taken of those 
 inquisition days, I simply offer to an honest world, and the 
 friends who know me best, the following reports as a clear re- 
 buttal of the evidence advanced by the prosecution. 
 
 The reports will give the lie to the counts in the indictment. 
 I honestly reported the figurative theory I found on the recti- 
 fiers' and distillers' books in Missouri, but did not report the 
 marks and brands on the barrels in Colorado, because I did 
 not have an opportunity to examine the material facts. 
 
 (COPY OF TELEGRAM.) 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri, April 23, 1875. 
 Hon. J. W. DOUGLASS, 
 
 Com'r Int. Rev., Washington, D. C. 
 
 Pursuant with telegram April seventeenth (17), to the Supervisor, 
 "have conferred with Collector Parker, of Colorado, relative to detention of 
 spirits from the District. Has Parker reported seizures ? 
 
 (Signed) JNO. A. JOYCE, Rev. Agent. 
 
 (COPY.) 
 
 UNITED STATES INTERNAL REVENUE. 
 Supervisor's Office, Dist. of Missouri, Kansas and Arkansas, 
 
 St. Louis, April 26th, 1875. 
 Sir: 
 
 I have the honor to state that in accordance with instructions, on the 
 l8th inst., I proceeded to Kansas City, Mo., to confer with Collector W. 
 H. Parker in relation to the detention of certain rectified spirits in Colorado 
 that had been shipped from this supervising district. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 253 
 
 I met Collector Parker, Ganger Hamilton, Revenue Agent Brown and 
 Supervisor Hedrick, and heard the verbal statement of the Collector touch- 
 ing the causes that induced him to detain the spirits in question. 
 
 Several packages have been detained or seized, belonging to II. W. Gil- 
 lett, of Leavenworth, Kansas; Westheimer Brothers, of St. Joseph; and 
 B. A. Feineman & Co., of Kansas City, Mo.; and two or three lots from 
 liquor men in this city. 
 
 Collector Parker placed in my hands a memorandum of serial numbers 
 taken from some thirteen barrels out of the hundred and two rectified pack- 
 ages detained at Granada, Col., which were shipped to Chick, Brown & Co. 
 by B. A. Feineman, of Kansas City. 
 
 I traced the serial numbers in question through the books of Feineman 
 to the distillery of Edward Sheehan & Son, and the rectifying house of S. 
 Adler & Co., of St. Joseph, and followed the dumping notices (Form 122} 
 into the office of Collector C. B. Wilkinson, 6th Dist. Mo., and find them 
 properly reported in accordance with law and regulations. 
 
 Collector Parker stated to me that the causes which led him to detain the 
 spirits in question were the omission of some portions of the marks and 
 brands on the barrels, and a difference of one or two per cent, below proof- 
 marks, or a difference of one wine gallon to the barrel ; all of which causes 
 may be explained by the different mode of gauging by the respective gaug- 
 ers and the leakage and evaporation that will take place in the course of 
 time and distance of transportation. 
 
 In my investigation of this matter I cannot find where the Government 
 has been defrauded out of a dollar; and while some of the exact marks 
 and brands may have been omitted by the gangers differing themselves res- 
 pecting the contents of the casks, yet I have been unable to trace any fraud- 
 ulent transactions by the owners of the spirit?. 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 Hon. J. W. DOUGLASS, (Signed) JOHN A. JOYCE, 
 
 Com'r Internal Revenue, Revenue Agent. 
 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 After a trial of three days, Judge Krekel charged the jury in 
 the following language and logic : 
 
 The first three counts of the indictment charge the same offense, the hav- 
 ing knowledge or information of a violation of the revenue law, and failing 
 to report such knowledge or information to his superior officer, as required 
 by law. They differ in this, that the first count charges the violation to have 
 been by Feineman & Co., by not making the entries in their books as re- 
 quired by law; the second count, that Feineman & Co. emptied packages 
 
2 54 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 without canceling and obliterating stamps, as required by law; and the 
 third count, that Sheehan & Son distilled spirits with intent to defraud the 
 United States of the tax. By the setting out of the specific knowledge or 
 information, it is intended to advise the defendant with what he is charged, 
 and in your passing upon either of the three counts, you should find that 
 the defendant had the knowledge or information of the offenses specifically 
 set out. You should pass upon each of these counts, and find whether the 
 defendant, Joyce, had knowledge or information thereof and failed to report 
 in writing to his superior ofikers. You will find upon each count, guilty or 
 not guilty, as in your opinion the evidence may justify. 
 
 The fourth count of the indictment charges that defendant Joyce con- 
 spired and colluded with Edward Sheehan to distill or sell spirits to defraud 
 the United States of the tax. By conspiring is here meant an understanding 
 between Joyce and Sheehan that they would aid and assist each other in 
 the distilling and selling of spirits without paying the tax. The existence 
 of such a conspiracy you must find from the evidence. Whether you will 
 find such a conspiracy to have existed unless some act in furtherance thereof 
 was done, is for you to determine. 
 
 About four o'clock on the afternoon of October 23d, 1875, 
 the jury after an absence of over four hours, brought in a ver- 
 dict of guilty on the four counts in the indictment. It was 
 Saturday, and they wished to get home to their friends and 
 families in the country. Mr. Cox, of the jury, had a sick wife ; 
 Mr. Fullilove had a cramp in his stomach ; Mr. Leith wanted 
 to hold out for innocence to the last ; but in order to secure a 
 verdict, he finally consented to toss up coppers with Mr. John- 
 son heads they win, tails I lose. The toss of the copper set- 
 tled my case, and these " good and true men" brought me in 
 guilty of conspiracy with Edward Sheehan, with whom not 
 a single overt act was proven, but on the contrary, his own son 
 said that they had ceased illicit distilling before I visited their 
 establishment, and that when I examined the books, the fifty 
 cent thief, Rendleman, said, "Sheehan was very much excited 
 at my presence." Is it reasonable that one conspirator should 
 be "excited" at the presence of another? 
 
 In the days of Blackstone and the common law, if a jury 
 should secure a verdict by chance, in casting lots or tossing up 
 a penny, the whole thing would have been pronounced null and 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 255 
 
 void. But in the days of political ambition and public clamor, 
 with pliant people for jurymen, acknowledged thieves for wit- 
 nesses and a severe man for judge, the Lord himself would have 
 stood no chance for acquittal, but suffered conviction and cru- 
 cifixion as of old. 
 
 The prosecuting officers now felt sure that this "coon" 
 would come down from his lofty oak and crawl in the dust for 
 immunity from punishment. 
 
 My lawyer made a motion for a new trial, pending the de- 
 termination of the court. 
 
 I was given over to the custody of the marshal, but the gov- 
 ernment officers were so rampant that in a few days the judge, 
 who kept one eye on the law and the other on the newspapers, 
 ordered me to jail, although I was under bonds for twenty-five 
 thousand dollars. Everybody who knew me felt that I would 
 not run away to satisfy the prosecution, if a million dollars in 
 gold were offered me as an inducement. 
 
 I remained in jail until the i3th of November, without the 
 judge giving a single indication of granting me a new trial. 
 Punishment without sentence was being inflicted from day to 
 day, with no surety that months might not march into years, 
 and death from exposure ensue before I began to move through 
 the dark tunnel of regular imprisonment. 
 
 Letters, telegrams and officers moved about from Washing- 
 ton to St. Louis and Jefferson City, all looking to the spring 
 trials to come off at St. Louis, against McKee, Avery, and par- 
 ticularly General Babcock. 
 
 The government imagined that I was the club to smash Bab- 
 cock, and they would simply hold me in jail as a prospective 
 witness, and when the time came launch me into St. Louis. 
 
 The district attorneys at St. Louis and at Jefferson City, and 
 other officers, had long and secret consultations as to how they 
 could best use me in the interest of the prosecution. 
 
 I was secretly advised by "a little bird" of everything that 
 the cabal did, and just as Dyer had fixed his legal papers to 
 transfer me to the " Future Great," I had my attorney, Major 
 
25 6 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 A.. M. Lay, go into court and demand an immediate sentence 
 upon the indictment on which I was convicted. 
 
 A thunder-clap from a clear sky could not have been more 
 surprising than this unusual action of mine. The district at- 
 torney and judges were nonplussed, but could not, in decency 
 or law, decline my invitation for sentence on the withdrawal 
 of the motion for a new trial. 
 
 The following letter from my lawyers had its proper weight 
 in determining my action in demanding sentence : 
 
 St. Louis, Nov. nth, 1875. 
 Col. JOHN A. JOYCE, 
 
 Dear Sir : It is manifest that Judge Krekel will suspend action upon 
 your motion for a new trial, so as to enable him to order your removal for 
 trial to this district. Here the indications are all one way that you are to 
 be brought here if possible. We write understandingly. 
 
 There can be but one opinion as to the proper course for you to pursue. 
 Your motion for a new trial ought to be withdrawn, and sentence imposed. 
 This action becomes inevitable in view of the settled purpose to overwhelm 
 you. If you withdraw your motion and demand your sentence, then you 
 will be in a proper position to resist all efforts to subject you to unnecessary 
 trials and more persecution. It does seem to us that you have only one 
 course to pursue. If you resolutely withdraw your motion and demand 
 sentence, you will stand better before the country. 
 
 We advise this course candidly, earnestly, and as we conceive for your 
 own best interest. If you conclude to take this course, we earnestly advise 
 you to make no speech before the Court, but simply to take whatever sen- 
 tence may be imposed resolutely and manfully, as you have met everything 
 thus far. The assurances and indications of clemency from Washington 
 are clear and favorable. You must do nothing to prejudice yourself. But 
 if you do come here notwithstanding the withdrawal of your motion, then 
 the sympathies of the people will be with you as a victim of mere persecu- 
 tion; your prosecution would be unjust. The matter is in your own hands. 
 Very truly, JEFF. CHANDLER. 
 
 KRUM & MADILL 
 
 When I found what the officials wanted, I concluded to act 
 the other way. 
 
 On the 1 3th of November, I was taken to the court-house for 
 sentence. It became noised about Jefferson City that I was 
 going to make a speech in my own defense. The court-house 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 257 
 
 was full of curious listeners, a jury was sitting in the box, the 
 judge came on the bench, and all was quiet and solemn as the 
 
 grave. 
 
 When the preliminary speeches of the lawyers were finished, 
 Judge Krekel asked me if I had anything to say before sentence 
 was passed. I arose with a defiant attitude, and delivered the 
 following : 
 
 "Before this honorable court passes sentence, I beg leave to 
 state that my conviction was secured by the perjured testimony 
 of self-convicted thieves Feineman, the rectifier, Borngesser, 
 the guager, and Rendleman, the storekeeper, all lineal descend- 
 ants of those ancient scoundrels who crucified Christ, came 
 upon the witness stand, and paraded their own infamy by ac- 
 knowledging that they had stolen whiskey from the govern- 
 ment, through a term of years at the rate of from one dollar to 
 fifty cents per barrel. The pencil of Gustave Dore could not 
 do justice to those three wandering Israelites, who seemed ever 
 on the lookout to steal small things when big ones were conven- 
 iently at hand. Feineman and Fagin are identical characters, 
 and should be immortalized in living infamy. I dismiss these 
 pillars of fraud and perjury, consigning them to the devouring 
 fury of a rotten conscience. 
 
 I was indicted for failure to report in writing certain alleged 
 knowledge and information of certain fraudulent transactions 
 of petrified perjurers. The jury found me guilty on the counts, 
 but as a matter of fact the conclusion was as false as the evi- 
 dence. I agree that it had the appearance to the jury of fail- 
 ure of duty. We know, however, thac things are hot always 
 what they seem. I simply declare, upon my honor as a man 
 and my allegiance as an American citizen, here, in tne presence 
 of this honorable Court, to the whole world, and facing my 
 God, that I am absolutely innocent of the charges trumped up 
 against me by pretended friends and viper enemies. 
 
 It has not been shown in evidence, or even intimated 'by 
 anybody, that I ever received a single cent in fraud of the rev- 
 
25 8 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 enue. Then where is the motive that induced me to withhold 
 the information ? I did make a report in writing to the Super- 
 visor and Commissioner Douglass. The report, it is alleged, was 
 not full. Neither was the information in my possession full or 
 complete, as the facts were in Colorado, out of my district, and 
 the theory I reported was in Missouri. 
 
 The district attorney of the United States, in his concluding 
 speech, introduced my copy-book, showing the transmittal let- 
 ter to the supervisor as something fraudulent. My lawyers or 
 myself had no opportunity to explain the letter in evidence, 
 which could have been done to the utmost satisfaction of every- 
 body concerned. 
 
 Your Honor, from the beginning of the case to the end, ex- 
 tended consideration and ordinary rulings. For this I thank you 
 in the name of the people and in the name of justice. I stand 
 here to-day strong and bold in conscious innocence. My heart 
 is actuated by that noble impulse that nerved Winkelried when 
 he opened a breach for the liberty of his country ; or by that 
 lofty courage that inspired Sir Walter Raleigh at the block ! 
 Like Raleigh I may have puffed smoke through the window at 
 the execution of some official Essex ; but I never trampled upon 
 the royal robes of the virgin queen ! 
 
 For myself I have no fear of any punishment on earth, yet 
 in behalf of my past good character, this being the first suspi- 
 ciorTof guilt that ever darkened my life, and in consideration 
 of the support I owe my wife and children, I ask that magna- 
 nimity at this bar of justice that would be reasonably claimed 
 by yourself under like circumstances. 
 
 A few short years will sepulchre the living of to-day with the 
 dead of yesterday, and the celestial sunlight of to-morrow will 
 bring us all to the bar of Omnipotence, where the judge, jury, 
 lawyer and client will meet upon the level of eternity and part 
 upon the square of final judgment. Then all hearts shall be 
 laid bare, and truth will rise in magnificent triumph. The 
 blood of innocence flows free and unruffled through the chan- 
 nels of this frame, and the artificial terrors that surround the 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 259 
 
 victims of crime, find no lodgment in my heart. When I look 
 back to the field of battle where I fought and bled for my 
 country in its hour of terrible trial, I wonder whether patriot- 
 ism is but a name, and gratitude of nations a mockery and 
 sham to lure the brave to destruction. 
 
 My simple sin is that of omission, and for it I suffer the 
 deepest humiliation, while all the glorious services and recol- 
 lections of the past are buried in the grave of forget fulness. 
 Is this right ? Is this just ? 
 
 This epidemical era of reform has arisen like the rush of a 
 mighty flood, and speeds on toward the gulf of punishment. 
 The good and the bad suffer alike. The stream is full of drift- 
 wood and dead timber, while many young oaks and tall syca- 
 mores on the banks are loosed from their firm foundation and 
 dashed into the river of destruction. But the rain falls lightly 
 on the mountains, the sun shines warmly on the plains, and the 
 flood, even now, is settling into its former bed, where the crys- 
 tal waters shall again reflect the green foliage of the oak and 
 sycamore, and the gentle breeze and the birds of spring shall 
 make merry music in the cathedral aisles of generous nature ! 
 
 The prison walls that hemmed in Galileo, Columbus, Tasso 
 and Napoleon did not measure the minds of the men. It is 
 true their bodies suffered some torture, but the proud spirit 
 that rose in their hearts leaped the bounds of clay, and soared 
 away into the illimitable region of science, poetry and war, 
 making them monarchs of the hour, and masters of eternity ! 
 Humble as I am in the walks of life my soul is inspired by 
 their illustrious example ; and it shall be my future endeavor 
 to show the world that although I may suffer for a time the 
 penalty of perjured testimony, yet like a mountain crag I shall 
 breast the pelting storm, and lift my head clear and bold to 
 the coming sunshine of truth and redemption ! I have done." 
 
 Judge Krekel immediately pronounced upon me a sentence 
 of six months imprisonment on the first count, six on the sec- 
 ond, and six on the third; and on the fourth count, for cor.- 
 
2 6o A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 spiracy, which he intimated was not proven, imposed the term 
 of two years, making in all a sentence of three years and a half, 
 in addition to a fine of $2,000. And to add insult to injury, 
 the judge who imposed this cumulative, illegal sentence on 
 one indictment, made out the commitment so that the long 
 term, on the fourth and last count, would begin first. 
 
 But what cared the political conspirators for personal liberty, 
 so they stopped with the hare and ran with the hounds of pub- 
 lic clamor. Montezuma had placed another Aztec on the sac- 
 rificial block to glut the thirst for blood ; and as I was the first 
 immolated, the death-dance -and glee of the conspirators were 
 unbounded. 
 
 The prosecution of Col. A. C. Dawes and Major John L. 
 Bittenger, of St. Joseph, Missouri, was a cruel commentary on 
 justice. The former was a railroad man, and had no more to 
 do with gauger Bittenger in whiskey matters than an unborn 
 < hild. If.Dawes ever sinned, it was through his generosity, and 
 if Bittenger ever fell into fraud, I never knew it. 
 
 The sleuth hounds of the law about St. Joseph were not sat- 
 isfied with smirching the good name of officers, but, for no rea- 
 son in the world, drew in the name of Major H. R. Hartwig, 
 an enlightened German, and others. The officers also made 
 some cruel insinuations against Col. G. H. Koch, a prominent 
 banker of St. Joseph, who happened to sign the bonds of cer- 
 tain officers and citizens as a personal accommodation. The 
 cradle, the home, the street and the grave were searched by 
 ravenous officials to secure a conviction at all hazard. Yet, 
 where are the strikers of Bristow to-day ? Dispersed and forgot- 
 ten for their subservient, heartless ingratitude and cowardice. 
 
 IMPRISONMENT. 
 
 Just as the sun was sinking behind the western hills and 
 gilding the Missouri River with his golden beams, on the even- 
 ing of November i5th, 1875, I passed the portals of the pris- 
 on and shut out the wolves and jackalls that had pursued me 
 for many months. A feeling of quiet and relief pervaded my 
 heart when this goal of misfortune closed its portals upon me. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 2 fa 
 
 I felt exhausted, as I had often felt after a day of battle and 
 blood, and that bleak November night, with a quiet conscience, 
 I slept soundly upon the floor of a stone cell. It was certain- 
 ly a new experience to a sane man, and a strange situation, to 
 one who knew himself to be innocent, the victim of a political 
 conspiracy more cruel than any whiskey men could establish. 
 
 But my mind had long been made up to the very worst dose 
 the government could administer, and I was prepared to take 
 a bumper of gall or quaff the hemlock with the stoical inde- 
 pendence of Socrates. 
 
 The officers of the prison treated me with the greatest kind- 
 ness and consideration. They had heard of me in Missouri for 
 many years as a liberal citizen to those who were under the 
 political harrow ; they knew me as a man of education, and be- 
 lieved me to be the victim of a political persecution. 
 
 I desired to do something in the prison to relieve the mo- 
 notony of the lingering hours, and requested work. There 
 were more than thirteen hundred prisoners in the institution. 
 
 The "Old Hall" contained about six hundred prisoners, 
 three tiers of cells rising to the roof and terminating against 
 the rough stone walls that shut out the world. A state guard 
 had charge of this building, whose business it was to release 
 the prisoners each morning for breakfast and work, and in the 
 evening to count them in two by two, and lock them up for 
 the night. Capt. W. H. Bradbury was the executive officer 
 of the prison. He had been connected with it about thirty 
 years, and was a terror to evil-doers ; but to those who per- 
 formed their duty silently and uncomplainingly, he was ever 
 considerate and friendly. He asked me if I wished to take 
 charge of the "Old Hall " as a confidential man for the state, 
 saying it would save fifty dollars a month. I took the keys, 
 and superintended the exit and entrance of prisoners morning 
 and evening for more than a year. When my five turnkeys 
 locked and bolted the cells, I in turn locked them up, took 
 the keys to the round-house, and then went to my own room 
 in the hospital outside the walls. 
 
262 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 My room was large and comfortable, and was never locked. 
 Two windows looked out on the waters of the Missouri, and 
 two others overlooked the house-tops of Jefferson City, with 
 the dome of the capitol and the hills beyond looming up like 
 sentinels guarding the state. My snug quarters were carpeted, 
 and on a corner table I had a collection of writing material 
 and books to amuse myself with in lonely hours. 
 
 The measured tread of the guard, as he paced his lonely 
 rounds, sounded dull and solemn in the silent night ; and when 
 the storms of winter and the howling winds of March shrieked 
 about the high walls and lookout towers, a shiver of nameless 
 dread shot across my soul and awoke in my heart messengers 
 of mournful memories. 
 
 Often have I read the long, long night through, with Bacon, 
 Montaigne, Shakspeare, Horace, Plato, Dickens, Goldsmith, 
 Junius and Irving for my companions ; and when the cool, 
 gray shadows of morning crept over the eastern hills, I would 
 still be pondering upon the beauty of thought and wisdom of 
 these authors, who brought me the sweetest consolation in the 
 gloomy hours of imprisonment. 
 
 When all was as silent as the grave, and I imagined every- 
 body was at rest but the sentinel, Capt. Bradbury, with his 
 severe face and tall form, would sometimes enter my room 
 to bid me good night. "Ah, writing more poetry, are you?" 
 would be his salutation. 
 
 I replied, that I was far away from his control, communing 
 with my wife and children, and as the spiritual part of man 
 could not be bound or confined by courts or prisons, he would 
 permit me to muse away into the realms of fancy. 
 
 The Captain often sat with me by the hour, and seemed ever 
 interested in my conversation. In my presence his stern look 
 melted into kindness, and his iron hand held out the olive 
 branch of generosity and love. Wardens Sebree, Willis and 
 Bradbury were my friends, and never lost an opportunity to 
 make my situation as pleasant as the strict rules would permit. 
 From the time I entered the halls of punishment to the mo- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 263 
 
 ment of my retirement, there was not a word said nor an act 
 performed that grated upon my sensibilities as a man. 
 
 Travelers from state and nation visited the prison almost 
 daily; and as I had been an object of national notoriety, the 
 people were curious to see a man who defied judge, jury and 
 government. Many came from motives of genuine sympathy, 
 and even when tourists and strangers rushed to see and talk 
 with me, I never denied them the opportunity. 
 
 I have never, up to the present moment, realized that I 
 served a single day in prison, and the whole affair seems to 
 me now like the phantasmagoria of a vanished dream, leaving 
 no remembrance behind but the audacity of a soul that the 
 rude blasts of the world could not humiliate or subdue. 
 
 My oration before the court was copied and commented upon 
 by all the prominent papers in the United States, and while 
 some of them rebuked me for unheard-of boldness, the large 
 majority wondered at my audacity and complimented my elo- 
 quence under the trying ordeal of sentence. 
 
 From a large number of complimentary editorial comments, 
 I submit the following leader from the Daily Inter- Ocean, 
 of Chicago : 
 
 WHISKEY AND RHETORIC. 
 
 That the wind is tempered to the shorn lamb and the burden fitted to the 
 back which is designed to carry it, are again demonstrated by the circum- 
 stances attending the recent sentence of ex-Revenue Agent Joyce at Jefferson 
 City, Mo., for complicity in whiskey frauds. It is evident that Joyce rather 
 enjoyed the proceeding. It gave him a chance for a stunning speech, which 
 he never could have made otherwise, and presented an opportunity to hand 
 down his name beside the names of Sir Walter Raleigh, Galileo, Napoleon 
 and others, which he embraced with an exultation peculiar to that heroic 
 class with whom he thus became identified. For certainly that speech of 
 Joyce's was no ordinary effort. It was not the disconnected, disjointed, in- 
 elegant harangue of your vulgar criminal. It is plain that Joyce has be- 
 come familiar with noble lives and grand examples. Sentimentally, too, he 
 agreed with them, but when it came to practical test, Joyce was wanting. 
 He put his virtue all into theory, and hadn't enough left to practice with. 
 And yet, as we said, he rather seemed to enjoy his sentence, because of the 
 opportunity it gave him to make a very remarkable speech. 
 
264 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 We do not know that his remarks were impromptu ; it is rather probable, 
 indeed, that they were not; that they were carefully thought over and pre- 
 pared purposely for effect. Still, that does not alter the fact that the speech 
 was a singularly able one in spite of its rather grandiloquent tone. For 
 there are times when grandiloquence is not altogether inappropriate, and 
 however carelessly the public were disposed to regard the proceedings of 
 the court at Jefferson City, to the prisoner it was a time of great solemnity 
 and great trial, when figures, metaphors and comparisons which would not 
 have been allowable otherwise were pardonable. 
 
 Mr. Joyce's opening denunciation of the witnesses against him reminds 
 us of Daniel O'ConnelPs allusion to Disraeli, whom he described as "a lin- 
 eal descendant and heir-at-law to the impenitent thief who died on the 
 cross." Joyce evidently had this paragraph in his mind when he referrec 
 to "Feineman, the rectifier; Bonngeisser, the gauger, and Rendleman, the 
 storekeeper," as all "lineal descendants of those ancient scoundrels who 
 crucified Christ." Said Mr. Joyce: 
 
 "The pencil of Gustave Dore' could not do justice to those three wan- 
 dering Israelites, who seemed ever on the lookout to steal small things when 
 large ones were conveniently at hand. Feineman and Fagin are identical 
 characters, and should be immortalized in living infamy. I dismiss the ped- 
 dlers of fraud and perjury, consigning them to the devouring fires of a rot- 
 ten conscience." 
 
 Mr. Joyce compared himself to Arnold Winkelreid and Sir Walter Ral- 
 eigh in the following very neat sentence, which, when disassociated from 
 the charge against him, that makes such comparisons a trifle ridiculous, is 
 very good indeed : 
 
 " I stand here to-day strong and bold, conscious of innocence. My heart 
 is actuated by the noble impulse that nerved Winkelreid when he opened a 
 breach for the liberty of his country, or by the lofty courage that inspired 
 Sir Walter Raleigh at the block. Like Raleigh, I may have puffed smoke 
 through the window at the execution of some official Essex, but I never yet 
 trampled upon the royal robes of the Virgin Queen." 
 
 The remainder of the address, as we said before, is rather remarkable, 
 and shows the prisoner to be not only a man of education and extensive 
 reading, but one possessed of a fine imagination and no mean rhetorical 
 powers. His speech was a solemn and reiterated denial of his guilt, and 
 the expression of an abiding confidence in the final vindication of his good 
 name. 
 
 If the charges are well founded, Mr. Joyce has one talent superior to his 
 eloquence, and that is his unexampled impudence. Whatever may be the 
 truth about his guilt, however, it is certain that the Missouri state's prison 
 contains a scholar and an orator such as its gloomy walls have seldom, if 
 ever, held before. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 265 
 
 I received a large number of letters from friends and strang- 
 ers immediately after my incarceration, all of them breathing 
 a spirit of sympathy and encouragement. My lady friends 
 were particularly kind in their expressions of regard and love, 
 saying that no matter what the world thought, they were of 
 the decided belief that I was a persecuted man, and put forth 
 as a vicarious sacrifice for the sins of other people. 
 
 One of the most consoling letters I received was the follow- 
 ing, from. Col. J. C. Normile, District Attorney of the county 
 of St. Louis a man who knew me intimately in days of sun- 
 shine, and believed in me during the storms of misfortune : 
 
 St. Louis, Jan'y 1301, 1876. 
 DEAR JOYCE: 
 
 I received your welcome letter of the ist inst., and would have writ- 
 ten an earlier reply but for the combined result of much work and constitu- 
 tional laziness in the matter of letter-writing. I have nightly resolved to 
 write, and as often suspended my resolution until the following night. 
 
 The Supreme Court, the Court of Appeals, the Criminal Court and the 
 Grand Jury are all in session since Jan. 3d, and having to distribute myself 
 among them all, you will readily see that I have little time at present for 
 concentration sufficient even to write to an old friend like yourself. 
 
 The crowd of the Southern Hotel often speak of you with pleasant rec- 
 ollections of the past, and with regret for your present condition. No one 
 can sing " Mrs. Kearney" like you, they say, and it is also asserted that 
 nobody can enliven an evening of innocent revelry like that mad wag Joyce. 
 I hear this said frequently by those who knew you in better days, when even 
 a shadow of suspicion had not tarnished the luster of your integrity. 
 
 That one so genial, gifted, generous and warm-hearted as you should be 
 found among the Ring, was truly painful to those cherished friends, who 
 were the last to believe it, and the first to defend your fair name whenever 
 assailed. 
 
 The papers keep you posted on passing events, and they also keep us ac- 
 quainted with your business. I see you are engaged in writing a novel and 
 a drama on whiskey-ring troubles. You are imprudent in keeping your 
 mind hot by dwelling so much on these subjects. To forget them, should 
 be your aim. I would suggest to you to perfect yourself in Latin while in 
 prison. You have a good opportunity to become a fine classical scholar. 
 It will be pleasant reading, and in dwelling on the deeds of antiquity your 
 mind will unbend itself from the terrible strain that has been upon it, and 
 which has broken minds as vigorous as yours. Write as little as possible, 
 
266 
 
 A CHECKERED 
 
 and publish nothing. Think on new subjects, and cultivate your brilliant 
 intellect in the calm seclusion of your prison, and you will win a victory 
 from defeat. 
 
 There has been some talk of removing all those who were convicted here 
 to some other place of confinement, where they may have to do disagreeable 
 labor. Keeping quiet at present, and until that has blown over, is your 
 best plan. I don't know how soon business may take me to Jefferson City, 
 but when it does, I will be sure to call and see you personally, and read 
 poetry with you for an afternoon. 
 
 I have your speech on receiving sentence laid away between the leaves 
 of your decoration-day oration, where I will show it to you when you are 
 liberated. You ask if I have forgotten those halcyon days of yore. I have 
 not, and never shall. For no man living had I as warm an attachment as for 
 you in your better days. A friendship, indeed, more disinterested has sel- 
 dom existed between men. I well remember the Joyce of those happy 
 days, and in charity I will draw a veil over those scenes, which I know you 
 will one day wipe out and restore yourself to the confidence of friends that 
 have mourned your trouble. Your sincere friend, 
 
 J. C. NORMILE. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 PRISON REFORM. 
 
 During my sojourn in prison, I studied closely the philosophy 
 of confinement and punishment, looking into the details of 
 each representative case with the eye of a man who wishes to 
 separate the false from the true, the good from the bad. I saw 
 the children of hereditary crime, and the gnarled, crusty crimi- 
 nals of poverty and education come and go like shadows on a 
 dial. It was a school of the ripest knowledge to one of a 
 thoughtful nature, and I made a memorandum of various cases, 
 in order that I might some day give my experience and con- 
 clusions to the world. 
 
 See John Anderson, a poor, pale boy of sixteen, come through 
 the "round gate" with a swing, launched into the prison -yard 
 like a tired bird that had been shot in the wing in a summer 
 flight. He stole a pair of shoes to keep his feet warm, and ran 
 into a baker's shop for a loaf of bread to appease his hunger. 
 The policemen nabbed him, the jury indicted and convicted 
 him, and the district attorney and judge sent him to prison for 
 a term of two years with hard labor. After being shaved, 
 bathed, and a description of his person taken, he was assigned 
 to a cell with a burglar of unenviable age and notoriety. The 
 contractors in the shoe-shop had him detailed to hammer 
 on heels for two years, until he is finally discharged with a poor 
 suit of clothes, and barely enough money to take him to the 
 nearest city, where he enters the ranks of burglars and midnight 
 robbers, to put in practice what he learned of the old reprobate 
 with whom he celled. 
 
 There is Billy Rider, a ward politician, who made himself 
 serviceable in the past to Democratic and Republican leaders, 
 
 267 
 
268 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 by packing caucuses with his rough following. He is an im- 
 pulsive, human wreck, dangerous in midnight saloons, and al- 
 ways ready with a knife to "cut the heart" out of any supposed 
 enemy. He is serving a term of two years for an assault upon 
 the life of his fellow-man, and takes his confinement with the 
 nervous discontent of a caged tiger. Had Billy been reared 
 under happier skies he might have been a good citizen, for his 
 worst enemy acknowledged that there was something generous 
 and good beneath his rough, impulsive exterior. 
 
 Look at Old Jerry Collins coming across the prison yard, 
 bare headed and in his shirt sleeves, winter and summer, offer- 
 ing his ever-present snuff-box to any friend, and exchanging 
 words of kindness with the officers. He murdered his wife in 
 St. Louis with a meat-ax for some imagined infidelity on her 
 part ; was tried and sentenced to be hung ; but, as the governor 
 had doubts as to the sanity of the old, gray wreck, commuted 
 his sentence to imprisonment for life. Jerry was never satis- 
 fied with his commutation, but made periodical applications 
 to have the original sentence of death carried into effect, say- 
 ing that if he knowingly murdered his wife, he deserved death, 
 and if the act was that of an insane man, be should not be in 
 prison, but in the wards of a lunatic asylum. The old fellow 
 had a great deal of common sense. He took a great fancy to me 
 when he found that I wrote poetry and loved flowers. The 
 officers, to satisfy his whims, procured for him flower seeds, and 
 allowed him a little spot of ten by twelve to cultivate his fa- 
 vorite friends. It was a strange sight to see a wife-murderer 
 bending lovingly over budding roses, daisies, violets, morning- 
 glories, and forget-me-nots in the sunny hours of spring, nurs- 
 ing them with a father's care in hot summer days, and covering 
 them up with newspapers when the frosts of fall chilled their 
 life. 
 
 There comes Jack Reno ahead of the long line with the lock 
 step. He moves to the measured tread of twenty years con- 
 finement for cracking open a county safe, and taking forty 
 thousand dollars in bonds. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE, 269 
 
 The robbery was planned with the precision a general plans 
 and executes campaigns. Jack came all the way from Indiana 
 on the information of a "pal," and when the country town was 
 wrapped in slumber after midnight, while his confederate held 
 the string on the outside, to warn him against approaching foot- 
 steps, the bold burglar with his cunning implements cracked 
 the treasury safe, and stole the bonds. Then a race was made 
 for the banks of the Mississippi, but fate and sleep induced the 
 robbers to stop on the wayside too long ; and Jack was cap- 
 tured without the "boodle," tried, convicted and sent to prison 
 to contemplate upon the uncertain to of human success. Jack 
 had some elements of redeeming virtue. He regarded it worse 
 than high treason or murder to betray a friend, and however 
 his moral nature may have been bespotted by a family of natural 
 Indian robbers, he possessed a kind heart for his fellow-prison- 
 ers, and would share the last crust with a cell-mate. It was 
 curious and astonishing to hear him tell of wonderful escapes 
 and daring exploits, boasting of his robbery of persons and 
 banks with the proud air of a man who had performed some 
 noble action, and deemed himself worthy of commendation. 
 Pope must have had Jack Reno in his mind when he said : 
 " Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
 As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
 Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace !" 
 
 There is Fred Biebush, one of the most daring counterfeiters 
 in the United States, and a wholesale shover of the "queer." 
 For thirty years he has been meat for detectives, policemen, 
 courts and prison officers, eluding their grasp on many an oc- 
 casion, but serving three or four terms in prison. He is a 
 stalwart, nervous, rickety-hitchity man with, all the secret cun- 
 ning of his class, the economy of his Teutonic race, but the 
 victim of his own crimes and the betrayal of his "pals." Had 
 common honesty inspired his heart, he might have been one 
 of the first citizens in the community, an honor to his family 
 and a prop to the state, for certainly his shrewd intellect is of 
 no ordinary character. 
 
270 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 The strange infatuation of crime takes hold of the heart and 
 understanding like a horrible nightmare, and when we attempt 
 to shake it off, pain comes with the waking, and we relapse 
 into the arms of the fiend that governs our soul with a rod of 
 iron. This is especially the case with counterfeiters. Once a 
 counterfeiter, always one. 
 
 See Dutch Charlie coming through the "round gate" for the 
 ninth term of imprisonment, with a step as light and happy as 
 when he departed a few months ago. Thirty years in prison 
 for petty theft has made the old man a natural boarder of the 
 establishment, and the officers say he departs every two or four 
 years with sadness, and returns with a smile upon his familiar 
 face. There is no joy in the outside world for a lone creature 
 from the Fatherland, and when he wanders back through the 
 crooked vista of memory to his mountain cot amid the streams 
 and hills of the Rhine, his heart sinks within him, and he de- 
 liberately commits some minor offence, pleads guilty, and 
 rushes with pleasure to the comforting walls of his prison home. 
 Dutch Charlie could well exclaim with the Prisoner of Chillon : 
 " My very chains and I grew friends, 
 So much a long communion tends 
 To make us what we are ; even I 
 Regained my freedom with a sigh !" 
 
 Charlie Weston was the loneliest character I ever met. His 
 father and mother died when he was very young. A baby sis- 
 ter and himself were the only ones left of a large family. Kind 
 neighbors took up the orphans, and bound them to an old 
 childless farmer in one of the central counties of Missouri. 
 The children grew apace. 
 
 One cold November day, the passionate, crusty farmer at- 
 tempted to flog the eighteen-year-old boy with a blacksnake 
 whip. Human nature, in self-defense, leaped into the strug- 
 gle, and with one blow of a chance club the farmer was felled 
 to the earth, and died almost instantly. Charlie was terribly 
 alarmed, went to the house, told what had occurred, and was ar- 
 rested for murder. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 2 7I 
 
 The trial came off in due season, with no one to give a smile 
 or a cheering word to the orphan boy but his sixteen-year-old 
 sister. The jury found him guilty of murder, and condemned 
 him to be hung, but a merciful governor commuted the sen- 
 tence to life imprisonment. 
 
 A few days after the boy's entrance into gloomy prison walls, 
 he heard that his little sister had died of a broken heart. The 
 last link of earthly love had been thus severed, and his best 
 friend had gone into the shadows of eternity. Like Jean Val 
 Jean, his heart-strings of love and home were snapped asunder, 
 and whether a fugitive among the homes of the opulent or a 
 prison worker at the oar of a galley slave, the future bore no 
 flowers of hope, and the cruel world possessed no charms to 
 soothe his sinking soul. 
 
 Charlie was nearly six feet tall, handsome and manly, with 
 blue eyes and blonde hair. He was duly assigned a cell, put 
 to work in one of the shops, furnished a copy of the prison 
 rules, and there is no record that he ever violated one. 
 
 Days and months ripened into years, and still the dead level 
 of prison monotony went on. Spring came with its birds and 
 flowers ; summer shone with its ripened grain ; autumn with 
 its purple fruit and golden foliage, and winter with its chilling 
 blasts and drifting snows came to pivot up the long, long year. 
 
 Daily and nightly Charlie came and went to his silent cell 
 from constant labor, without a word of encouragement or hope 
 to brace up his mournful moments. He saw other prisoners 
 get letters of love and consolation from absent friends, and re- 
 ceive daily calls to cheer their solemn hours, but for the term 
 of twelve years he never got a letter, or saw a mortal who cared 
 whether he lived or died ! 
 
 The Bible was his constant companion, and out of its rich 
 promises he hoped for peace and forgiveness. He was dead to 
 the world, and might as well be resting in the gloomy grave. 
 Daily and nightly he prayed for relief. 
 
 At last the prison officers took notice of his orderly, faithful, 
 honest work and good behavior. Warden Willis, with his 
 
272 A CHECKERED Z //</.. 
 
 generous heart, and Captain Bradbury, with his iron justice, 
 brought the case of Charlie to the notice of the prison board, 
 and to Lieutenant Governor Brockmeyer, who granted pardon 
 on the 4th of July, 1877. The pardon was communicated to 
 Charlie and all the prisoners on our national holiday, and 
 was the gift of a generous executive to the merit of a man who 
 had been voted by the prisoners as an exemplary and deserv- 
 ing candidate for executive clemency. 
 
 An innocent man, unconscious of premeditated wrong, with 
 no malice aforethought, was thus released after a silent and sol- 
 emn imprisonment of twelve weary years. I saw the stalwart 
 man of thirty when he received notice of pardon, and he gazed 
 into vacancy as one in a dream, not believing that any human 
 being had ever taken interest enough in a friendless man to pro- 
 cure him a pardon. Like an oak struck by a withering blast, he 
 broke down, threw himself on his bench at the table, and cried 
 like a child that had been locked up in a closet by his mother, 
 and forgiven with a kiss. 
 
 When Weston passed through the " round gate," and emerg- 
 ed into liberty, I saw him look back, heave a long-drawn sigh, 
 and vanish with tears coursing down his pale cheeks ; and as 
 he walked out again into the rushing world a free man, I could 
 not help thinking how sad and lonely was his lot. 
 
 " Lone as a solitary cloud, 
 Lone as a corpse within a shroud." 
 
 Century after century has wheeled away into nameless ob- 
 livion, and yet the world has not advanced much in the care 
 and reformation of its criminal classes. The handcuffs, the 
 stocks, the thumbscrews, the rack, starvation, the dungeon 
 chains and the lash are still in existence, but no real reform in 
 the prisoner seems to be attempted or attained. Ignorance, 
 poverty and intemperance are the fruitful parents of crime ; 
 and until a cure for these inherited and acquired evils is found, 
 no good to the convict can come of the present system of pun- 
 ishment and pretence of reformation. 
 
.-/ CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 273 
 
 After a careful study of the whole subject, looking into the 
 details of prison life, and sounding the springs of human na- 
 ture, I have come to the conclusion that the state should have 
 entire control of its unruly and unfortunate children, and put 
 forth an honest effort to reclaim its prodigal sons and daugh 
 ters, and throw out every inducement to make them lead 
 peaceful and honest lives. 
 
 The state does not wish to make money out of the sweat and 
 blood of its unfortunate children, like the monopoly contractor 
 who hoards up wealth at the expense of the poor and friend- 
 less convict, and turns him out to beg or steal at the expira- 
 tion of his term. Why should the state and nation delegate its 
 authority to a few cormorant contractors as against all other 
 citizens ? Monopoly is not consistent with the genius of a 
 republic. 
 
 If each state of this Union will crystallize the following sug- 
 gestive bill into positive law, society will enter upon anew era, 
 and instead of the convict being turned out poor and desperate 
 to prey again upon society, he will retire from his first punish- 
 ment with a good amount of money to his credit, and above 
 all have a practical trade, by which he may gain support by 
 honest labor. The prisoner must know that obedience is his 
 first duty, and the keeper or warden his best friend. The of- 
 ficers must be strict, but perfectly just. 
 
 A BILL for the Labor, Better Care, and Reformation of Prisoners. 
 ^e it enacted, etc. 
 
 SEC. i. The office of General Superintendent of Prisons is 
 hereby created, whose salary shall be five thousand dollars per 
 annum and reasonable traveling expenses. 
 
 SEC. 2. Convict labor by contract is hereby forever abol- 
 ished, and the system shall no longer exist. Hereafter the 
 state shall take active control of the discipline and labor of 
 prisoners. 
 
 SEC. 3. It shall be the duty of the Superintendent of Pris- 
 ons to purchase all raw material, and he shall sell the manu- 
 factured products of prison labor, turning the proceeds thereof 
 into the care of the State Treasurer. 
 
 18 
 
274 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 SEC. 4. The Superintendent shall see that a full and com- 
 plete set of books is kept, giving the detail of every purchase 
 and sale transaction ; and at the end of each fiscal year he 
 shall make a full report to the Executive of the State, who 
 shall transmit the same to the House and Senate with his an- 
 nual message. 
 
 SEC. 5. The Superintendent shall have his office at the Cap- 
 ital, and be empowered to hire such clerks and agents as he 
 needs for the execution of his duties. 
 
 SEC. 6. In all the state prisons of the Commonwealth there 
 shall be taught in detail to every able-bodied prisoner one of 
 the following trades, during his or her term of imprisonment : 
 Shoe-making, tailoring, blacksmithing, stone-cutting, wooden 
 and willow-ware, tinning, saddle and harness-making and box- 
 making of all kinds. 
 
 SEC. 7. With the commitment of each prisoner the clerk of 
 the court shall transmit to the warden a statement of the total 
 expense of arrest and trial of each convict, to be charged against 
 the prisoner on the books of the warden's office. 
 
 SEC. 8. Each convict shall be assigned a separate cell, and 
 from the time he enters prison until he is released shall not be 
 allowed to write or speak to any one without the permission of 
 the officers. 
 
 SEC. 9. There shall be erected in connection with each pris- 
 on a large fire-proof store and warehouse, where the raw and 
 manufactured material shall be placed, until the same is prop- 
 erly distributed and disposed of by the agent of the state. 
 
 SEC. 10. An expert, intelligent tradesman or tradeswoman 
 shall be placed at the head of each of the ten trades mentioned 
 herein, who shall receive eighteen hundred dollars per annum 
 for instructing the convicts in the full details of each trade. 
 
 SEC. 1 1 . The warden shall assign each convict to any of 
 these trades that is best suited to the strength, capacity and in- 
 genuity of the individual. 
 
 SEC. 12. A daily, weekly, monthly and yearly cash account 
 shall be kept with 'each prisoner, who shall first pay from tin- 
 proceeds of his labor the expense of trial, and forty cents a day 
 for his clothing, victuals and housing during his term of im- 
 prisonment. The actual cost to the state of the raw material 
 and its transportation shall also be deducted. All over these 
 amounts arising from the sale and profit of the manufactured 
 goods shall be credited to the prisoner upon the books of the 
 warden and general superintendent of prisoners, and be paid to 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 275 
 
 the convict by the treasurer of the state, on the certification of 
 the warden and superintendent, when the prisoner is released 
 from confinement and punishment. In case of death, the 
 money placed to the credit of the prisoner shall be paid to his 
 legal representative, or to whom he wills it, by the State 
 Treasurer. 
 
 SEC. 13. The superintendent shall not sell the manufactured 
 goods for a price below those of like character in the commer- 
 cial world, and shall be very careful not to unnecessarily com- 
 pete with honest labor. 
 
 SEC. 14. The superintendent shall see to it that from high 
 noon of every Saturday, until seven o'clock the following Mon- 
 day, no work is done in the prison shops. 
 
 SEC. 15. A secular school shall be kept in the prison every 
 Saturday afternoon for the period of four hours, where reading, 
 writing, arithmetic and history shall be taught by teachers, cit- 
 izens or competent prisoners, who shall receive therefor fifteen 
 dollars per month from the state. 
 
 SEC. 1 6. After breakfast each Sunday there shall be held 
 Bible classes, spelling matches and Divine Worship where each 
 prisoner shall attend two hours, unless excused by the doctor 
 or warden. 
 
 SEC. 17. The Board of Inspection, shall furnish at state ex- 
 pense, one thousand or more good books for the prison library, 
 and each convict shall have the privilege to subscribe for one 
 good, daily newspaper, periodical or magazine, to be given to 
 him through the warden's office. 
 
 SEC. 1 8. The superintendent and warden shall see to it that 
 when a convict begins to learn a trade, he shall continue at it 
 until he has mastered all its details, and be competent on his 
 release to work as a journeymen. 
 
 SEC. 19. The only punishment that shall be allowed in the 
 prison for violation of rules, is solitary confinement in a well- 
 lighted cell, with one pound of bread, every other day, at 
 noon, with a quart of water. This fare shall be kept up until 
 the prisoner submits, or until the warden is satisfied with the 
 amount of punishment, under final supervision of the prison 
 physician. 
 
 SEC. 20. The governor, attorney general and treasurer shall 
 constitute a Board of Inspection, and control and make such 
 rules and regulations for the guidance of superintendent, war- 
 den, foreman, guards and prisoners as they may deem wise and 
 prudent in the enforcement of this act, 
 
276 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 SEC. 21. One hundred thousand dollars is hereby appropri- 
 ated, out of any money in the Treasury not otherwise appro- 
 priated, for the beginning and enforcement of the provisions of 
 this act. ^ % 
 
 In the spring and summer of 1876, the alleged whiskey con- 
 spirators of St. Louis were put on trial before Treat and Dil- 
 lon, United States judges. 
 
 The cases of the Supervisor ; William McKee, editor and 
 proprietor of the Globe- Democrat', Con Maguire, Collector of 
 Internal Revenue; William O. Avery, Chief Clerk of the 
 United States Treasury Department, and General O. E. Bab- 
 cock, private and official secretary of President Grant, were the 
 most prominent; the government leaving no otone unturned 
 to convict and imprison these men. 
 
 A number of deputy collectors, gangers, storekeepers, distill- 
 ers and rectifiers, were also indicted, and held over the head^ 
 of the prominent characters as state witnesses. These weak 
 mortals were plastered all over with indictments. 
 
 Subordinates were ready and willing to swear to anything 
 suggested by the district attorney, and as they all had promises 
 of immunity from punishment, they were daily drilled in their 
 role of perjury ! 
 
 It was laughable, if not serious, to see the little human May- 
 flies buzzing against the window-panes of official power, hunt- 
 ing for a hole to crawl out and escape the frosty expectations 
 of tight stone walls. But God had fashioned them in a crook- 
 ed mould, with trembling hearts, and they could not help beg- 
 ging like spaniels before the rod of official tyranny. 
 
 The Supervisor was tried, convicted and sent to state prison. 
 
 Mr. Avery, the Chief Clerk of the Treasury Department, was 
 forced to trial before his lawyers could prepare for his defense. 
 He was convicted, and literally railroaded to prison, an inno- 
 cent man. so far as I knew. It was the most cruel thing com- 
 mitted by Bristow in his raid for the presidency. 
 
 Con. Maguire was forced into pleading guilty on a promise 
 of a light sentence, and as he was a poor man without money, 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 277 
 
 determined to take the seif-convicted course, and get out of 
 trouble as soon as possible. 
 
 William McKee, proprietor of the Globe - Democrat, was a 
 particular object of Bristow's wrath, because the editor did not 
 advocate his presidential expectations. I believed McKee to 
 be a thoroughly honest man, and while he managed his news- 
 paper to make money, he would not stoop to steal or defraud. 
 
 Bristow and his officers now put forth their greatest effort to 
 convict General Babcock, and rummaged every nook and cor- 
 ner of the country for evidence to ruin the President's secreta- 
 ry, and even went so far as to attempt to chip into the outlines 
 of Grant himself. Nothing was too desperate for them to un- 
 dertake in their effort to sully the name of our greatest General, 
 or bring scandal on the White House. 
 
 Detectives, spotters and thieves followed the footsteps of 
 Babcock, his lawyers and friends, wherever they turned, and 
 even the private precincts of home and trunks were searched 
 in the vain effort to find personal letters that might be tortured 
 into evidence of whiskey frauds. 
 
 One of Bristow's hired henchmen followed my wife and 
 baby from Ripon, Wis., to St. Louis and Jefferson City, gaz- 
 ing secretly at a tin box that he imagined contained the desir- 
 ed letters that had passed between Babcock and myself. The 
 nurse frequently carried the box under her shawl, and wherever 
 they went, either herself or my wife clung to the precious arti- 
 cle with unabated vigilance. Dyer and Botsford were sure they 
 were on the right track for the terrible letters that Babcock 
 had written me in furtherance of some wonderful conspiracy ; 
 and these two district attorneys having positive information 
 from the shrewd Washington detective, determined to pounce 
 down on the tin box and trunks. 
 
 In due course Botsford sued out a search-warrant in the 
 name of the United States, and "the balance of mankind;" 
 and while my wife was visiting me, the detective and district 
 attorney dashed fearlessly down on the old nurse, the trunks, 
 the balmorals and the baby, and with heroic valor captured and 
 
278 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 instantly opened the long-sought box, containing a spirit lamp, 
 a can of condensed milk, a sugar-teat and a sucking-bottle ! 
 
 When all else failed Dyer, he stumbled on a fellow named 
 Everest, who had formerly been a third-class clerk in a second- 
 class shoe-shop, and had been made gauger and plastered with 
 indictments for stealing whiskey at the distilleries of Bevis & 
 Frasier and the establishment of Mr. Ulrici. When he was first 
 indicted he ran off to Canada and Europe. Then the services 
 of one McFall, a gauger, who had been indicted and was be- 
 ing coached by Pat Dyer, came into play. John had been in- 
 terested with Dyer when the latter was in Congress, in procur- 
 ing claims ; and, of course, they knew each other as pure and 
 unsullied patriots. McFall proposed to get Everest back, and 
 have him swear to anything in the great and good cause of 
 railroading Babcock into the penitentiary. John and Everest 
 met in New York after the latter came from Rome, where he 
 had been doing pilgrimage at the shrine of St. Peter. When 
 the usual promises of immunity were understood, the gauger 
 was ready to go on the witness stand, and swear to anything 
 that might save himself from prison. 
 
 Everest did take the witness stand, and swore that on a cer- 
 tain day he saw me place a five hundred dollar bill in a large 
 envelope, seal it up and direct it to General Babcock, and mail 
 it at a street-corner postal-box. This was a direct way to bring 
 money to Babcock, and 'convince the jury that he knew of the 
 alleged conspiracy. The cross-examination rather knocked 
 the bottom out of Everest's testimony. 
 
 But, in order that the government should not monopolize 
 all the perjury, Emory Storrs, of Chicago, and Judge Porter, 
 of New York, put up a job to get that five-hundred-dollar en- 
 velope out of the street box. At the Lindell Hotel, where 
 these "Greenleaf " guerillas were wont to congregate, some one 
 suggested that Filley, the postmaster, could fix up one of his 
 carriers to swear that I stood around the letter-box until the 
 carrier came on his collection tour, and took out the letter al- 
 leged to have been mailed. Filley was equal to the emergen- 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 279 
 
 cy. lie had a pliant letter-carrier named Magill, who did not 
 belong to the mail route of my office. It took but a short time 
 for the legal tricksters to coach the carrier, who went on the wit- 
 ness-stand, and swore that I asked him to take out an envelope 
 from a postal-box on Pine street, and that he delivered it to 
 me. 
 
 The cross-examination by Dyer twisted Magill up even worse 
 than Everest had been twisted. Jury, judges and lawyers be- 
 lieved that the carrier had perjured himself. 
 
 I simply say, on my honor as a man, and as I hope for peace 
 beyond the grave, that the testimony of Everest and Magill 
 was an absolute lie, manufactured out of whole cloth, web and 
 woof, by the prosecution and defense in aid of their respective 
 causes. But what cared these people for me or my reputation, 
 so they convicted or acquitted their man over my shoulders. 
 I was laid down over the stream of misfortune like a pontoon 
 bridge in war times, over which infantry, cavalry and artillery 
 passed to victory or defeat. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE SYLPH DISPATCH. 
 
 The case of the government against Babcock was breaking 
 down very fast, but as a last spike the celebrated "Sylph" dis- 
 patch, in Babcock' s hand writing, was introduced as evidence 
 of his guilt. 
 
 The dispatch to the supervisor read as follows : 
 
 Washington, D. C., December ij, 1874. 
 
 I have succeeded. They will not go. I will write you. 
 
 Sylph. 
 
 The goverment attempted to show that this collusive tele- 
 gram was an overt act of Babcock in furtherance of the con- 
 spiracy, advising the St. Louis officers that he had succeeded 
 in preventing detectives from going out to Missouri to make 
 investigation, and that he would write more fully in regard to 
 his action. 
 
 The defense endeavored to show that the dispatch was an in- 
 nocent one, and did not refer to any frauds on the revenue. 
 
 The testimony was finally closed, the lawyers made long- 
 winded speeches, Judge Dillon weighed the evidence, and in- 
 structed the jury that Babcock had not committed any overt 
 act of conspiracy, thus virtually ordering them to acquit. They 
 retired to their rooms, and under the instructions of Dillon 
 had nothing else to do but to bring in a verdict of not guilty. 
 
 Judge Dillon saw the political animus of the prosecution 
 and the weakness of the case, and was the very man to do his 
 duty in defiance of public clamor. The case against Babcock 
 at St. Louis was far stronger than that against me at Jefferson 
 
 281 
 
282 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 City ; but I had a judge who paid more attention to newspa- 
 pers than to evidence or law, and in his anxiety to listen to the 
 howl of the rabble he actually imposed upon me a cumulative 
 sentence that common decency afterwards compelled him to 
 set aside under a writ of habeas corpus. 
 
 During my official career in Missouri and the West, I was 
 personally and politically acquainted with General O. E. Bab- 
 cock, the official and private secretary of President Grant. I 
 met him frequently on my trips to Washington, and when he 
 came to St. Louis we conversed on general political topics. 
 
 General Babcock has been severely blamed for sending to 
 St. Louis the notorious "Sylph" dispatch. In our personal 
 and political communications we made such off-hand signatures 
 as friends frequently use in transmitting private letters and 
 telegrams. 
 
 The origin pf the "Sylph" signature was this : In the sum- 
 mer of 1874, I was in Washington and at the White House. 
 One evening after office hours General Babcock invited me -to 
 take a ride in his carriage. We went over the city, viewing 
 objects of interest, and finally drew up at the granite base of 
 the Scott statue, on i6th street and Massachusetts A. venue. 
 While examining the great stone, which had been brought from 
 the river on rollers, I chanced to look up the street, and saw a 
 very beautiful young lady dressed in fine style, walking erect, 
 light and airy as a dream. In the off-hand manner of my florid 
 style, I called the General's attention to the silken beauty, and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 Her fairy-like form, moulded in beauty and grace, 
 Seems to float like a sylph on the light wings of space. 
 
 The General laughed, coincided with my enthusiastic com- 
 pliment, and thought comparing the beauty to a sylph was very 
 appropriate, joking me a good deal about my admiration for 
 the fair sex. The couplet of poetry took hold of his mind, and 
 I repeated it to him several times as I saw he liked the good 
 and beautiful. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 2 8 3 
 
 In subsequent private letters I often used the word "sylph" 
 in closing my political communications, and he would sign in- 
 cidental notes and telegrams with the same poetic word. 
 
 The "Sylph" telegram came near sending General Babcock 
 to prison, and as neither the courts nor any other sources have 
 ever truthfully explained it, I here give for the first time the 
 actual meaning of the dispatch. 
 
 Parties from Kansas and Illinois had been in Washington for 
 some time trying to oust the collector of Kansas, and super- 
 visor of Illinois. Politically speaking, we were very anxious 
 to retain these officers, because of their power and fealty to the 
 administration. I had written several times to General Bab- 
 cock to assist in keeping the office-seekers out ot the old po- 
 litical districts where we could always count on a Grant dele- 
 gation to a county, state or national convention. Through 
 the General's influence with the political powers at Washington, 
 the office-seeking patriots did "not go," and Babcock "suc- 
 ceed" in keeping old and faithful officers in their places against 
 the conspiring influence of two hungry reformers. 
 
 There never was a more innocent communication, and neither 
 directly nor indirectly did it refer to any frauds on the revenue. 
 It was a simple service performed in the political arena of ad- 
 ministrative business, and just such work as is performed every 
 day in the week by every executive officer in all civilized 
 countries. 
 
 There was no actual woman that either the General or my- 
 self personally knew in the remotest degree representing the 
 "Sylph," save the unknown belle on Massachusetts Avenue, 
 who inspired my poetic exclamation. 
 
 Had I been in a position to place my hands on the letter 
 of which &fac simile is shown on the following page, and pre- 
 sent it at the court, Gen. Babcock would have been acquitted 
 in five minutes ; but at that time I was representing "Uncle 
 Sam" in his "Reform" raid, and could not spare an hour 
 from his classic service. 
 
< 
 
.-/ CHECKERED LIFE. 285 
 
 In all the years that I knew Gen. Babcock, we never inti- 
 mated to each other any scheme or word touching any design 
 to conspire to defraud the government of the United States, 
 and I never paid him a dollar to do for me any political ser- 
 vice; and, so far as I know, no one else ever paid him a cent 
 in furtherance of the alleged whiskey conspiracy. His prose- 
 cution by Bristow was a cruel thing, entailing a certain odium 
 that will last to his grave, and imposing upon himself a cost 
 of forty thousand dollars to show his innocence and keep out 
 of the penitentiary. All this in the interest of Reform ! 
 
 Bristow played his last trump in the Babcock case, and lost. 
 The effort to trace fraud to the White House and saddle it on 
 Grant proved a total failure, and the political conspirators 
 were desperately disappointed. The drama of The Whiskey 
 Conspiracy had been played to full houses, and the audience 
 became restive, many going out between the acts to refresh 
 their anxiety at the failure of unfulfilled promises and great 
 expectations. The curtain was at last rung down to empty 
 benches, the scene-shifters departed, the actors stole away into 
 the lumber of the green-rooms and out into the dark alley of 
 defeat ; the lights burned dim and blue, and all that was left 
 was a score of human beings in prison, and the "property 
 man," who held only a few dilapidated distilleries as the prof- 
 its of the whiskey prosecution. 
 
 Grant at last saw that he had been a victim of Bristow' s 
 perfidy, and with that defiant boldness which never failed him 
 in the hour of need, he began to kick out of his administra- 
 tion a lot of impudent frauds who had brought scandal, but no 
 taxes, to the government. 
 
 District Att'y Dyer was dismissed; Detective Yaryan was 
 bounced ; Commissioner Pratt went to short grass : Solicitor 
 Bluford Wilson was sent back to the Sucker State, and Bristow 
 himself was kicked out unceremoniously after his failure to get 
 the nomination for President, at Cincinnati. 
 
 The prosecution of the so-called whiskey conspirators, from 
 the beginning to the end, cost the government one million 
 
286 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 dollars ; and in the loss of taxes from idle distilleries and 
 whiskey houses, it suffered a loss of two million more making 
 in all a three-million-dollar robbery from ihe vaults of the 
 treasury by a set of official conspirators who acted, not for the 
 enforcement of the law, but to promote their own personal 
 and political ambition. 
 
 After eight years, where are the men who made such loud 
 boasts in the whiskey prosecutions ? Many of their victims 
 died of poverty and broken hearts by the wayside, while they 
 are only mentioned as conspirators against an administration 
 that had warmed them into life and power. The chief objects 
 of Bristow's wrath were Joyce, Babcock and Grant. I have 
 lived for the past five years, proud, prosperous and patient, 
 on a hill-top overlooking Washington City and the historic 
 waters of the Potomac respected by all who know me inti- 
 mately ; and for the opinion of the rabble I care no more than 
 for a whiff of idle wind, because their blame or censure is of 
 no consequence to a man they know not. 
 
 Gen. Babcock holds a life place in the engineer corps of the 
 United States army, respected and loved by every one whose 
 opinion is worth consulting. 
 
 Gen. Grant's little finger to-day is more potent with the 
 present administration and the nation than all the howling 
 reformers in America ; and when their work and memory are 
 lost, and they rest in forgotten graves, he will be remembered, 
 and his form will be chiseled in monumental glory as long as 
 liberty and valor find a home in our Great Republic. 
 
 Bristow, late Secretary of the Treasury, moves about New 
 York City with the mark of the deceiver on his brow, and 
 wherever his name is mentioned, his betrayal of Grant rises 
 like Ban quo 's ghost. 
 
 ' Thus the whirligig of time brings in its revenge." 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 PARDON AND OTHER MATTERS. 
 
 Days, weeks and months wore away the year 1876, and 
 wheeled in the New Year with its hopes and fears. President 
 Grant had pardoned, in detail, all the victims of Bristow's 
 personal ambition, and although I was the first in the United 
 States to feel the wrath of the government, I remained the 
 last one to suffer. Every self-convicted thief in Wisconsin, 
 Illinois, Indiana and Missouri was released from punishment 
 by the courts, or by a pardon from the President, while I, who 
 persistently asserted my innocence, was permitted to languish 
 alone, even against the loud protests of public opinion. 
 
 In the spring of 1877, numerous letters of sympathy began 
 to pour in upon me, and even the newspapers and officers that 
 hounded me into prison pronounced my continued incarcera- 
 tion an outrage on the principles of equal justice. 
 
 Wm. J. Florence, the well-known actor, an old-time friend, 
 said : "I suppose you will soon be a free man again. Among 
 the many friends you have to sympathize with you, none are 
 more sincere than Florence. Keep the few hairs of poor Old 
 Abe Lincoln I gave you, and prize them as souvenirs of all 
 that was truly good and noble in man." 
 
 Judge John M. Krum, a lawyer and prominent citizen of 
 more than forty years' standing in St. Louis, said : " And first, 
 I wish to say that, although you are at present under a cloud, 
 it has not obscured you in the least from my recollection, or 
 lessened you in any respect from my regard or estimation. 
 ' What though the field be lost, all is not lost.' To-day the 
 
 287 
 
288 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 storm rages fiercely, but to-morrow comes a peaceful day, and 
 the storm has wasted its power. And so, my friend, a peaceful 
 day will soon come to you. Be of good cheer. Your friends, 
 as of yore, stand by you, and will to the death." 
 
 Ex-Senator John B. Henderson, who was employed as the 
 special Attorney General to aid Pat. Dyer in the prosecution 
 of the St. Louis whiskey cases, wrote several kind and friendly 
 letters, from which I make the following extracts : 
 
 11 1 have understood that every one is out of prison except 
 yourself, and that those who had not been tried, and who are 
 unquestionably guilty, have been pardoned before conviction. 
 I cannot appreciate the reasons for your further incarceration. 
 There were various rumors here in regard to the matter, one 
 of which is to the effect that certain parties demanded five 
 thousand dollars from you as a condition of relief, and you, re- 
 fusing to give it, was informed that you could not be pardoned. 
 I can recommend your pardon on the ground that you de- 
 serve pardon equally as well as those who have been pardoned. 
 
 Gen. Henderson says, in a letter to Att'y General Devens 
 touching my pardon : " I do not hesitate to place his case as 
 one demanding only equal favor and consideration with others. 
 He is no worse than many others unconditionally pardoned ; 
 and when I say no worse, I put the case in the mildest form 
 of expression. I think he is a better man than many who have 
 received executive clemency in the several districts." 
 
 The following exceedingly strong pardon papers were pre- 
 sented to the Att'y General, embracing a letter of recommend- 
 ation from Judge Krekel, petitions from the Senate and House 
 of the Missouri legislature, and the rare recommendation of 
 the Supreme Court of the state ; also the favorable recom- 
 mendation of five of the jurymen who convicted me on the 
 23d of October, 1875, an( ^ sa *d m tne i r paper only two days 
 afterward, that " It does not appear from the proof that Col. 
 "Joyce ever received a dollar in fraud of the revenue laws." 
 
 District Attorney Botsford also strongly recommended my 
 pardon, as did others whose letters I omit. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 289 
 
 Jefferson City, Mo., March 21, 1877. 
 To the PRESIDENT : 
 
 John A. Joyce, now confined in the Missouri State Peni- 
 tentiary, under sentence for violating his official duty as Rev- 
 enue Agent, is petitioning to be pardoned, and has asked me 
 to favor his application. Heretofore I have refused to join 
 in his, as in every other, application for pardon in the so-called 
 whiskey-ring cases, for two reasons mainly, that I did not deem 
 it best that the administration under which the violations oc- 
 curred should pardon the offender, and again because I desired 
 to see adequate punishment inflicted on those who had violated 
 not only the law, but their high trust. 
 
 The punishments imposed by other judges in similar cases 
 
 tried afterwards were lighter than my own in the Joyce case. 
 
 His conduct while confined has been reported to me as good. 
 
 Considering all the circumstances, I recommend his pardon. 
 
 Respectfully, A. KREKEL. 
 
 His Excellency, RUTHERFORD B. HAYES, 
 President of the United States. 
 
 We, the undersigned, Senators of the 2Qth General Assem- 
 bly, would respectfully submit to your earnest consideration 
 that John A. Joyce, of the city of St. Louis, is at the present 
 time, and has been for the past sixteen months, an inmate of 
 the state prison of Missouri, for alleged complicity in the late 
 whiskey conspiracy ; that all the participants in said conspiracy 
 in Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and Missouri have been relieved 
 either by the Courts, or by a pardon from ex-President Grant ; 
 that Colonel Joyce was the first tried in the United States, 
 and has suffered longer imprisonment than any one else, he 
 being the only one still incarcerated ; that his application for 
 pardon has laid for months in the Att'y General's office favora- 
 bly recommended by the District Attorney who tried him; that 
 he has a wife and two children depending on him for support, 
 this being the first offence alleged against the aforesaid prisoner, 
 he having led in the past an honorable life ; that as an Amer- 
 can citizen, he is entitled to the same treatment accorded oth- 
 ers for like offenses, and unless actuated by a desire for per- 
 sonal vengeance, a just Government cannot discriminate against 
 Joyce, who still asserts his innocence.. 
 
 It is therefore the opinion of your petitioners that the prin- 
 ciples of even-handed justice, presuming that a wrong had been 
 committed, is now satisfied; and that every consideration of 
 
 19 
 
2 9 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 truth, charity, and mercy demands the immediate release of the 
 prisoner; and that he may be restored to his suffering family, 
 your petitioners humbly pray. 
 
 Henry C. Brokmeyer, Daniel Able, 
 
 Lieut. Governor. Sec'y Mo. Senate. 
 
 Jno. H. Terry. Wm. Q. Paxton. 
 
 E. A. Seay. ' R. Ake. 
 
 Waller Young. M. H. Phalan. 
 
 A. H. Benkeholder James R. Claiborne. 
 
 T. H. Parrish. Lee Wight. 
 
 I. S. Parsons. T. J. O. Morrison. 
 
 George K. Biggs, John G. Wear. 
 
 W. W. Mosby. Robt. G. Coleman. 
 
 E. M. Edwards. R. S. Lukenson. 
 S. S, Henry. R. P. Wilson. 
 
 G. T. Ballingal. W. B. Thompson. 
 
 A petition similarly worded was signed by members of the 
 House of Representatives, as follows : 
 
 John I. Martin. Wm. Goff. 
 
 S. M. Pickler. E. P. Johnson. 
 
 Geo. M. Sutherland. E. A. Donelan. 
 
 Chas. A. Pollock. Theophilus Williams. 
 
 Robert A. Cameron. Jared E. Smith. 
 
 D. H. Connaway. D. Procten. 
 
 L. A. Lambert. Wm. Gardner. 
 
 S. W. Headen. Jas Southard. 
 
 J. D. Horn. T. E. Evans. 
 
 Geo. W. Rinker. J. B. Brower. 
 
 R. A. Campbell. J. Casey Woodside. 
 
 Joseph A. Dacus. De L. Miller. 
 
 Sam. Byrns. E. L. Newsum. 
 
 Geo. W. Easley. Stephen P. Turn. 
 
 Ashley W. Ewing. H. C. Todd. 
 
 John J. O'Neill. W. M. Moore. 
 
 M. D. Blakey. W. C. Wells. 
 
 Jacob A. Love. Abram Dobbs. 
 
 Geo. R. King. P. C. Stipp. 
 
 G. B. Atterbury. W. H. H. Russell. 
 
 W. A. Love. E. Buler. 
 
 F. M. Coleman. Jasper N. Burks. 
 Charles L. Ewing. William Harrison. 
 John Ryan. D. C. Gannawoy. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 291 
 
 G. N. Nolan. L. J. Dryden. 
 
 T. A. Dryden. J. L. Farris. 
 
 H. J. Deal. W. R. Wilhite. 
 
 L. F. Medley. R. W. Jameson. 
 
 Peyton G. Hurt. J. S. Richardson. 
 
 W. E. Brown. John H. McHenry. 
 
 STATE OF MISSOURI s. s. 
 
 I, Michael K. McGrath, Secretary of State, of the State of 
 Missouri, hereby certify that the persons whose names are sub- 
 scribed to the foregoing petitions are members of the Senate 
 and House of Representatives of the General Assembly of the 
 State of Missouri. In Testimony Whereof, I have hereunto 
 set my hand and affixed my seal of office. Done at office, in 
 r ' , -v the city of Jefferson, this twenty - eighth day of 
 j Seal. ! March, A. D. Eighteen Hundred and Seventy- 
 ' <* ' Seven. MICHAEL K. MCGRATH, 
 
 Secretary of State. 
 
 To His Excellency, RUTHERFORD B. HAYES, 
 
 President of the United States. 
 
 The undersigned, members of the Supreme Court of the 
 State of Missouri, respectfully recommend the pardon of John 
 A. Joyce, in consideration of equal justice. 
 
 Jno. W. Henry, 
 E. H. Norton, 
 T. A. Sherwood, 
 J. W. B. Napton. 
 
 To His Excellency, U. S. GRANT, 
 
 President of the United States, 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 The undersigned, members of the jury who tried the case 
 of the United States vs. John A. Joyce, in the District Court 
 of the United States for the Western District of Missouri, 
 state that the verdict of guilty on the several counts in the 
 indictment was based upon our belief that the defendant had 
 knowledge and information of fraud and did not report the 
 same to his superior officers. 
 
 It did not appear from the proof that Col. Joyce ever received 
 a dollar in fraud of the revenue laws, and in consideration of 
 
2 9 2 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 this fact, coupled with his past good conduct, we would most 
 respectfully recommend him to Executive clemency. 
 
 James Cook, 
 
 October 25th, 1875. Robt. N. Leith, 
 
 G. W. Oakes, 
 Ephraim Johnson, 
 J. L. Fullilove. 
 
 The 4th of March, 1877, came and went, and notwithstand- 
 ing the personal and official recommendations I brought to 
 bear, President Grant went out of office without giving me the 
 clemency he extended to self-convicted thieves. 
 
 I have since learned, from the best authority, that my official 
 papers were held back by Alphonzo Taft, Attorney General, 
 and were never presented to the President. I will also state 
 that a trio of licentious Washington blackmailers did attempt to 
 make me pay five thousand dollars for a pardon. I leave Taft 
 and a just government to explain the cruel exception made in 
 my case. 
 
 For five months after every one else was out of prison, I was 
 held for no earthly reason imaginable except to satisfy some 
 personal vengeance of the pardon brokers, who could net in- 
 timidate, control or blackmail me. 
 
 Time with its ceaseless tread brought around July, 1877, and 
 as my attorney and self felt that Judge Krekel had committed 
 a great wrong in giving me four separate punishments on one 
 indictment, determined to apply for a writ of habeas corpus 
 before the same man who imposed a cumulative sentence. Ac- 
 cordingly ex-Governor Thomas C. Fletcher, my attorney, sued 
 out the proper writ, and brought me before Krekel, who made 
 some preliminary remarks, and temporarily released me until 
 he could consider all the legal points involved. 
 
 For several weeks I remained at the Madison House in a 
 state of suspended animation, waiting for the decision of the 
 judge. 
 
 Finally, after corresponding with Judge John F. Dillon, of 
 the Circuit Court, and scanning the daily papers with the eye 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 293 
 
 of a politician, Arnold Krekel "went back" on himself in the 
 following language : 
 
 "Ex parte John A. Joyce : 
 
 Petitioner is before me on a writ of habeas corpus, seeking 
 to be discharged from imprisonment on judgment of this court 
 in one of the whiskey cases. This indictment under which the 
 conviction is had is drawn under the fourth and ninth subdivis- 
 ions of section 3169 of the Revised Statutes of the United 
 States. The pleader saw cause to reverse the order of the stat- 
 ute, and in the three first counts of the indictment, under the 
 ninth subdivision of the section cited, charges that defendant 
 Joyce had knowledge of Feineman and of Sheehan violating 
 the revenue law, and failing to report such knowledge as re- 
 quired. The fourth count charges that Joyce conspired and 
 colluded with Sheehan to defraud the United States, an oftense 
 under the fourth subdivision of the section cited. On trial the 
 defendant was found guilty on each count in the indictment, 
 and after filing a motion for a new trial, he withdrew the same 
 before hearing, and demanded judgment, which was entered, 
 and is in the following form : 'That the said John A. Joyce, 
 defendant, be imprisoned and confined for the term of two 
 years in the Missouri Penitentiary under the fourth count of the 
 indictment, the first term to commence on this i3th day of 
 November, 1875, an d that under such count he pay a fine of 
 $1,000, and he be further imprisoned and confined in such 
 penitentiary for the term of eighteen months under the first, 
 second and third counts of the indictment, and that under such 
 counts he pay a fine of $1,000, the second term of eighteen 
 months to commence on the expiration of the first term of two 
 years, and said two terms to constitute a continuous imprison- 
 ment of three years and six months. ' 
 
 Joyce in his petition for the writ of habeas corpus claims 
 that the four counts of the indictment charge but one offense, 
 and that when the court entered judgment on one count it ex- 
 hausted its power, and that Joyce having served his sentence 
 
294 
 
 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 of two years, after allowing due credit for good behavior, he i 
 entitled to a discharge, thus virtually claiming that the con- 
 spiring and colluding to defraud the United States under the 
 fourth division of section 3169, and under the ninth division, 
 the having knowledge of the commission of offenses against the 
 revenue law, and failing to report, are one and the same of- 
 fense. There is no doubt that two offenses the conspiring 
 and colluding to defraud, and the having knowledge of the 
 violation of the revenue law without reporting, may be com- 
 mitted, for they have no necessary connection ; at least, a 
 knowledge of the violation of the revenue law by others may 
 be had without the person having such knowledge being in col- 
 lusion to defraud. The various counts of the indictment under 
 consideration so charge the offenses as to connect them with 
 the conspiracy to defraud entered into between Joyce, the rev- 
 enue agent, and Sheehan, the distiller. 
 
 . Joyce, the revenue agent, ought to have known that others 
 besides the distiller must violate the revenue law in order to 
 carry out the design of the conspiracy to defraud, for without, 
 such violation it could not have been carried out and made ef- 
 fective. Feineman, the rectifier, was made the willing instru- 
 ment in the conspiracy; the ganger and warehouse-keeper 
 became the paid tools. 
 
 The evidence on the trial was all directed to the establish- 
 ing of the conspiracy to defraud, for while the prosecution 
 might have fallen short of a conviction in this particular, it 
 could still have succeeded in showing that Joyce knew of vio- 
 lations of the revenue law without having reported them. 
 
 The proper judgment upon the verdict rendered was for this 
 conspiracy count. The present inquiry is, Did the court ex- 
 ceed its power in rendering the judgment it did ? There is 
 no doubt upon my mind that the judgment of the court 
 should have been but for one offense, and had the motion for 
 a new trial not been withdrawn, but considered, it is probable 
 that on consideration the conclusion now reached would then 
 have been arrived at. This happened to be the first of the 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 295 
 
 long line of whiskey fraud cases, afterwards tried here and in 
 other courts, and well do I remember my deep anxiety to 
 bring offenders to justice on the one side, and not to be unjust 
 to the defendants upon whom outraged public opinion was 
 about to descend. The question of law, it must be admited, is 
 a grave one, as to how far the court under habeas corpus pro- 
 ceedings can review its former judgment ; for it amounts to 
 nothing less than this. Upon the point of pronouncing on the 
 judgment only, upon the various counts of the indictments, I 
 have the full support of decisions rendered in the Tweed case. 
 Upon the extent of the power of a court to review its former 
 judgment in order to see whether it had power to pass the judg- 
 ment it did, the Supreme Court of the United States, in Ex 
 parte Large, i8th Wallace, has passed. But above all I feel re- 
 lieved, because the judgment about to be entered can be re- 
 viewed, and the various questions involved authoritatively set- 
 tled on appeal. The conclusions arrived at are that the indict- 
 ment under consideration in its various counts charges but one 
 offense ; that when the court entered its judgment on the conspir- 
 acy count it exhausted its power, and that the rest of the judg- 
 ment is void ; that Joyce, having served the full term of his 
 sentence of two years, after allowing due credit for good be- 
 havior, is entitled to a discharge, which is granted him." 
 
 After my release, the United States District Attorney took 
 an appeal to the Circuit Court, holding over me a tacit threat 
 and weighing me down with the lingering chains of modern 
 political, policy law. 
 
 I was still, like Mahomet's coffin, suspended between earth 
 and sky, and felt that 
 
 The young and the old 
 
 This truth may unfold, 
 That things cannot always go right. 
 
 Sometimes you'll be sure 
 
 Your friend is as pure 
 As streaks of the sun's brightest light. 
 
296 A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 But as clouds may arise, 
 To darken the skies, 
 
 And the bright light of noon may grow dimmer, 
 In the first flush of youth, 
 You may learn this sad truth : 
 "There's a great many holes in a skimmer !" 
 
 In order to knock the whole bottom out of the Government 
 "skimmer," I concluded that a full and unconditional pardon 
 would be the best thing to foil the blackmailers and pardon- 
 brokers, and immediately went to work to obtain presidential 
 clemency. 
 
 On my way to Washington, in August, I stopped for a day at 
 the Palmer House, in Chicago, and was interviewed by repre- 
 sentatives of the Times and Tribune, whom I had known in the 
 days of my political power. They spoke of me in the most 
 charming and complimentary manner, and even the editorial 
 comments were flattering. 
 
 Col. Jack Hinman, of the Times, one of the best newspaper 
 men in the United States, interviewed me for his journal, and 
 afterwards introduced me to Mr. Storey, the sage proprietor, 
 who treated me with kindness, and talked upon the philosophy 
 of the whiskey prosecution, saying that it was all "gjeat cry and 
 no wool !" I also talked with the late Sam. Medill, of the Tri- 
 bune, a gentleman of fine intellect and sterling integrity. 
 
 When I reached Washington, and retired to my home on the 
 heights of Georgetown, the National Republican sent a very 
 intelligent young man to interview me on the general policy 
 of the whiskey prosecution. Speaking of my home and self, 
 the reporter said : 
 
 " The walls were covered with paintings, but the most strik- 
 ing picture was one in the centre of the room a full-length, 
 well-executed crayon portrait of a handsome man with dark 
 hair and a moustache, flashing eyes, and of rather spare figure, 
 though finely formed. It was a portrait of Joyce before he 
 entered prison. He soon came down stairs in his shirt-sleeves. 
 
A CHECKERED LIFE. 297 
 
 It was the same face that could be seen in the picture, but the 
 thick hair had turned prematurely gray. The eyes still spark- 
 led. The figure was fuller. Before Joyce's imprisonment he 
 weighed 150 pounds, now he weighs 175. Evidently he did 
 not worry much over his bad luck. Col. Joyce has all the ap- 
 pearance of an educated Irishman. His features are regular 
 and handsome. His head is shaped well, and his forehead, 
 encircled by iron-gray locks, is high and intellectual. He has 
 a sort of half-military air, which is more noticeable when he 
 wears his hat a black felt of the military pattern. Though 
 no one would detect the least "brogue" when he talks, his 
 voice is Irish in its richness and fulness. Like an educated 
 Irishman, he is a ready and voluble talker, and forms good 
 round sentences as fast as his tongue can trip through them." 
 
 On the morning of the i8th of December, 1877, I was in- 
 troduced to President R. B. Hayes by Senator William B. 
 Allison, in order that I might make a statement touching the 
 justice of granting me a pardon. Other good friends, like Hon. 
 W. W. Curtis, of Georgetown, interceded in my behalf, and 
 gave testimony to my general character for truth, faith and 
 honesty. My interview with the President lasted about half 
 an hour, when I rounded off my argument with the remark that 
 if I could not be granted a full and unconditional pardon on 
 the simple ground of equal and exact justice, I did not want it. 
 
 My enthusiastic statements brought smiles and interest to the 
 President, and as an evidence of his earnestness I found lately 
 that he wrote, that very day, the following letter to his Attor- 
 ney General : 
 
 Executive Mansion, Washington, D. C., ) 
 
 DEAR GENERAL: December i8th, 1877. } 
 
 I understand that John A. Joyce has served out his time, 
 
 and that application is now made to relieve him from the legal 
 
 disabilities consequent upon his conviction. 
 
 If the grounds as presented are sufficient to warrant that 
 
 action, I shall be glad to have it done. 
 
 I will call in the morning, and talk with you about it. 
 
 GEN. DEVENS, Very truly? R. B. HAYES. 
 
 Attorney General. 
 
EXECUTIVE MANSION 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
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A CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 299 
 
 It is very seldom that the President of the United States takes 
 such personal interest in matters of pardon. But Mr. Hayes felt 
 and knew that I had been the victim of an unholy vengeance, 
 run off into the forest of misfortune as a scape-goat for the 
 sins of the Jubilee conclave a first-class vicarious sacrifice. 
 The next day after my interview with the President, I called 
 at the State Department, and Mr.Sevellon Brown, the gentle- 
 manly and intelligent chief clerk, handed me a full and uncon- 
 ditional pardon. Thus, after a fight of more than two years 
 with the United States Government, it bluntly stultified its 
 own action by a successful writ of habeas corpus and pardon, 
 restoring me to every right I possessed before Bristow's Presi- 
 dential bee began to buzz in his bonnet. 
 
 What a commentary on human justice ! What a burlesque, 
 trial by jury ! What a model, the Judge who imposes sentence 
 on the rise and fall of public opinon ! The punishment for 
 conspiracy should be sharp, short and decisive. The small and 
 the great should be dealt with according to their responsibility, 
 and no special privileges should be granted to any one. 
 
 Pardon should be granted to the innocent, but to others only 
 under extraordinary circumstances ; yet, sad to say, there is no 
 privilege this side of the grave that cannot be purchased by 
 money and political influence. 
 
 The duplicate cases standing against me in St. Louis were 
 so weak that Wm. H. Bliss, Dristrict Attorney, did not wish to 
 try them. The perjured witnesses that had been used in the 
 hot days of 1876 had not the inducement to lie, since the ter- 
 rors of imprisonment were passed. My attoney, ex-Governor 
 Fletcher, called up the cases and they passed off on a plea in 
 bar and demurrer, by the rulings of Judge Treat, judgment be- 
 ing entered in my behalf. Thus the last shot in the blunder- 
 buss of Bristow was exhausted, and the great reform boom that 
 went up like a rocket came down like the stick. 
 
 The celebrated apostrophe of Madam Roland to the statue 
 of Liberty, on her way to the scaffold, might well have this 
 modern rendition: "Oh! Reform, Reform, how many crimes 
 are committed in thy name ! " 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 The reader who has followed me over the mountains, valleys 
 and streams of this "checkered life" deserves commendation 
 and thanks ; and while he or she may have thought that some 
 things were said and done that might have been avoided, yet 
 in the usual course of human affairs it was natural to do and 
 act just as the brain and heart dictated. 
 
 I am candid to acknowledg that I have had sins of omission 
 and commission. Who has not ? I have warmed friends to 
 my generous bosom, and have been betrayed. Who has not ? 
 I have seen the man and woman I supported walk on the other 
 side of the street, fearing to look at the man who had saved 
 them. Who has not ? I have seen human lizards sun them- 
 selves on the flowery banks of prosperity, and fly under the 
 stones at the first thunder-clap of adversity. Who has not ? 
 I have seen the bad and corrupt go down to the grave of re- 
 spectability, while the impulsive, good, and true received the 
 shocks of misfortune, and died in disgrace and poverty. Who 
 has not ? I have seen many varied peculiarities of life, but I 
 never yet saw a man finally forsaken who had the self-reliant 
 power to stand by himself and defy the onslaught of a rabble 
 world. 
 
 For the little May-flies of fashionable opinion I care no 
 more than for the idle wind that wanders o'er the lea ; but for 
 those true hearts that can separate the false from the true, and 
 distinguish right from wrong, my most sincere respect is en- 
 listed. Let us all live and act for the honest opinion of those 
 who know us best, and leave the rest to God. 
 
 300 
 
\ 
 
 ONLY WORDS LAST FOREVER:' 
 
 pOETIC 
 
 W AIFS - 
 
 JOHN A. JOYCE. 
 
 3 01 
 
For still the craft of 
 
 genitts is 
 To mask a king in 
 
 weeds." 
 
 'Ctirst be the verse, 
 how zuell soever itflou 
 That tends to make on 
 honest man my Joe. r 
 
 302 
 
KISS WHILE YOU CAN. 
 
 KISS while you can; wait not for to-morrow; 
 The form that you love may wither in sorrow : 
 The lips that you press in passion to-day 
 May fade in a moment, and vanish away. 
 
 The dark raven locks that glisten to-day 
 Soon are supplanted by silvery gray ; 
 The fire in the eye and bloom on the cheek 
 Will vanish in air, then others we seek. 
 
 Cherish the heart, and the brave, hoary head 
 True in old age as when first they wed ; 
 Lavish sweet love on each other to-day; 
 Remember, my darling, we're passing away. 
 
 Time, in his flight, will not stop to debate ; 
 Richest inducements will not make him wait ; 
 Then while he is here, let's brighten his hours, 
 And sparkle and shine like dew on the flowers. 
 
 Sigh not and brood not o'er gems that are lost ; 
 Year after year buds are killed by the frost ; 
 Tears will not bring back the lips that are fled 
 The kisses we gave are gone to the dead. 
 303 
 
POETIC WAIFS 
 
 O 
 
 KATIE AND I. 
 
 \7 ATIE and I sat singing, singing, 
 JA. As the moon went down ; 
 While bells were loudly ringing, ringing, 
 In the far-off town. 
 
 Katie and I sat thinking, thinking, 
 
 Of the long ago ; 
 Sweet baby fingers lightly linking 
 
 Memories under snow. 
 
 Katie and I soon sleeping, sleeping, 
 
 'Neath the silent sod; 
 Our spirits fondly greeting, greeting 
 
 Children, rest and God. 
 
 MY BABY'S EYES. 
 
 MY baby's eyes, in melting blue, 
 Are beaming bright as morning dew 
 And from the sky light take a hue, 
 Or like the starlight, clear and true. 
 
 My baby's eyes, in liquid roll, 
 Enhance my world from pole to pole, 
 And love sits smiling in that goal, 
 Forever speaking to my soul. 
 
 My baby's eyes, in other years, 
 May fill with many scalding tears ; 
 And yet, through cruel taunts and jeers 
 A mother's love will banish fears. 
 
 My baby's eyes, in blight or bloom, 
 Those glorious orbs, in grief or gloom, 
 Shall be to me, in dearth or doom, 
 The dearest diamonds, to the tomb. 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 
 TWENTY YEARS. 
 
 A MEMORY OF MT. STERLING, KY. 
 
 'PWENTY years are gone to-morrow 
 1 Since these streams and hills I knew ; 
 Twenty years of joy and sorrow 
 Brings me back, dear hills, to you. 
 
 Many friends I loved are sleeping 
 
 On the crest of yonder hill ; 
 'Neath the willows gently weeping, 
 
 Near the sound of Perry's mill. 
 
 Beaux and beauties that I cherished 
 
 Left me in their early bloom, 
 Yet their memory never perished 
 
 With the blight that blurs the tomb. 
 
 Raven locks no more are shining ; 
 
 Lost and gone the flowers of May; 
 Yet how vain is all repining 
 
 In my crown of silver gray. 
 
 Vanished voices in the twilight 
 Float above the hill and plain ; 
 
 Call me fondly to the skylight, 
 Thrill my heart with love again. 
 
 DREAMING. 
 
 DREAMING, dreaming, only seeming 
 That I loved you long ago ; 
 Weeping, weeping, fondly keeping 
 Secrets from both friend and foe. 
 
 Thinking, thinking, lightly linking 
 
 All the hopes that filled the past; 
 Peering, fearing, gently nearing 
 
 To our promised joys at last. 
 
 20 
 
 35 
 
3 o6 POETIC WAIFS, 
 
 THE SUNBEAM. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL beam came into my cell, 
 1\ Fresh from the eye of Jehovah, to tell 
 That bolts and bars cannot keep out the light 
 Of truth and justice, of mercy and right. 
 It checkered the flags through the iron door, 
 And danced in the shadows that kissed the floor, 
 And loitered about in a friendly way, 
 Until beckoned home at the close of day ; 
 When out from the window it flew on high, 
 And hastened back to its home in the sky. 
 I followed the beautiful beam, at rest, 
 To a sea of light in the golden west ; 
 It dropped to sleep on the dark blue sea, 
 And left me the sweetest memory. 
 I turned to my soul for calm relief, 
 Balm to my wound, a check to my grief 
 When visions of glory shone from above, 
 Where the light is God, and God is love. 
 
 A TOAST. 
 
 HERE'S to the girl of gladness and beauty, 
 Who's always alive to hope, love or duty ; 
 Who fills up the cup and empties the bowl 
 To the choice of her heart, the pride of her soul. 
 Who's merry and happy with love, song and 
 
 dance, 
 
 Pleased with the pleasure of life in a trance 
 Sunshine and flowers make up her romance. 
 
 Here's a toast to the lass so kind, true and free, 
 Who quaffs off a cup to memory and me, 
 And wafts o'er the billow her sighs of regret 
 For hours that are gone and suns that are set. 
 One changeless as fate, who loves to the close 
 Her wandering hero, through strife and repose, 
 Fresh in her beauty as dew on the rose. 
 
POETIC WAIFS 307 
 
 GOD IS NEAR. 
 
 GOD is near upon the ocean, 
 God is near upon the land ; 
 He is All, both rest and motion 
 
 We are only grains of sand. 
 Little mites upon life's billow, 
 
 May-flies buzzing out the hour, 
 Dreams upon a fevered pillow, 
 
 Dew-drops on a withered flower. 
 Only waiting for to-morrow, 
 
 That has never come to man, 
 Here we live, in joy and sorrow, 
 
 Chasing phantoms as we can. 
 Chasing pleasure, chasing greatness, 
 
 Over tangled walks and waves, 
 But we learn the bitter lateness 
 
 Just before we find our graves. 
 Hope is nigh, with fairy fingers, 
 
 Tracing sunbeams on the way ; 
 Magic memory ever lingers, 
 
 Busy with the by-gone day. 
 Life and death are but the portals 
 
 To a realm of endless rest ; 
 God is working through his mortals ; 
 
 All in some way shall be blessed. 
 
 FORGETTING. 
 
 r PHE friends that I loved in December, 
 1 And cherished so fondly in May, 
 Have long since forgot to remember, 
 
 And vanished like dew-drops away. 
 I n sunshine and power I was toasted 
 
 And feasted by courtiers so kind ; 
 And, oh ! how the parasites boasted 
 
 Of the wonderful traits of my mind ! 
 But when the dark hour of my trouble 
 
 Arose like a storm in the sky, 
 The vipers began to play double, 
 
 And forgot the bright glance of my eye. 
 
308 
 
 POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 WAITING. 
 
 HOW well I remember, darling, 
 In the beautiful long ago, 
 When we pledged our love with kisses, 
 Down by the brooklet's flow, 
 Where the shadows come and go. 
 
 Now I am broken-hearted ; 
 
 The light of my soul hath fled ; 
 
 A weary pilgrim, waiting 
 
 To join the ranks of the dead, 
 And lay down my weary head. 
 
 Alone in the moonlight, watching 
 At her grave, I lay me low, 
 
 While the winds go whistling by me, 
 And my darling under the snow. 
 Buried forever, joy with woe. 
 
 MATTIEVAN. 
 
 I'M dreaming of my darling, night and clay; 
 My life with her is one sweet, perfect plan ; 
 Her bright eyes, like the sunshine of the May, 
 Sparkle love, and whisper : " Mattievan." 
 
 Her voice comes in the midnight lone, 
 And lingers at my pillow, but to scan 
 
 A heart that beats for one sweet girl my own, 
 My darling little sweetheart Mattievan. 
 
 Just see her in the waltz, so light and free ! 
 
 A jewel on the breast of any man. 
 She may flirt with all the world but me 
 
 My own dear, little sweetheart Mattievan. 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 309 
 
 MAZY. 
 
 SHE sleeps on the hill, near the crumbling mill, 
 And my mind is nearly crazy 
 When I note the hours and the faded flowers 
 Gone with the sun and the daisy. 
 
 Through the orchard, wild as a loving child, 
 
 She sported long in the clover, 
 And the blossoms free, from the apple tree, 
 
 She heaped on her pet dog, Rover. 
 
 The bees she chased, in her laughing haste, 
 
 In the fields and nooks so sunny; 
 With roses red she decked her head, 
 
 And life was sweet as honey. 
 
 How cruel years, with hopes and fears, 
 Have furrowed my heart and features ! 
 
 With autumn's blow and winter's snow 
 Comes trouble to earthly creatures. 
 
 A few more years, and a few more tears, 
 
 Will waft me away to Mazy, 
 And I shall sleep where the willows weep, 
 
 On the hill, by the mill, 'neath the daisy. 
 
 THE FIRST KISS. 
 
 IN the month of November, the day I remember, 
 Now gazing o'er mountain and plain, 
 My heart travels back to that flowery track, 
 And lives in the light of her eyes once again. 
 
 How glorious and bright were the stars of the night 
 With the whip-poor-will tuning his song, 
 
 When our hearts were so true, and I lov'd only you 
 In that multitude rushing along. 
 
3io 
 
 POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 The day never comes, and the night never goes, 
 But I sigh for the woodland and stream 
 
 Where we sat in the moonlight, living in love 
 In that bright, sunny land, like a dream. 
 
 Many years have gone by, still I sadden and sigh 
 For the musical strains of the past ; 
 
 My heart fondly turns to incense, and burns 
 On the altar of love to the last. 
 
 One by one we step out to that land full of doubt, 
 
 Where hope only leads up the way 
 To a realm of bliss, where an angelic kiss 
 
 Bids us welcome to eternal day. 
 
 The lips of an angel can never impart 
 
 A pleasure so pure and so true 
 As I felt in my soul and my fluttering heart, 
 
 In the moonlight, when first I kissed you. 
 
 MY LITTLE ROBINS. 
 
 THE twilight deepens in the rosy west, 
 My truant robins seek their downy nest ; 
 All day long their little feet have wandered, 
 And I upon their sport have fondly pondered, 
 And set my soul upon the years in view 
 When baby robins shall their love renew ; 
 When little darlings from the parent home 
 Will spread their wings in other climes to roam, 
 And leave me in the twilight sad and lone, 
 To muse upon the beauties once mine own. 
 Will all the birdies that I nursed and dandled 
 Think of mother dear who fondly handled 
 The little wings and tired, tiny feet 
 That snuggled at my breast, so pure and sweet ? 
 And will the winter, with its chilling snow, 
 Bring back no sunbeams to my clouded woe ? 
 Or must I look beyond the grass-grown tomb, 
 To see mv sweet ones in celestial bloom ? 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 311 
 
 MASONIC BRIGHT LIGHT. 
 
 HERE'S the Templar Knights from the East and the West, 
 Children, children, won't you follow me ? 
 From the North and the South we all march abreast, 
 
 Halle, halle, halle, hallelujah ! 
 No more do we march as the Gray or the Blue, 
 
 Children, children, won't you follow me ? 
 But our plumes are white, and our hearts are true, 
 Halle, halle, halle, hallelujah ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 In the morning, in the morning, by the bright light, 
 When Gabriel blows his trumpet in the morning. 
 
 As a warrior band we march to the fight, 
 
 Children, children, won't you follow me ? 
 Our swords shall flash in the cause of the right, 
 
 Halle, halle, halle, hallelujah ! 
 The poor and the weak we are pledged to protect, 
 
 Children, children, won't you follow me ? 
 We are Christian men, without any sect, 
 
 Halle, halle, halle, hallelujah ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Then up with the Cross, and a cheer for the Crown ! 
 
 Children, children, won't you follow me ? 
 The Crescent of the Pagan is almost down, 
 
 Halle, halle, halle, hallelujah ! 
 Then hurrah for the girl we all love best ! 
 
 Children, children, won't you follow me ? 
 From the North, the South, the East and the West, 
 
 Halle, halle, hallo, hallelujah ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
312 POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 TOLL THE BELL. 
 
 ''POLL the bell slowly, meekly and lowly, 
 1 There comes an inanimate clod, 
 Sleeping forever beyond the dark river 
 A mortal has gone to his God . 
 
 Toll the bell faintly ; echoes so saintly 
 
 Are sounding o'er river and lea, 
 Telling the living all need forgiving 
 
 Before God and eternity. 
 
 Toll the bell lightly, daily and nightly, 
 
 A spirit is watching for thee ; 
 ( )ne that has loved us, one that has proved us 
 
 Some fond soul who loved you and me. 
 
 Toll the bell sadly ; heart-broken, madly, 
 
 We kiss the cold lips of the dead; 
 With hope, love and tears, run back o'er the years* 
 
 To pluck out some cruel word said. 
 
 MY WAR-HORSE, "BOB.' 
 
 IN MEMORY OF COL. CHAS. D. PENNYBACKER'S PET. 
 
 FAREWELL, farewell, my beautiful bay ! 
 Sadly I sigh for your loss to-day ; 
 My thoughts go back to the long ago, 
 Where we tramped and fought with the deadly foe 
 
 Of all the friends that I ever knew, 
 None served me so kind, so brave and true. 
 Ah ! how shall I tune this nameless lay 
 In memory of my dear old bay ? 
 
 No bugle note shall ever again 
 Call thee to muster on hill or plain ; 
 Where passion and pelf cause men to bleed, 
 No more shall I ride my gallant steed. 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 In the days of war, when blood flowed free, 
 We campaigned together, you and me; 
 Now who can blame me to grieve and sob 
 For losing my friend, my war-horse, " Bob." 
 
 Brave comrades have fallen by my side ; 
 In the battle ranks they fought and died; 
 Yet, even these heroes, young or gray, 
 Were not more prized than my noble bay. 
 
 OCEAN MEMORIES. 
 
 YEARS have gone by since we met at the sea, 
 The kiss that you gave, love, lingers with me ; 
 Thrills in my heart like an angelic tune, 
 Perfume distilled from the roses of June, 
 Silvery light from the face of the moon. 
 
 Lulled to repose by moan of the ocean, 
 Clasped in a thrill of blissful emotion, 
 Sunlight and starlight we catch but a rleam ; 
 The world is afloat, we live in a dream, 
 And things are not, surely, all that they seem. 
 
 Your secret and gem I still fondly keep 
 So close to my heart, awake or asleep ; 
 The world has no treasure dearer to me ; 
 Unpurchased, unsought, love without fee, 
 Was that soul-thrilling gift down by the sea. 
 
 Absent and lonely, my soul flies to thee, 
 Back to the shore of that sweet summer sea 
 A land where the vine and the orange both bloom, 
 And silver and gold its mountains entomb 
 A paradise planted, rich with perfume. 
 
 Sadly I sigh for your living embrace, 
 Fancy awakens the light of your face ; 
 Out through the mists of yon echoless shore 
 Angels are calling my lost, loved Lacore ; 
 Sighing, I pine for your love evennore. 
 
3 I4 POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 WHEN I AM DEAD. 
 
 WHEN I am dead, let no vain pomp display 
 A surface sorrow o'er my pulseless clay; 
 But all the dear old friends I loved in life 
 Can shed a tear, console my child and wife. 
 
 When I am dead, let strangers pass me by, 
 Nor ask a reason for the how or why 
 That brought my wandering life to praise or shame, 
 Or marked me for the fading flowers of fame. 
 
 When I am dead, the vile assassin tongue 
 Will try and banish all the lies it flung, 
 And make amends for all its cruel wrong, 
 In fulsome prose and eulogistic song. 
 
 When I am gone, some sage for self-renown 
 May urn my ashes in his native town; 
 And give, when I am cold and lost and dead, 
 A marble slab where once I needed bread. 
 
 When I am dead, what matters to the crowd ? 
 The world will rattle on as long and loud, 
 And each one in the game of life will plod 
 The field to glory and the way to God. 
 
 THE DAYS ARE GROWING SHORTER. 
 
 THE days are growing shorter every hour, 
 And all the sweets of life are turning sour 
 The morning dawns to me without a plan, 
 And everything seems happy but frail man. 
 
 The friends I knew and loved in former years 
 Have vanished like the sunshine through my tears : 
 They fill my soul with thoughts of long ago, 
 And memory brings me only bitter woe. 
 
POP: TIC WAIFS. 315 
 
 Sweet beauties that I cherished in their bloom 
 Went quickly to the cold and silent tomb, 
 And friends that were the dearest unto me 
 Are lost beneath the moaning weary sea. 
 
 The evening star is beaming soft and lone, 
 The forest trees are bending with a groan, 
 And in my heart there springs a nameless grief; 
 The grave alone must bring its sure relief. 
 
 The midnight hour approaches, sad and still, 
 Wild phantoms come and go against my will ; 
 Yet, through the fearful gloom methinks I see 
 A vista reaching to eternity. 
 
 OAK HILL. 
 
 C^ RAND home of the dead ! I mourn as I tread 
 \J Near the forms that crumble below ; 
 How sad and how still the graves at Oak Hill, 
 In the quiet evening glow. 
 
 Here's an old, old stone, moss-grown and alone, 
 
 Where Time has left not a trace 
 Of the name it bore in the days of yore, 
 
 When the body ceased its race. 
 
 Vain, vain is the thought ; no man ever bought 
 
 Exemption from final decay; 
 Vo live and to rot, and then be forgot 
 
 The fate of the quick of to-day. 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 THE ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. 
 
 A^ attorney-at-law lately put up his shingle, 
 And had scarcely enough of the specie to jingle ; 
 lie said to himself: " I shall work long and late 
 To find a rich will or a bankrupt estate. 
 
 So he sat in his office and puffed, day by day, 
 Forming rings of blue smoke, that floated away, 
 While with Parsons and Kent, and Blackstone and Chitty, 
 He appeared to his neighbors so wise and so witty. 
 
 At length a rich miller, by name Calvin Brown, 
 
 Tn search of a lawyer, came into the town, 
 
 AnJ spying a smoker, he thought he would pin him, 
 
 "Good morning," said Brown, to the loid of the laws 
 " I 've come to consult for the good of my cause." 
 " Be seated," said Skin'em ; " I know you'll be gainer, 
 But first, I require, now, a thousand retainer." 
 
 Brown stared in surprise at this heavy demand, 
 And said it was more than he felt he could stand ; 
 But the "limb of the law" a glance at him flings, 
 He puffed his cigar, and went on making rings. 
 
 The miller, at last, like the fly in the fable, 
 Was caught in the web ; where, entirely unable 
 To cope with the spider that bled him so neatly, 
 He gave up the ghost, and passed off completetly. 
 
 * * * * ) * 
 
 Skin'em is now the sole administrator ; 
 And you may be sure that, sooner or later, 
 The widow and orphans of one Calvin Brown 
 Are bereft of a home, and put on the town. 
 
 Then Skin'em will shine as a brave lady-killer 
 On plunder he filched from the honest old miller, 
 And the people will gaze on his rich turn-out, 
 And say to themselves : " How did this come about? 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 317 
 
 Poor dupes ! you are fooled by the gauze and the glitter ; 
 You begin with the sweet, and end with the bitter ; 
 And fellows like Skin'em lay ever in wait 
 To pounce on the bones of a crumbling estate. 
 
 Thus the law, you must know, is mruVa for the rich, 
 And the poor, as of old, are left in the ditch ; 
 No matter what rights you may have to maintain, 
 You'll lose in the end, should you dare to "retain." 
 
 Now take my advice, and keep out of the law ; 
 For once in the toils of its ravenous maw, 
 You are sure to be plucked, without mercy or grace, 
 And come out the last at the end of the race. 
 
 UNKNOWN. 
 
 I GAZED on the babe at its mother's breast, 
 And asked for the secret of life and rest ; 
 It turned with a smile that was sad and lone, 
 And murmured in dreaming: "Unknown, unknown.' 
 
 I challenged the youth so bold and so brave, 
 
 To tell me the tale of the lonely grave ; 
 
 Bat he sung of pleasure, in musical tone, 
 
 And his echoing voice replied " Unknown, unknown. 
 
 Then I questioned the gray-haired man of years, 
 Whose face was furrowed with thought and tears ; 
 And he paused in his race, to simply groan, 
 The soul-chilling words : " Unknown, unknown." 
 
 I asked the lover, the poet, and sage 
 In every clime and every age 
 To tell me the truth, and candidly own 
 If, after death, it's all unknown, unknown. 
 
 I soared like the lark to the boundless sky, 
 Sighed in my soul for the how and the why ; 
 
POETIC WAIFS. 
 
 The angels were singing, and just had flown ; 
 I heard but the echo : " Unknown, unknown." 
 
 I read in the hills, and saw in the rocks, 
 A lesson that told of the earthquake shocks ; 
 I gazed at the stars, from a mountain cone, 
 But they only answered : " Unknown, unknown." 
 
 Thus am I tortured by fear and by doubts 
 
 In tracing the way, where so many routes 
 
 Are ever in view, but quickly are flown, 
 
 And all that I know is : " Unknown, unknown." 
 
 At last I determined to surely find 
 
 All hope and all bliss in my mystic mind ; 
 
 But just as sweet peace came to soothe me alone, 
 
 The wild witch of doubt shrieked : " Unknown ! unknown 
 
 The sun and the moon, the winds and the wave, 
 May perish in time, and sink to the grave ; 
 The temples of earth shall fade, ctone by stone, 
 And mortals still wail out: " Unknown, unknown " 
 
 The millions of earth that battle to-day 
 Are but a handful to those passed away ; 
 The future is countless ; men from each zone 
 Shall flourish and die in the far-off Unknown. 
 
 We come like the dew-drops, and go like the mist, 
 As frail as a leaf by autumn winds kissed ; 
 Fading away like the roses of June, 
 Wishing and waiting to meet the Unknown. 
 
 Nature, oh ! Nature, thy God I adore ; 
 There's light in thy realm I ask for no more , 
 From the seed to the fruit all things are grown, 
 Yet, while we know this, the cause is unknown. 
 
 When matter and mind are perished and lost, 
 And all that we see into chaos is tossed, 
 From nothing to nothing we pass out alone, 
 Like a flash, or an echo " Unknown, unknown." 
 
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ 
 
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