Yale Uniyersili; Li ibfaf',' 39002028541168 ¦•Mp, 'm^WMi' "I g^LveiAt/e Books j farthefouiniing of a. College, in this Colony^'' '¥iaiLE»¥]MH¥IEI^SIir¥- J/906 GEN. WARREN RECEIVES A DISPATCH FROM GEN. MEADE. Frontis DOWN IN DIXIE LIFE IN A CAVALRY REGIMENT IN THE WAR DAYS FROM THE WILDERNESS TO APPOMATTOX BY STANTON p. ALLEN of the First Massachusetts Cavalry ILLUSTRATED BY H. G. LASKEY BOSTON D. LOTHROP COMPANY WASHINGTON STREET OPPOSITE BROMFIELD Copyright, i88S, BY Stanton P. Allen. Copyright, 1892, BY D. LoTHROP Company. TO MY DAUGHTER anniE abaline alien WIFE OF WILLIAM H. EDWARDS THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED CONTENTS CHAPTER I. More than He Bargained for — The War Fever and How it Affected the Boys — A Disbanded Cavalryman — Going to School in Uniform — Cousin Tom from Shiloh — Running away to Enlist — The Draft — In the Griswold Cavalry — Habeas Corpused 13 CHAPTER II. The War Fever Again — Going to a Shooting Match — Over the Mountains to Enlist — A Question of Age — Sent to Camp Meigs — The Recruit and the Corporal — The Trooper's Outfit — A Cartload of Military Traps — Paraded for Inspection — An OfScer who Had Been through the Mill .... . 29 CHAPTER III. Raw Recruits at the Rendezvous — A Friendly Sergeant — Helped Out of Trouble — Insignia of Rank — From Corporal to General — The Bill of Fare — Pass the Butter — A Serious Breach of Military Etiquette 47 CHAPTER IV. Taking the Stiffness Out of Recruits — The Awkward Squad — Dismounted jjrill — On Guard — The Sentinel's Orders — A New Hand's Experi ence on Post . . 5^ Vm CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. The Grand Rounds — Getting Even with the Officer of the Day — Infantry Orders for Cavalrymen — The Colored Troops at Camp Meigs — War time Love Letters — Why a New Hampshire Boy's Sweetheart did not Write — Missing in the Wilderness — A Soldier Boy's Elysium — Be trayed by a Bottle — A Woman in the Case 63 CHAPTER VI. The Buglers' Drill — Getting Used to the Calls — No Ear for Music — Visitor from Home — A Basket full of Goodies — Taking Tintypes. — A Special Artist at the Battle of Bull Run — Horses for the Troopers — Reviewed by a War Governor — Leaving Camp Meigs — A Mother's Prayers — the Emancipation Proclamation — Lincoln's Vow — The War Governor's Address .82 CHAPTER VII. Leaving the Old Bay State — Soldiers and Civilians — Patriotic Greetings along the Route — A Night on Long Island Sound — The Cooper Shop at Philadelphia — Feasted in the Quaker City — Soldier Life at Camp Stoneman — A Friendly Game of Draw — Poker-Pirates and Army Gamblers . . . . ..... CHAPTER VIII. Visiting the National Capital — An interesting Picture — Lincoln, Grant and Meade — The Provost Guard — A Courier to the Adjutant-General — Sweetening up a Jersey Regiment — The Army Mule and his Services to the Government — The Mule-Whacker's Code — Wonderful Possi bilities CHAPTER IX. Visited by Veterans — The Saber Exercise — Patroling Down the Potomac — Shot by his Tentmate — On the Sacred Soil of Virginia — A Snow storm in the Old Dominion — The Bull Run Battle Field War's Desolation — How a Cavalry Column Marches — Death on the Flank ...... . . j. CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Arrival at Warrenton — Locating a Camp — Dog Tents — Building Winter Quarters — On Picket — A Stand-off with the Rebels — A Fatal Post — Alarm at Midnight — Bugle Calls — The Soldier's Sabbath — The Articles of War and the Death Penalty .... 155 CHAPTER XI. General Grant as Commander-in-chief with the Army of the Potomac — How Grant Fought His Men — Not a Retreating Man — The Overland Campaign — The Grand Finale — After the War — The Old Com mander in Troy — En Route to MacGregor — Mustered Out 176 CHAPTER XII. The Company Cook and the Soldiers' Rations — Soap in the Soup — A Stag Dance — The Army Sutler — A Whiskey Barrel Tapped at Both Ends — The Long Roll — Breaking up Winter Quarters — Good Things from Home — Stripped for the Fight . . . . igo CHAPTER XIII. Crossing the Rapidan — The Pontoon Train — On the South Bank — The First Brigade — Out to Todd's Tavern — The Night Before the Battle 205 CHAPTER XIV. In the Wilderness — The First Shot — Forward Into Battle — Battle Field Experiences — The Soldier and the Parson — Charging' the Enemy — Fighting on Foot — Holding the Line — Ammunition Giving Out — Flanked by the Rebels — Our Horses Gone 214 CHAPTER XV. The very Man Grant Wanted — Sheridan at the Head of the Cavalry — Lively Times in the Wilderness — Falling Back — Little Phil to the Rescue — A Close Call for the Doctors — The First Night After the Opening of the Fight — A Town' in Mourning ... 225 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. A Council of War — Observations at Daylight — The Second Day in the Wilderness — Not to Fall Back — The Rebel Yell — The Third Day — ' Custer at Work — An ideal Cavalry Officer . . . ' 328 CHAPTER XVII. Observations in the Wilderness — Sounds of Battle — News from the Front — The Baptism of Fire — A Wilderness of Woe — The Best Cavalry General — A Tribute to Little Phil. 253 CHAPTER XVIII. Feeling Around Lee's Right — Fighting at Todd's Tavern — Out of the Wilderness — Sheridan Ordered to Cut Loose — A Peppery Interview — " I can Whip Stuart " — " Go Out and Do it " .... 264 CHAPTER XIX. Around Lee's Right Flank — Removing the Wounded from the Wilderness to Fredericksburg — The Rear Guard's Good Work — The First Night Out — Good News from the Head of the Column — Custer's Brigade at Beaver Dam — In Rear of Lee's Army — Union Prisoners Released — Glory, Hallelujah ! 270 CHAPTER XX. Sheridan's Raid — Turning Out Lively — Crossing the North Anna — Massa Linkum's Sojers — The Tables Turned — The Name of Mother — A Yankee's Benediction — Pushing On From Beaver Dam — "The Kingdom Comin' " — The Grave of Massa Tom — Foraging on the Enemy — The Old Planter and the Vandal Horde — Yankees Without Horns 283 CHAPTER XXI. Davies's Brigade at Ashland — A Noble Young Officer Killed While Lead ing a Charge — The Body Recovered by his Father — Buried Beside his Mother— A Christian Father's Sacrifice -^06 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXII. The Battle of Yellow Tavern — Jeb Stuart Killed— Going Through — Sheridan at the Front — A Sharpsliooter Quieted — Alarm in Rich mond .... . CHAPTER XXIII. 3" Operations Around Richmond — The Fight at Meadow Bridge — Jeff Davis rides out to see the Yankees Whipped — Springing a Trap — The Rebels Repulsed — The Latest Confederate Newspapers — A Good Deal in a Name — To the James River— Supplies for Sheridan's Cavalry — Bully for Butler — Rest for the Weary . 320 CHAPTER XXIV. Butler's Advance on the South Side — How the Massachusetts Major- General Flscaped Hanging — Returning to Grant's Army — The Fight at Hawes's Shop — A Dying Confederate's Last Request — Holding Cold Harbor- at all Hazards — Filling the Canteens — Running Into the Enemy . . . . 336 CHAPTER XXV. The Trevilian Station Raid — Cutting the Virginia Central Railroad — Custer Between Two Fires — Charge of the First Division — The Rebels Routed — Hampton's Men fighting Behind Breastworks — Tor- bert's Troopers Repulsed — Hunter Headed for Lynchburg — Sheri dan's Withdrawal . . 358 CHAPTER XXVI. Over the Battle Field of Spottsylvania — Ghastly Sights in the Trenches — A Confederate Widow and her Yankee Patient — Sheridan's Bivouac — Caring for the Wounded — The Negro Exodous — Out of the Land of Bondage — Bound for the Land of Canaan — " Old Virginny Nebber Tire" ... 366 CHAPTER XXVII. Arrival at White House — Horse Trading in the Cavalry Corps — An Ex change that Suited both Parties — Marching Against Hampton — The Rebels Fall Back — Ordered to Move the Trains to Deep Bottom 376 XU CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXVIII. Cavalry Guarding the Trains — Gregg's Gallant Stand at St. Mary's Church — Holding on to Save the Wagons — Crossing the James. . . 386 CHAPTER XXIX. Operations South of the James — Safeguard at Lee's Mill — Fishing with Extraordinary Luck — Profitable Interviews with Plantation Hands — The Flour of the Forest. ... 392 CHAPTER XXX. Sent to the Hospital — The Convalescent's Vision — The Name on the Head-board — Killed, July 28, 1864 — How Taylor Died — Shot with his Harness On. . . ...... 401 CHAPTER XXXI. Headquarters and Hospitals at City Point — The Sanitary and Christian Commissions — Along the Line in Front of Petersburg — At Meade's Headquarters — A Visit to Fort Sedgwick — On the Picket Line — Talking it Over — Trading Newspapers — An Ail-Night Bombardment. 410 CHAPTER XXXII. Moving against the Weldon Railroad — A Dispatch to Gen. Warren — Ad venture with a Runaway Doughboy — To hear the Last Words of a Dying Boy — A Furlough for Twenty Days — An Affecting Meeting — The Case Taken to Father Abraham 424 CHAPTER XXXIII. Home on Furlough — Having a Good Time — The Girl of the Period — Hoop-skirts at Lincoln's Inauguration — Back to the Front — Hang man's Day near Hancock Station. . . . . 436 CHAPTER XXXIV. Doleful Tales by Deserters from Lee's Army — President Lincoln's Visit to the Front — A Memorable Meeting — The Fort Steadman Assault — Lincoln on Horseback — At the Head of the Column — Wanted to Get Off and Pull Down his Pants. 442 CONTENTS. XI 11 CHAPTER XXXV. Grant's Spring Opening — By the Left Flank Again — Sheridan at Five Forks — The Fall of Richmond and Petersburg — A Dangerous Ride — How Jeff Davis faced the Yankees — Chasing Lee up the Appo mattox — Breaking the Backbone of the Southern Confederacy — The Surrender — Confiscating a Confederate Goose — A Colored Boy to the Rescue. . . .451 CHAPTER XXXVI. Assassination of Lincoln — The Return March — A Homeless Confederate — Not Destroyed by the Yankees — The Goddess of Liberty — The Grand Review — Grant's Final Order. . . . 469 CHAPTER XXXVII. Mustered Out at Arlington Heights — Back to the Old Bay State — Dis charged From the Service — Startling News in a Quiet Village — Home, Sweet Home 479 CHAPTER XXXVIII. A Regimental Reunion — Back to the Wilderness — How the Boys Looked a Quarter of a Century after the War — A Major's Close Call — The Story of a Charge — The Boy Bugler — The Grander Army — Waiting for the General Roll Call 482 ILLUSTRATIONS. Gen. Warren Receives a Dispatch from Gen. Meade .... Frontis. First Enlistment ............ 23 Getting Even with the Officer of the Day 67 Joe Dictates his Letter to Mary yj " It is Gin, Sir," said the Orderly yg In the Saddle 94 " Halt — You Can't Go Through Here ! " . 99 He had been Wounded at Gettysburg . . . . . . . . 117 Intercepted by the Provost Guard . 127 Trading Canteens 142 " Soap in my Soup I " He Exclaimed 197 Tapping the Sutler's Whiskey Barrel . 202 Taking Possession of the Runaway 237 Detailed to Draw the Enemy's Fire 247 In the Wilderness ........... 263 A Rebel Sharpshooter . 318 The Federal Surgeon Aids a Dying Confederate 349 Calling for Water 370 " Uncle Dan'l " gives the Boys in Blue a Timely Hint .... 399 The Girl of the War Period 439 Wounded Confederate ,,,,,,,,,, 474 DOWN IN DIXIE. CHAPTER I. More than He Bargained for — The War Fever and How it Affected the Boys — A Disbanded Cavalryman — Going to School in Uniform — Cousin Tom from Shiloh — Running Away to Enlist — The Draft — In the Griswold Cavalry — Habeas Corpused. N the local columns of the Troy (N. Y.) Daily Times of September i, 1863, the following news item was published : MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR. ,^-, "A few days ago one Stanton P. Allen of Berlin, en- ^ '^^^ listed in Capt. Boutelle's company of the twenty-first (Gris- -wold) cavalry. We are not informed whether it was Stanton's bearing the same name as the Secretary of War, or his mature cast of countenance that caused him to be accepted ; for he was regarded as nineteen years of age, while, in reality, but fourteen summers had passed over his youthful, but ambitious brow. Stan ton received a portion of his bounty and invested himself in one of those ' neat, but not gaudy ' yellow and blue suits that constitute the uniform of the Griswold boys. A few days intervened. Stanton's ' parients,' on the vine-clad hills of Ber lin, heard that their darling boy had ' gone for a sojer.' Their emotions were indescribable. 'So young and yet so valiant,' thought his female relatives. ^ How can I get him out ? ' was the more practical query of his papa. The ways '3 14 ' DOWN IN DIXIE. and means were soon discovered. A writ of habeas corpus was j^rocured from Judge Robertson, and as the proof was clear that Stanton was only fourteen years old, he was duly discharged from the service of the United States. But the end was not yet. A warrant was issued for the recruit, charging him with obtaining bounty and uniform under false pretenses, and a release from the military service proved only a transfer to the civil power. Stanton found that he had made a poor exchange of ' situations,' and last evening gave bail before Judge Robertson in the sum of five hundred dollars." In order that the correctness of history may not be questioned, the subject of the above deems it expedient to place on record an outline of the circumstances lead ing up to the incident related by the Times. At the breaking out of the war my father resided in Berlin, N. Y., on the Brimmer farm, three miles or so from the village. I was twelve years old, but larger than many lads of sixteen. I was attacked by the war fever as soon as the news that Fort Sumter had been fired on reached the Brimmer farm. Nathaniel Bass worked for my father that year. The war fever got hold of Nat after haying was over, and one night along in the latter part of August, he said to me : " I'm going to war." " You don't mean it, Nat ? " "Yes, I do. The fall's work won't last long, and they say they're paying thirteen dollars a month and found for soldiers. That's better'n doing chores for your board." " If you do go I'll run away and enlist." " No ; you're too young to go to war. You must DOWN IN DIXIE. 15 wait till you're an able-bodied man — that's what the bills call for." " O, dear ! I'm afraid you'll whip all the rebels before I can get there." I cried myself to sleep that night. How I envied Nat when he came home on a three days' furlough clad in a full suit of cavalry uniform ! He enlisted September 20, 1861, in the Second New York cavalry. The regiment was known as the Northern Black-horse cavalry. Nat allowed me to try on his jacket, and I strutted about in it for an hour or so. I felt that even in wearing it for a short time I was doing something toward whipping the Southerners. But Bass's furlough came to an end, and he returned to his regiment. Nat came back in time to help us plant in the spring of 1862. The regiment went as far as Camp Stoneman, near Washington, where it remained in winter quarters. It was not accepted by the United States Government, and was never mounted. The reason given was that the Government had more cavalry than it could handle, and the Northern Black-horse cavalry was disbanded. The regiment was raised by Colonel Andrew J. Morri son, who subsequently served with distinction at the head of a brigade. Nat came home " chock-full " of war stories. He was just as much a hero in my estimation as he would have 1 6 DOWN IN DIXIE. been if the rebels had shot him all to pieces. I never tired of listening to his yarns about the experiences of the regiment at Camp Stoneman. He had not seen a rebel, dead or alive, but that was not his fault. Nat was something of a singer, and he had a song describing the adventures of his regiment. The soldiers were re ferred to as " rats." I recall one verse and the chorus : " The rats they were mustered, And then they were paid ; ' And now,' says Col. Morrison, ' We'll have a dress parade.' Lally boo ! Lally boo, oo, oo, Lally bang, bang, bang, Lally boo, oo, oo, Lally bang ! " I would join in the chorus, and although I did not understand the sentiment — if there was any in the song — I was ready to adopt it as a national hymn. I was the proudest boy in the Brimmer district at the opening of school the next winter. I fairly "paralyzed" the teacher, George Powell, and all the scholars, when I marched in wearing Nat's cavalry jacket and forage cap. He had made me a present of them. I was the lion of the day. The jacket fitted me like a sentry-box, but the girls voted the rig " perfectly lovely." Half a dozen big boys threatened to punch my eyes out if I did not " leave that ugly old jacket at home." I enjoyed the notoriety, and continued to wear DOWN IN DIXIE. 17 the jacket. But one day Jim Duffy, a boy who worked for Tom Jones, came into the school with an artillery jacket on. It was of the same pattern as the jacket I wore, but had red trimmings in place of yellow. The girls decided that Jim's jacket was the prettier. I made up my mind to challenge Jim at the afternoon recess, but my anger moderated as I heard one of the small girls remark : " But Jim ain't got no sojer cap, so he ain't no real sojer — he's only a make-b'lief." " Sure enough ! " chorused the girls. Then I expected Duffy to challenge me, but he did not, and there was no fight. That same winter Thomas Torrey of Williamstown came to our house visiting. Tom was one of the first to respond to the call for volunteers to put down the rebellion. He was in the Western army, and fought under Grant at Shiloh. He received a wound in the second day's fight, May 7, 1862, that crippled him for life. He had his right arm extended to ram home a cartridge, when a rebel bullet struck him in the wrist. The ball shattered the bone of the forearm and sped on into the shoulder, which it disabled. Tom's good right arm was useless forever after. Tom was a better singer than Bass, and as we claimed him as our cousin, it seemed as if our family had already shed blood to put down the rebellion. 1 8 DOWN IN DIXIE. While the wounded soldier remained at our house and told war stories and sang the patriotic songs of the day, my enthusiasm was kept at one hundred and twenty degrees in the shade. I made up my mind that I would go to war or " bust a blood vessel." I assisted in dress ing Tom's shattered arm once or twice, but even that did not quench the patriotic fire that had been kindled in my breast by Bass's war stories and fanned almost into a conflagration by Tom's recital of his experiences in actual combat. I discarded Nat's "Lally boo " and transferred my allegiance to a stirring song sung by Tom : " At Pittsburg Landing Our troops fought very hard ; They killed old Johnston And conquered Beauregard. Chorus : " Hoist up the flag ; Long may it wave Over the Union boys, So noble and so brave." I laid awake nights and studied up plans to go to Pittsburg Landing and run a bayonet through the rebel who shot " Cousin Tom." The summer of 1862 was a very trying time. Char ley Taylor of Berlin, opened a recruiting office in the village and enlisted men for Company B, One hundred and twenty-fifth New York volunteers. I wanted to go, but when I suggested it to my father he remarked : DOWN IN DIXIE. 19 "They -don't take boys who can't hoe a man's row. You'll have to wait five or six years." When the Berlin boys came home on furlough from Troy, to show themselves in their new uniforms and bid their friends good-by, it seemed to me that my chances of reaching the front in time to help put down the rebellion, were slim indeed. I reasoned that if Nat Bass could have driven the rebels into Richmond alone — as he said he could have done if he had been given an opportunity — the war would be brought to a speedy close when Company B was turned loose upon the Con federates in Virginia. It seemed that nearly everybody was going in Company B except Bass and I. I urged Nat to go, but he said it would be considered " small potatoes for a man who had served in the cavalry to re- enlist in the infantry." If I had not overlooked the fact that Nat had never straddled a horse during his six months' service in Col. Morrison's regiment, I might have questioned the consistency of Bass's position. The One hundred and twenty-fifth left Troy Satur day, August 30, 1862, and on the same day the second battle of Bull Run was fought, resulting in the retreat of the Union Army into the fortifications around Washington. " I told you so," said Bass, when the news of the battle reached Berlin. " The boys in Company B will have their hands full. They will reach the front in 20 DOWN IN DIXIE. time to take part in this fall's campaign. I shall wait till next summer, and then if there's a call for another cavalry regiment to fight the rebels, I'll go down and help whip 'em some more." When the news of Grant's glorious capture of Vicks burg, and Meade's splendid victory at Gettysburg, was received in Berlin, I made up my mind that the crisis had arrived. I said to Bass : " Nat, our time's come." " How so ? " " We've waited a year, and they've called for another regiment of cavalry." " Then I believe I'll go." " So'll I." " Where's the regiment being raised ? " " In Troy." " Will your father let you go ? " " Of course not — don't say a word to him. But I tell you, Nat, I'm going. The Union armies are knock ing the life out of the rebels east and west, and it's now or never. I can't stand it any longer. I'm going to war." I was only a boy — born February 20, 1849 — but thanks to an iron constitution, splendid health and a vigorous training in farm work, I had developed into a lad who would pass muster for nineteen almost anywhere. DOWN IN DIXIE. 21 Bass got away from me. My father drove to Troy with Nat, who enlisted August 7, in Company E, of the Griswold cavalry. The regiment was taken to the front and into active service by the late General William B. Tibbits of Troy. About the first of August a circus pitched its tents in Berlin. Everybody went to the show. While the acrobats were vaulting about in the ring, a lad in a cavalry uniform entered the tent and took a seat not far from where I was sitting. The circus was a tame affair to me after that. A live elephant was nowhere when a boy in blue was around. " Who's that soldier ? " I asked my best girl. " That's Henry Tracy ; I wish he'd look this way. He's too sweet for anything." " Where's he from ? " " Off the mountain, from the Dutch settlement near the Dyken pond. Isn't he lovely ! What a nobby suit ! " When the circus was out, I managed to secure an interview with the " bold sojer boy," who informed me that he was in the same camp with Bass at Troy. " How old are you ? " I asked Tracy. " I'm just eighteen," he answered, with a wink that gave me to understand that I was not to accept the statement as a positive fact. " Do you think they'd take me ? " 2 2 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Certainly ; you're more'n eighteen." " When are you going back } " " Shall start to-night. Think you'll go along? " " Yes ; if you really think they'll take me." " I'm sure they will ; you just let me manage the thing for you." " All right ; I'm with you." I went with Tracy that night — after he had seen his girl home. As we climbed the steep mountain, I expected every minute to hear the footsteps of a brigade of relatives in pursuit. We reached the Tracy domicile about midnight, and went to bed. I could not sleep. The frogs in the pond near the house kept up a loud chorus, led by a bull-frog with a deep bass voice. I had heard the frogs on other occasions when fishing in the mountain lakes, and the boys agreed that the burden of the frog chorus was : You'd better go round I You'd better go round ! We'll bite your bait off ! We'll bite your bait off ! Somehow the chorus seemed that night to have been changed. As I lay there and listened for the sound of my father's wagon, the frogs sang after this fashion : You'd better go home I You'd better go home ! They'll shoot your head oft ! They'll shoot your head off ! FIRST ENLISTMENT. DOWN IN DIXIE. 25 And, oh ! how that old bull-frog with the bass voice came in on the chorus : They'll shoot your head off I " We got up at daylight, and walked over to the plank road and waited for the stage from Berlin to come along, en route to Troy. When the vehicle came in sight, I hid in the bushes until Tracy could reconnoiter and ascertain if my father was on board. He gave a signal that the coast was clear, and we took passage for the city. " You're Alex Allen's boy ? " the driver — Frank Maxon — said, as we took seats in the stage. " What about it ? " " I heard 'em say at the post-office this morning that you'd run away." " False report," said Tracy ; " he's just going to Troy to bid me good-by." " Well, he must be struck on you, as they say he never set eyes on you till yesterday." The stage rattled into Troy about half-past ten o'clock. There was considerable excitement in the city over the draft. Soldiers were camped in the court-house yard and elsewhere. They were Michigan regiments, I think. There was a section of artillery in the' yard of the hotel above the tunnel. I could not understand how it was that the Government was obliged to resort to a 26 DOWN IN DIXIE. draft to secure soldiers. To me it seemed that an able- bodied man who would not volunteer to put down the rebellion, was pretty " small potatoes." But I was only a boy. Older persons did not look at it in the same light as I did. By the way, the draft euchred our family out of three hundred dollars. When I enlisted in the First Massachusetts, after the failure of my plan to reach Dixie in the Griswold cavalry, I was paid three hundred dollars bounty. I sent it home to my father. The draft " scooped him in," and the Gov ernment got the three hundred dollars back, that being the sum the drafted men were called on to pay to secure exemption. Tracy escorted me to Washington Square, where there were several tents in which recruiting officers were enlisting men for the Griswold cavalry. A bounty of two dollars was paid to each person bringing in a re cruit. Tracy sold me to a sergeant named Cole for two dollars, but he divided the money with me on the way to camp. As we entered the tent where Sergeant Cole was sitting, Tracy said : " This young man wants to enlist, Sergeant." " All right, my boy ; how old are you — nineteen, I suppose ? " " Of course he's nineteen," said Tracy. I did not contradict what my soldier friend had said, and the sergeant made out my enlistment papers, Tracy DOWN IN DIXIE. 27 making all the responses for me as to age. After I had been "sworn in " for three years, or during the war, I was paid ten dollars bounty. Then we went up to the barracks, and I was turned over to the first sergeant of Captain George V. Boutelle's company. I drew my uniform that night. The trousers had to be cut off top and bottom. The jacket was large enough for an over coat. The army shirt scratched my back — but what is the use of reviving dead issues ! One day orders came for Capt. Boutelle's company to " fall in for muster." The line was formed down near the gate. I was in the rear rank on the left. The mustering officer stood in front of the company with the roll in his hand. Just at this time, my father with a deputy sheriff arrived with the habeas corpus, which was served on Capt. Boutelle, and I was ordered to " fall out." Then we went to the city, to the office of Honorable Gilbert Robertson, Jr., provost judge, and after due in- quir)* had been made as to " the cause of detention by the said Capt. Boutelle of the said Stanton P. Allen," the latter "said " was declared to be discharged from Uncle Sam's service. My father refunded the ten dollars bounty, and offered to return the uniform, but Capt. Boutelle refused to accept the clothes, charging that I had obtained property from the Government under false pretenses. Under that charge I was held in five hun dred dollars bail, as stated in the Times, but the court 28 DOWN IN DIXIE. remarked to my father that " that'll be the end of it, probably, as the captain will be ordered to the front, and there will be no one here to prosecute the case." As we were leaving Judge Robertson's office, a policeman arrested me. He marched me toward the jail. Pointing to the roof of the prison he said : " My son, I'm sorry for you." " What are you going to do with me .'' " I asked. " Put you in jail." " What for ? " " Defrauding the Government. But I'm sorry to see you go to jail. They may keep you there for life. They'll keep you there till the war is over, any way, for people are so busy with the war that they can't stop to try cases of this kind. You are charged with getting into the army without your father's consent. Maybe they won't hang you, but it'll go hard with you, sure. I don't want to see you die in prison. If I thought you'd go home and not run away again, I'd let you escape." That was enough. I double-quicked it up the street and hid in the hotel barn where my father's team was until he came along. I was ready to go home with him. I did not know at that time that the arrest, after I had been bailed, was a put-up job. It was intended to friarhten me. And it worked to a charm. It was a regular Bull Run affair. CHAPTER IL The War Fever Again — Going to a Shooting Match — Over the Mountains to Enlist — A Question of Age — Sent to Camp Meigs — The Recruit and the Corporal — The Trooper' s Out fit — A Cartload of Military Traps — Paraded for Inspection — An Officer who Had Been through the Mill. RETURNED to Berlin very much dis couraged. There had not been any thing pleasant about our camp life in Troy — the food was poorly cooked, the camp discipline was on the go-as-you- please order at first, and sleeping on a hard bunk was not calculated to inspire patriotism in lads who had always enjoyed the luxury of a feather bed. Yet the thought that I was a Union soldier, and a Griswold cavalryman to boot, had acted as an offset to the hardships of camp life, and after my return home the " war fever " set in again. The relapse was more difficult to prescribe for than the first attack. The desire to reach the front was stimulated 29 30 DOWN IN DIXIE. by the taunts of the wiseacres about the village who would bear down on me whenever I chanced to be in their presence, as follows : " Nice soldier, you are ! " " How do the rebels look ? '' " Sent for your father to come and get you, they say." " Did they offer you a commission as jigadier brindle .? " " When do you start again ? " Quite a number of the boys about the village and from the back hollows interviewed me now and then in respect of my army experience. I was a veteran in their estimation. After several conferences, a company of " minute-men " was organized. We started with three members — Irving Waterman, Giles Taylor and myself. I was elected captain. Waterman first lieutenant and Taylor second lieutenant. We could not get any of the other boys to join as privates. They all wanted to be officers, so we secured no recruits. It was decided that we would run away and enlist at the first opportu nity. Taylor was considerable of a "boy" as compared with Waterman and myself, as he was married and a legal voter. Waterman was nearly two years my senior, but as I had " been to war " they insisted that I should take the lead and they would follow. We finally fixed upon Thanksgiving Day in Novem- DOWN IN DIXIE. 31 ber, 1863, as the time to start for Dixie. Waterman had scouted over around Williamstown, and he came back with the report that two Williams College stu dents were raising a company of cavalry. Thanksgiv ing morning I informed my mother that I was going to a shooting match. It proved to be more of a shooting match than I expected. The minute-men met at a place that had been selected, and started for Dixie. At the Mansion House, Williamstown, we introduced ourselves to Lieutenant Edward Payson Hopkins, son of a Williams College professor. The lieutenant was helping his cousin, Amos L. Hopkins, who had been commissioned lieutenant and who expected to be a cap tain, to raise a company. " As soon as he secures his quota, I shall enlist for myself," said the lieutenant, who added, that we could put our names down on his roll and he would go with us to North Adams, at which place we could take cars for Pittsfield, where Captain Hopkins's recruiting office was located. We rode to North Adams in a wagon owned by Professor Hopkins and which was pressed into service for the occasion by the professor's soldier son. The lieutenant handled the lines and the whip, he and I occupying the seat, and Taylor and Waterman sat on a board placed across the wagon behind. At North Adams we were taken into an office where we were examined by the town war committee. 32 DOWN IN DIXIE. One of the committee was Quinn Robinson, a prom inent citizen. I was called before the committee first, and having been through the mill before, I man aged to satisfy the committee that I was qualified to wear a cavalry uniform and draw full rations. I remem ber that in canvassing the question of age — or rather what we should say on that subject — we had agreed to state that we were twenty-one. I was not fifteen until the next February. The examiners did not question my age. " We won't say twenty-one years," said Waterman, " and so we won't lie about it." After I had been under fire for some time I was told to step aside, and Waterman was brought before the examiners. " He looks too young," said Mr. Robinson to Lieu tenant Hopkins. " Well, question him," suggested the lieutenant. " How old are you.? " inquired the committee man. " Twenty-one, sir," replied Waterman. " When were you twenty-one ? " " Last week." " I think you're stretching it a little." "No, sir; I'm older than Allen, who has just been taken in." " I guess not; you may go out in the other room by the stove and think it over." DOWN IN DIXIE. 33 Our married man Taylor was next called in. " We can't take you," said Robinson. " What's matter .? " exclaimed Giles. " You're not old enoueh." " How old've I got to be .? " "Twenty-one, unless you get the consent of your parents." " Taylor's a married man," I whispered to Lieuten ant Hopkins. " Don't tell that, or he'll be asked^to get the consent of his wife," said the lieutenant, also in a whisper. The committee contended that Taylor would not fill the bill. Waterman was recalled, and Mr. Robinson said : " Well, you've had time to think it over. Now how old are you ? " " Twenty-one, last week." " I can't hardly swallow that." " See here, Mr. Quinn" (I had not heard the com mittee man's other name then), I interrupted. " We three have come together to enlist. You have said that I can go. Taylor may be a trifle under age, but what of it? If you don't take the three of us none of us will go." There was more talk of the same kind, but finally the war committee decided to send us on to Pittsfield and let the recruiting authorities of that place settle the question of Taylor and Waterman's eligibility. 34 DOWN IN DIXIE. There was no trouble at Pittsfield, and we were for warded to Boston in company with several other recruits. The rendezvous was at Camp Meigs in Read- ville, ten miles or so below the city. Arriving at the camp we were marched to the barracks of Company I, Third Battalion, First Massachusetts cavalry, to which company we had been assigned. When we entered the barracks we were greeted with cries of " fresh fish," etc., by the " old soldiers," some of whom had reached camp only a few days before our ar- rival. We accepted the situation, and were ready as soon as we had drawn our uniforms to join in similar greetings to later arrivals. The barracks were one- story board buildings. They would shed rain, but the wind made itself at home inside the structures when there was a storm, so there was plenty of ventilation. The bunks were double-deckers, arranged for two soldiers in each berth. " I'm not going to sleep in that apple bin without you give me a bed," said Taylor to the corporal who pointed out our bunks. " Young man, do you know who you're speaking to?" thundered the corporal. " No ; you may be the general or the colonel or noth ing but a corporal " — " ' Nothing but a corporal ! ' I'll give you to under stand that a corporal in the First Massachusetts cavalry DOWN IN DIXIE. 35 is not to be insulted. You have no right to speak to me without permission. I'll put you in the guard house and prefer charges against you." " See here," said Taylor. " Don't you fool with me. If you do I'll cuff you." " Mutiny in the barracks," shouted a lance sergeant who heard Giles's threat to smite the corporal. The first sergeant came out of a little room near the door, and charged down toward us with a saber in his hand. " What's the trouble here ? " he demanded. " This recruit threatened to strike me," replied the corporal. "And he threatened to put me in the guard house for saying I wouldn't sleep in that box without a bed," said Taylor. " Did you ever hear the articles of war read ? " asked the sergeant. " No, sir." " Well, then, we'll let you go this time ; but you've had a mighty narrow escape. Had you struck the cor poral the penalty would have been death. Never talk back to an officer." " Golly ! that was a close call," whispered Taylor, after he had crawled into his bunk. We each had a blanket issued to us for that night, but the next day straw ticks were filled, and added to our 36 DOWN IN DIXIE. comfort. Waterman and I took the upper bunk, and Giles slept downstairs alone until he paired with Theo dore C. Hom of Williamstown, another new-comer. One of the most discouraging experiences that a re cruit was called upon to face before he reached the front was the drawing of his outfit — receiving his uniform and equipments. I speak of cavalry recruits. If there ever was a time when I felt homesick and regretted that I had not enlisted in the infantry it was the morning of the second day after our arrival at Camp Meigs. I re call no one event of my army life that broke me up so completely as did this experience. I had drawn a uni form in the Griswold cavalry at Troy before my father appeared on the scene with a habeas corpus, but I had not been called on to take charge of a full set of cavalry equipments. If I had been perhaps the second attack of the war fever would not have come so soon. A few minutes after breakfast the first sergeant of Company I came out from his room near the door and shouted : " Attention ! " " Attention ! " echoed the duty sergeants and cor porals in the barracks. " Recruits of Company I who have not received their uniforms fall in this way." A dozen " Johnny come Latelys," including the Ber lin trio, fell in as directed. The sergeant entered oup DOWN IN DIXIE. 37 names in a memorandum book. Then we were turned over to a corporal, who marched us to the quartermas ter's office where we stood at attention for an hour or so while the requisition for our uniforms was going through the red-tape channels. Finally the door opened, and a dapper young sergeant with a pencil behind his ear informed the corporal that " all's ready." The names were called alphabetically, and I was the first of the squad to go inside to receive my outfit. " Step here and sign these vouchers in duplicate," said the sergeant. I signed the papers. The sergeant threw the differ ent articles of the uniform and equipments in a heap on the floor, asking questions and answering them himself after this fashion : "What size jacket do you wear? No. i. Here's a No. 4 ; it's too large, but you can get the tailor to alter it. " Here's your overcoat ; it's marked No. 3, but the contractors make mistakes; I've no. doubt it's a No. i. " That forage cap's too large, but you can put paper in the lining. " Never mind measuring the trousers ; if they're too long you can have 'em cut off. " The shirts and drawers will fit anybody ; they're made that way. " You wear No. 6 boots, but you'll get so much drill your feet'll swell so these No. 8's will be just the fit. 38 DOWN IN DIXIE. " This is your bed blanket ; don't get it mixed with your horse blanket. " I'll let you have my canteen and break in the new one ; mine's been used a little and got jammed a bit, but that don't hurt it. " This is your haversack ; take my advice and always keep it full. "This white piece of canvas is your shelter tent; it is warranted to shelter you from the rain if you pitch it inside a house that has a good roof on it. " These stockings are rights and lefts. " Here's your blouse. We're out of the small num bers, but it is to be worn on fatigue and at stables, so it's better to have plenty of room in your blouse. " You will get white gloves at the sutler's store if you've got the money to settle. He'll let you have sand paper, blacking, brushes, and other cleaning materials on the same terms. " Here's a rubber poncho. " Let's see ! that's all in the clothing line. Now for your arms and accoutrements ! " I appealed to the sergeant : " Let me carry a load of my things to the barracks before receiving my arms and other fixings ? " " Can't do it — take too much time ; and if you did go over with part of your outfit, somebody'd steal what you left in the barracks before you returned with the rest." DOWN IN DIXIE. 39 " Go it, then," I xclaimed in despair, and the ser- geant continued : "This carbine is just the thing to kill rebels with if you ever get near enough to them. It's a short-range weapon, but cavalrymen are supposed to ride down the enemy at short range. " The carbine sling and swivel attaches the carbine over your shoulder. " This cartridge box will be filled before you go on the skirmish line ; so will the cap pouch. " This funny-looking little thing with a string at tached is a wiper with which to keep your carbine clean inside. " The screw-driver will be handy to take your car bine apart, but don't do it when near the enemy. They might scoop you in before you could put your gun together. " Your revolver is for short-range work. You can kill six rebels with it without reloading, if the rebels will hold still and you are a crack shot. You can keep the pistol in this holster which attaches to your waist- belt, as does also this box for pistol cartridges. " These smaller straps are to hold your saber scab bard to the waist-belt, and this strap goes over the shoulder to keep your belt from slipping down around your heels. "This is your saber inside the scabbard. I've no 40 DOWN IN DIXIE. doubt it's inscribed ' Never draw me without cause or sheathe me with dishonor,' but we can't stop to look at it now. If it isn't inscribed, ask your first sergeant about it. The saber knot completes this part of the out fit. The saber is pretty big for you, but we're out of children's sizes. The horse furniture comes next." " Will you please let Taylor and Waterman come in here and help me ? " I petitioned to the sergeant. " Everybody for himself is the rule in the army," said the sergeant. " Tie up your clothing and arms in your bed blanket. You can put your horse furniture in your saddle blanket." Section 1,620 of the " Revised United States Army Regulations of 1861, with an Appendix Containing the Changes and Laws Affecting Army Regulations and Articles of War to June 25, 1863," reads as follows : " A complete set of horse equipments for mounted troops consists of i bridle, i watering bridle, i halter, i saddle, i pair saddle-bags, i saddle blanket, i surcingle, I pair spurs, i curry-comb, i horse brush, i picket pin, and I lariat ; i link and i nose bag when specially required." The section reads smoothly enough. There is noth ing formidable about it to the civilian. But, ah me ! Surviving troopers of the great conflict will bear me out when I say that section 1,620 aforesaid, stands for a great deal more than it would be possible for the unini- DOWN IN DIXIE. 41 tiated to comprehend at one sitting. The bridle, for in stance, is composed of one headstall, one bit, one pair of reins. And the headstall is composed of " i crown piece, the ends split, forming i cheek strap and i throat lash billet on one side, and on the other i cheek strap and I throat lash, with i buckle, .625-inch, 2 chapes and 2 buckles, .75-inch, sewed to the ends of cheek piece to attach the bit ; i brow band, the ends doubled and sewed from two loops on each end through which the cheek straps and throat lash and throat lash billet pass." So much for the headstall. It would take three times the space given to the headstall to describe the bit, and then come the reins. The watering bridle " is composed of i bit and i pair of reins." The halter's de scription uses up one third of a page. " The saddle is composed of i tree, 2 saddle skirts, 2 stirrups, i girth and girth strap, i surcingle, i crupper." Two pages of the regulations are required to describe the different pieces that go to make up the saddle complete, and which include six coat straps, one carbine socket, saddle skirts, saddle-bags, saddle blanket, etc. The horse brush, curry-comb, picket pin, lariat, link and nose bag all come in for detailed descriptions, each with its separate pieces. Let it be borne in mind that all these articles were thrown into a heap on the floor, and that every strap, buckle, ring and other separate piece not riveted or 42 DOWN IN DIXIE. sewed together was handed out by itself, the sergeant rattling on like a parrot all the time, and perhaps a faint idea of the situation may be obtained. But the real significance of the event can only be understood by the troopers who " were there." As I emerged from the quartermaster's office I was a sight to behold. Before I had fairly left the building my bundles broke loose and my military effects were scattered all around. By using the loose straps and sur cingle I managed to pack my outfit in one bundle. But it was a large one, just about all I could lift. When I got into the barracks I was very much dis couraged. What to do with the things was a puzzle to me. I distributed them in the bunk, and began to speculate on how I could ever put all those little straps and buckles together. The more I studied over it the more complicated it seemed. I would begin with the headstall of the bridle. Having been raised on a farm I had knowledge of double and single harness to some extent, but the bridles and halters that I had seen were not of the cavalry pattern. After I had buckled the straps together I would have several pieces left with no buckles to correspond. It was like the fifteen-puzzle. As I was manipulating the straps Taylor arrived with his outfit. He threw the bundle down in the lower bunk, and exclaimed : " I wish I'd staid to home." DOWN IN DIXIE. 43 " So do I, Giles." " Where's Theodore ? " " I haven't seen him since I left him at the quarter master's." " He got his things before I did and started for the barracks." Taylor left his bundle and went in search of Hom who was found near the cook-house. His pack had broken loose, and he was too much disgusted to go any further. Taylor assisted him, and they reached the bunk about the time Waterman arrived. We held a •council of war, and decided to defer action on the horse furniture till the next day. " We'll tog ourselves out in these soldier-clothes and let the harness alone till we're ordered to tackle it," said Taylor, and we all assented. " Attention ! " The orderly sergeant again appeared. " The recruits who have just drawn their uniforms will fall in outside for inspection with their uniforms on in ten minutes ! " There was no time for ceremony. Off went our liome clothes and we donned the regulation uniforms. Four sorrier-looking boys in blue could not have been found in Camp Meigs. And we were blue in more senses than one. My forage cap set down over my head and rested on my ears. The collar to my jacket came 44 DOWN IN DIXIE. up to the cap, and I only had a " peek hole " in front. The sleeves of the jacket were too long by nearly a foot, and the legs of the pantaloons were ditto. The Govern ment did not furnish suspenders, and as I had none I used some of the saddle straps to hold my clothes on. Taylor could not get his boots on, and Hom discovered that both of his boots were lefts. He got them on, how ever. When Waterman put on his overcoat it covered him from head to foot, the skirts dragging the floor. Before we had got on half our things the order came to "fall in outside," and out we went. Taylor had his Gov ernment boots in his hands, as a corporal had informed him that if he turned out with citizen's boots on after having received his uniform he would be tied up by the thumbs. So he turned out in his stocking feet. We were " right dressed " and " fronted " by the first sergeant, who reported to the captain that the squad was formed. The captain advanced and began with Taylor, who was the tallest of the squad, and therefore stood on the right. " Where are your boots ? " " Here," replied the frightened recruit, holding them out from under the cape of his great coat. " Fall out and put them on." " I can't." " Why not ? " " I wear nines and these are sevens." DOWN IN DIXIE. 45 " Corporal, take this man to the quartermaster's and have the boots changed." Taylor trotted off, pleased to get away from the offi cer, who next turned his attention to Hom. " What's the matter with your right foot ; are you left-handed in it ? " " No, sir ; they gave me both lefts." " Sergeant, send this man to the quartermaster's and have the mistake rectified." Waterman was next in line. " Who's inside this overcoat ? " demanded the captain. " It's me, sir — private Waterman." " Couldn't you get a smaller overcoat ? " " They said it would fit me, and I had no time to try it on. " Sergeant, have that man's coat changed at once. Fall out, private Waterman." Then came my turn. The captain looked me over. My make-up was too much for his risibility. " Where did you come from ? " he asked, after the first explosion. " Berlin." " Where's that ? " " York State." " Well, you go with the sergeant lo the quartermas ter and see if you can't find a rig that will come nearer fitting you than this outfit." 46 DOWN IN DIXIE. I was glad to obey orders, afid after the captain's compliments had been presented to the quartermaster, directions were given to supply me with a uniform that would fit. Although the order could not be literally complied with, I profited by the exchange, and the sec ond outfit was made to do after it had been altered somewhat by a tailor, and the sleeves of the jacket and the legs of the trousers had been shortened. The captain did not " jump on us " as we had ex pected. The self-styled old soldiers had warned us that we would be sent to the guard house. The captain had seen service at the front, and had been through the mill as a recruit when the First Battalion was organized. He knew that it was not the fault of the privates that their clothes did not fit them. This fact seemed to escape the attention of many commissioned officers, and not a few recruits were censured in the presence of their com rades by thoughtless captains, because the boys had not been built to fill out jackets and trousers that had been made by basting together pieces of cloth cut on the bias and every other style, but without any regard to shapes, sizes or patterns. CHAPTER in. Raw Recruits at the Rendezvous — A Friendly Sergeant — Helped Out of Trouble — Insignia of Rank — From Corporal to General — The Bill of Fare — Pass the Butter — A Serious Breach of Military Etiquette. DO not know whether Robert J. War ren, who served in Company I, Third Battalion, First Massachusetts cavalry, is living or not. I trust that he survives, and that he is prosperous. I shall never siiMvr* forget his kindness to me when I was a raw recruit at Camp Meigs. Warren was a sergeant, and had seen service at the front. I think he had also served in the regular dra goons on the frontier before the War of the Rebellion broke out. Bob, as he was familiarly known, was a soldier from heels up. As already stated, I was unable to put my saddle equipments together when they were issued to me. I was sitting on my bunk, completely dis couraged, when Sergeant Warren came along. 47 48 DOWN IN DIXIE. " What's the trouble here ? " " O, colonel! I can't put these things in shape — they won't fit at all." " I'm not a colonel." " Well, captain, then ? " " No." " Lieutenant ? " " No. I'm only a sergeant. You'll know these things after a little. Let me see what I can do for you. All these straps and buckles are necessary to complete your saddle kit." In less than five minutes the sergeant had " used up " that big pile of leather straps. And it was a revelation to Taylor, Hom, Waterman and myself. We stood and looked on as Warren buckled the equipments together and briefly explained the uses of the different pieces. We adopted a vote of thanks to the sergeant for his assistance. " I don't think we should have answered roll-call to morrow morning if you hadn't come to our help," said Taylor. "Why not?" " Because we were so downhearted we misht have run away." "I guess not," said the sergeant; "you boys are made of better stuff. Don't you know that the penalty of desertion is death ? " DOWN IN DIXIE. . 49 " Is it ? " " Yes. ' " We didn't know it before." A young man dressed in a brand-new uniform that fitted him to perfection came into the barracks. He had stripes on his arms and legs, and he strutted so proudly that I thought he must be the general. " Is that the commander-in-chief? " I asked Sergeant Warren. " O, no!" laughingly replied the sergeant. "He may feel bigger than the general, but he's only a cor poral. His name is Timothy Pelton." Sure enough, the new-comer was only a corporal. But he proved to be a splendid fellow upon closer ac quaintance. Tim left us, however, to accept a commis sion as lieutenant in the Fifth Massachusetts (colored) cavalry that was organized in 1863. He was residing in Troy in 1871. Later he studied law at Northampton, Mass., where he died. Sergeant Warren did me another good turn, after he had assisted me to become reconciled to my saddle kit. He explained to me the insignia of rank of commissioned and non-commissioned officers. In a few minutes he gave me more information on the subject than I could have obtained in a year's service had not some one taken the pains to personally enlighten me. The infor mation will be of use to the civilians of this day and 50 DOWN IN DIXIE. generation as it holds good now, and probably will re main the same for generations to come. By observing the directions given me by Sergeant Warren any one can tell at a glance the rank of officers of the regular army or national guard when meeting them in uniform. " Is a corporal higher'n a sergeant ? " I inquired after Pelton had gone by. " No ; a corporal's only one grade above a private. I will describe the insignia of rank so that you will have no difficulty in distinguishing any officer you may meet hereafter. " In the first place bear in mind that there are only eight grades, or eight classes of grades, rather. Promo tion in the army is like going up a pair of stairs. You are a private, and I suppose you will be surprised when I tell you that you have only eight steps to go up to be a general, but it's a fact. " The first step makes you a corporal. Now observe that a corporal wears chevrons on the sleeves of his jacket. The corporal has two bars on each sleeve. They are sewed on above the elbow, from the outer and inner seams of the sleeve, running obliquely down and toward the center, coming to a point and forming a V. " The color of the chevron will indicate the branch of service — yellow for cavalry, red for artillery, blue for infantry. "The next grade is that of sergeant — the rank I DOWN IN DIXIE. 51 hold. The chevrons are the same, except the sergeant wears three stripes or bars instead of two. " The first or orderly sergeant has a lozenge or dia mond in addition to the three stripes. Some call it a letter O, as O stands for orderly. " The quartermaster-sergeant wears three stripes and three bars across the top. " The sergeant-major's chevrons have three stripes above, forming an arc over the sergeant's stripes. " A hospital steward has a green half-chevron with a caduceus embroidered in yellow. " An ordnance sergeant has three stripes and a star in red. " The next in rank above the sergeant-major, who is the highest sergeant, is the second lieutenant. Com missioned officers wear shoulder-straps. The straps are alike in each branch of service, except the ornaments inside the border which indicate the rank of the officer. The second lieutenant has a plain shoulder-strap. " The first lieutenant's strap is the same as the junior lieutenant's except there is one gold or silver em broidered bar of the same width as the border near each end of. the strap. " The captain has two bars near each end of the strap. " The major wears a gold embroidered leaf at each end of the strap. 52 DOWN IN DIXIE. " The lieutenant-colonel has a silver embroidered leaf. " The colonel has a silver embroidered spread eagle in the center of the strap. " The brigadier-general's strap is the same as a colonel's, except a star in place of the eagle. " The major-general wears two stars. " The general in command of the army has three stars. " The ground work of the shoulder-strap indicates the branch of service — yellow for cavalry, red for artil lery and blue for infantry. " Officers of the medical department have the letters M. S. on their shoulder-strap ; officers of the pay depart ment the letters P. D. ; officers of the quartermaster's department Q. D., and officers of the commissary de partment C. D. " Now don't forget there are but eight steps ; in coming down they are general, colonel, lieutenant- colonel, major, captain, lieutenant, sergeant, corporal. Of course, if you go through the different promotions in each grade it takes a few more steps. But even were you to serve in every grade given in the army regula tions it would take only fifteen steps to make you a major-general." In March, 1864, a bill was passed by Congress re viving the rank of lieutenant-general, which was created DOWN IN DIXIE. 53 in 1798 for Washington, and had been abolished after the death of the Father of his Country. Winfield Scott was breveted lieutenant-general for services in the war with Mexico. Grant's commission as lieutenant-general was handed him by President Lincoln at the White House, March 9, 1864. The lieutenant-general wore three stars on each shoulder. In 1866 the rank of " general of the armies of the United States " was re vived by an act of Congress, and Grant was promoted to that rank. This title was also originally created for Washington, but had been abolished. The general wore four stars on each of his shoulder-straps. Sher man succeeded Grant as lieutenant-general of the army and also as general, March 4, 1869, upon the inaugura tion of the " Hero of Appomattox " as president. Sheri dan was made lieutenant-general at the same time, and upon Sherman's retirement Little Phil took command of the army. He was made general of the army while on his death bed. There was a good deal of kicking at Camp Meigs over the bill of fare. It seemed to be characteristic of recruits to growl about their rations. Had they known what was before them they would not have turned up their noses at boiled ham, potatoes, bread, vegetables, fresh meat, coffee, etc., that constituted the menu of the Bay State troops at the Readville rendezvous. Major-gen erals at the front saw many occasions when they would 54 DOWN IN DIXIE. have given a month's pay for a square meal such as recruits at Camp Meigs found fault with. We had plum duff now and then, and other extra fixings on state occasions. Milk and sugar were supplied for our coffee, and boys with delicate stomachs could have tea and toast if they desired it. And then there was the sutler's store, where the boys in blue who could not live on army grub could buy home-made bread and other extras sent to the camp daily from Boston. Yet the chronic growler was around. It was ob served — and it was so all through the army — that the recruits who had had the poorest fare at home were loudest in their protestations against the rations issued at the rendezvous. I noticed that Bob Warren and the soldiers who had been to the front seemed to relish their food. The non-commissioned officers dined at side-tables. Their rations were the same as the pri vates', but the cook showed, them favors. Sometimes they " chipped in " and purchased extras — butter, etc. Taylor had a way of speaking his mind and thinking aloud that occasioned him no little trouble. The first breakfast we had after reaching camp consisted of bread and beef and coffee. Taylor was near the table at which the sergeants and corporals were seated. He saw a dish of butter on their table, and as there was none handed out to him, he elbowed the ranking duty sergeant and exclaimed : DOWN IN DIXIE. 55 " Pass the butter ! " Old soldiers will understand what a ofrave act of im- propriety the Berlin recruit committed. Such a breach of military etiquette would have consigned the offender to the guard-house had Taylor been in uniform, but as he had not donned his suit of blue he was allowed to go with the admonition that if he ever again attempted such familiarity with a sergeant he would be bucked and gagged. CHAPTER IV. Taking the Stiffness Out of Recruits — The Awkward Squad ¦ Dismounted Drill — On Guard — The Sentinels Orders ¦ A New Hand s Experience on Post. .L-.J- ^ i. EELS on the same line, as near each other as the conformation of the man will permit." In the instruction of the recruit the drill sergeant or corporal, or whoever might have the squad in hand, always began with the heels — starting from the ground and building upward. This may have given rise to the ex pression, common in the days of the war, when speak ing of a comrade who had shown more than ordinary fitness for some position to which he had been pro moted, " He's a soldier from heels up." But one could not be a soldier in any other way — according to tactics. I have no means of knowing to whom the American soldiers are indebted for the concluding part of the 56 DOWN IN DIXIE. 57 sentence quoted at the opening of this chapter — " as near each other as the conformation of the man will permit." In the first volume of Hardee's tactics, which were in use when the war broke out, I find this explana tory clause referring to the latitude allowed in respect of the recruit having his " heels more or less closed " : " Because men who are knock-kneed, or have legs with large calves, cannot, without constraint, make their heels touch while standing." I want to say in all seriousness that if this explana tion and the proviso to which it refers had been omitted or overlooked when Hardee's tactics were re-issued under another name at the beginning of the war — Hardee having gone with the Confederates — there would have been bloodshed at the rendezvous where recruits were given their initiatory lessons in the school of the soldier. There were a few men in Company I who came under the class of knock-kneed, and one who could not make his heels touch while standing, constraint or no con straint. But no matter how much of a physical impos sibility it might have been for him to put his heels together on the same line, there was one drill sergeant at Camp Meigs who would have made him do it or die, I verily believe, if the tactics had said so. The attempts of the unfortunate recruit to make his heels touch were ludicrous in the extreme. After he had done his level 58 DOWN IN DIXIE. best, the sergeant would insist that the recruit could do better. " Now, bring them heels together ! " " I can't ! " " Silence in the ranks ! bring them heels together, I tell you ! Your conformation will permit them heels to come nearer together." And then the knock-kneed, bow-legged recruit, stim ulated to extraordinary exertion by the close proximity of the drill sergeant's saber, would go through the con tortion act again. , When the instructor finally got through, some of the stiffness had been taken out of the recruit's legs, but bow-legged he was when he en listed, and bow-legged he remained till he was mustered out ; so much so that large-sized cannon balls could have been fired between his legs without injury to his limbs, if the gunner had been a good marksman, and had aimed at some object in plain view through the opening. Take two capital K's, turn one bottom side up and put them together — KM — the inner lines give something of an idea, on a small scale, of the " gates ajar " opportunity the cannoneer would have had. Taylor was the tallest recruit in the squad, and he was placed on the right. It seemed to be impossible for the man in his rear, as the squad was marched by the right flank, to keep off Taylor's heels. I observed that Taylor was "getting hot in the collar," and I knew DOWN IN DIXIE. 59 there would be an outbreak. Finally the recruit barked the right guide's ankle, and Taylor " broke ranks " in a hurry. The high-stepper fled as Taylor rushed toward him, and took refuge behind the drill sergeant. " Halt, or I'll tierce-point you through the body ! " yelled the sergeant as Taylor advanced. " Don't you stick that cheese knife into me I " " Keep back, then ! " " Get out of the way and let me choke that fellow that walked on my legs." But the sergeant managed to keep the point of his saber on a line with the third button of Taylor's blouse, so that should the latter press forward he would be sabered in a very tender spot. A compromise was effected after some parleying. It was stipulated that another recruit should march ne.Kt to Taylor, and that after retreat the offender should meet Taylor over back of the stables to " have it out." As a result of the meeting, Taylor's antagonist answered sick call the next morning. We soon mastered the heel-and-toe movements, as one recruit designated the first lessons in squad drill. The position of the trooper dismounted was pretty well understood, theoretically and practically, by nearly all the boys before we had been in camp a week. There were a good many movements that I could not get at the philosophy of, but we came to understand that these 6o DOWN IN DIXIE. things had been prescribed for us, and, like a dose of bitter medicine, we must swallow them and make the best of it. Guard duty at Camp Meigs was a good deal of a farce in many respects. Yet there was no serious breach of discipline. There was a chain of sentinels reaching entirely around the camp. The post of honor — the boys called it the post of horror — was at the entrance to the camp, down near the station at the rail road. Here it was that the poor recruit was almost compelled to confess that life 'was not worth living. I think it was Post No. 2. No. i was at the guard house, and the posts were numbered in succession all the way around the camp. The orders at Post No. 2 were as follows, whispered by one sentinel to another: " This is Post No. 2 — take charge of this post and all Government property in view ; salute all officers according to rank ; in case of fire give the alarm ; allow no one to pass in or out without permission from proper authority ; challenge all persons approaching your post between retreat and reveille ; let none pass without the countersign ; repeat all calls from posts farther from the guard house," etc. The sentinels were instructed to call the corporal of the guard in case of disturbance or trouble of any kind. There were detachments of several infantry regiments at Camp Meigs, and there was no scarcity of officers. DOWN IN DIXIE. 6 1 The first time I was put on Post No. 2, it seemed to me that there was a procession of shoulder-straps marching by without let-up. If the sentinel stopped to read the passes in the hands of enlisted men as they poured out of camp during the day, he had no time to " salute all officers according to rank," as required by the orders. Anybody who came along holding up a piece of white paper was allowed to pass, for the reason that the sentinel was kept busy saluting officers. The regulations directed that "sentinels will present arms to general and field officers, to the officer of the day and to the commanding officer of the post. To all other officers they will carry arms." To the recruits it was a difficult task to distinguish a field officer from a line officer. But we soon discovered that it was safer to give the junior second lieutenant of a regiment a general's salute than it was to carry arms to a major who was entitled to a present. Human nature would crop out in the army the same as elsewhere. One of our boys was posted on No. 2 the first time he went on guard. He got all mixed up over his in structions, and was taken to task by several officers for not giving them the proper salute. But his intentions were all right. He wanted to show his loyalty. After making many dismal failures in determining the rank of officers who crossed his beat, he gave it up in despair. So he simply stood with his carbine in his hand, and as 62 DOWN IN DIXIE. an officer approached, the sentinel, with a significant nod of the head toward his carbine, would sing out: " Say, Mister, which'll you have, field or line salute? I'll give you whichever you say, but I'm a new hand, and I don't want to make a mistake." Most of the officers appreciated the " new hand's desire to do them justice, and the sentinel was not punished. CHAPTER V. The Grand Rounds — Getting Even with the Officer of the Day — Infantry Orders for Cavalrymen — The Colored Troops at Camp Meigs — War-time Love Letters — Why a New Hamp shire Boy s Sweetheart did not Write — Missing in the Wilder ness — A Soldier Boy's Elysium — Betrayed by a Bottle — A Woman in the Case. LTHOUGH Fort Independence and the other fortifications in Boston Har bor were strongly garrisoned, and equipped with heavy ordnance, and Camp Meigs was at so remote a point ^^^. _ from Dixie, it was impossible for the re cruit now and then, when receiving his instructions on post at night, to shake off the feeling that the rebels were prowling around the camp, ready to dash in and destroy us should any of the sentinels relax their vigi lance in the least degree. The sentinels at Camp Meigs were armed with old muskets, with here and there a saber, before the regulation 64 DOWN IN DIXIE. equipments had been issued to the recruits. There were not weapons enough to go around, so the sentinel on post would turn over his musket or saber to the sen tinel relieving him. This mixing up of the arms of two branches of the service frequently caused confusion in the mind of a recruit in respect of the good faith of the corporal in charge of the relief. I was on guard over toward the camp of the Fifth Massachusetts cavalry, across the railroad track, one night. When I went on post I relieved a man who was armed only with an old saber. He turned over the saber to me, as well as the instructions. After the sentinel had given me a long string of orders, the cor poral capped the climax by quoting for my benefit the following paragraphs from the revised regulations per taining to grand guards and other outposts : " A sentinel should always be ready to fire. A sen tinel must be sure of the presence of the enemy before he fires. Once satisfied of that, he must fire, though all defense on his part be useless, as the safety of the post may depend on it." It is not necessary to point out the inconsistency of such orders to a sentinel armed only with an old sword. During the night the grand rounds would be made by the officer of the day. The regulations prescribed that sentinels should challenge the rounds. It was about midnight when the grand rounds DOWN IN DIXIE. 65 advanced on my post. The moon was shining, so that I could distinguish the officer of the day, the sergeant and the privates in the escort, even when they left the guard house. They marched down upon me in regula tion order, slackening their pace as they drew near. I did not challenge the party, because, as I thought, it was all nonsense to call down any one that I knew. But when within a half-dozen paces of my post, the officer halted, and directed the escort to halt. " Why don't you challenge? " the officer demanded. " Because I don't want to fight." " Why don't you call out, ' Who comes there ? ' " " I know ' who comes there,' and what's the use of asking when I know who you are ? " " What are your orders ? " I repeated the instructions as near as I could recall them. I was relieved at once, as the officer of the day declared that a sentinel who would allow the grand rounds to walk up to his post without halting them oueht to be court-martialed and shot. I discovered that I had made a mistake, and I received a severe reprimand from the officer of the day in the presence of the guard. The sergeant of the guard interceded and saved me from more condign punishment. The officer said: " I will let you off this time, you pumpkin head, as you are inexperienced. But never again allow any per- 66 DOWN IN DIXIE. son to approach your post without challenging and carrying out your orders to the very letter. No one but a 'pumpkin head ' would do such a thing." Several months later our battalion joined the regi ment in winter quarters at Warrenton, Va. The officer who had called me a " pumpkin head " at Camp Meigs was field officer of the day soon after we reached War renton, and I was on picket. My post was on the edge of a marshy strip of land through which ran a cow-path. Several days' rain had caused the water to cover the ground, and the path was submerged. The orders were to challenge all persons approaching the pickets, day or night, and the Camp Meigs instructions were enlarged, as will be seen by what followed the visit of the field officer of the day to my post. He had inspected the pickets to my right, and was riding the line toward the left. He kept a little too far outside the line as he came down toward me, and when he arrived within challeng ing distance, he was about midway the marsh. " Who comes there ? " " Officer of the day." " Halt, officer of the day. Dismount, hold up your hands, advance and give the countersign." The officer threw back the cape of his overcoat, displaying his sash. " It's all right — you know who I am. It isn't necessary for me to dismount in this water. It's over my boot tops in places." GETTING EVEN WITH THE OFKICER OF THE DAY. DOWN IN DIXIE. 69 " Dismount, hold up your hands, advance and give the countersion." " But the water " — " Dismount, hold up your hands, advance and give the countersign." As he got down into the mud and water, the officer muttered something to himself that sounded like " dough- head." He violated the third article of the war several times before he reached terra Jirma. • After he had advanced and given the countersign, we exchanged compliments something like this : Officer — " You knew who I was. What made you dismount me in that mud hole ? " Picket — " You know what my orders are. Captain." Officer — " But you are supposed to take orders from the officer of the day." Picket — "But I am not supposed to recognize the officer of the day until he has given the countersign. No one but a ' pumpkin-head ' would do such a thing." The officer took a good look at me, and seemed to grasp the situation. " I have seen you before ? " " Yes, sir; on post at Camp Meigs." He rode on to inspect the next vidette. The Fifth Massachusetts cavalry, a colored regi ment, was in camp just across the railroad track from our quarters. 7C DOWN IN DIXIE. It was an interesting and novel sight to see the colored cavalrymen on dress parade. White collars were not allowed to be worn in the Fifth, so the only re lieving features of the darkness were the white gloves and the whites of the eyes of the troopers. How proud they were, and how straight they stood, with heads erect — perfect machines, so to speak ! And when the command, " Right dress ! " was given, and that long line of colored men turned their eyes to the right as one man, it was like a flash of lightning darting horizon tally across an inky sky. The second week after our arrival at Camp Meigs, Waterman and I were detailed to extra duty, he to carry the mail between Camp Meigs and Boston, and I to act as letter-carrier between the rendezvous and Dedham, a village only a few miles from Readville, on a branch road. The mail for Dedham was gathered by orderlies from the camp, and left at department headquarters down at the railroad station. I received it at head quarters and carried it to Dedham on the cars. The mail that I brought back from the village post-office was sorted at headquarters, letters for each company being made up in separate packages, which I delivered throughout the camp. The mail-carrier was the most popular man in camp. Old soldiers will recall how they watched for and DOWN IN DIXIE. 71 welcomed the mail-carrier, and how their hearts would leap for joy when the first sergeant would call out their names in reading the addresses on the letters. And how a letter from home would stir the heart of the soldier boy ! Father's kindly admonitions, mother's prayerful, blessed messages, sister's loving, cheerful let ters — with all the news for her "hero brother" — and then the tender missives from some other fellow's sister, breathing the prayer that the rebellion might soon be put down and the boys in blue might come marching home. Letters from our sweethearts always contained a verse or two of some ballad or war song expressive of the dear girls' undying love, and urging us to prove true — to them and to the flag of the Union. Here is a sample : " Dearest love, do you remember, When we last did meet, How you told me that you loved me, Kneeling at my feet ? Oh ! how proud you stood before me, In your suit of blue, When you vowed to me and country Ever to be true. Chorus : " Weeping, sad and lonely, Hopes and fears, how vain ; Yet praying When this cruel war is over, Praying that we meet .igain." Of course the answer to every one received was freighted with pledges of unswerving devotion and loy- 72 DOWN IN DIXIE. alty, and something like the following was very apt to close the letter : " Heart-broken since I left you, dear — May the heavens above me guide me, And send me safe back home again. To the girl I left behind me." In one of the companies of the First Massachusetts cavalry, there was a recruit who could neither read nor write. He was from somewhere up in the mountains of New Hampshire. He had drifted down to Boston and enlisted. He was always looking for a letter, but the days and weeks rolled on without bringing him any news from home. " Anything for me. Sergeant ? " he would ask every time the mail was distributed. " Nothing for you this time, Joe." "Well, it'll come next mail, sure." " I hope so, Joe." We all hoped so, for it was evident that Joe's heart would break if somebody up in the wilds of the Granite State did not come to the rescue, and that right speedily. One day Joe said to me : " Will you write a letter to my girl ? " " Certainly, Joe." I took him over to the barracks of Company I, and wrote the following at his dictation : DOWN IN DIXIE. 73 [Union Forever!] j' Camp Meigs, Dec. 15, 1863. ) My Own Sweet Mary: I've waited till my heart bleeds, and there's no letter from you. All the other boys get letters from their true loves, but poor Joe he's left out in the cold. I can't believe you've so soon forgotten me. Don't you remember the apple paring at Jeff Taylor's, and I saw you home ? You said you couldn't be the sweetheart of any stay-at-home when the flag was in danger, and I said, " Mary, I'll go if you'll promise to be mine when I come back." And you promised ; yes, you did, Mary. \ow, what am I to think of you ? Who is the scoundrel that's come between me and you? I can lick him out of his boots. What's the matter with Mary? If you have anything to say to one you've treated in this way, write to your own Poor Joe. Down with traitors ! Union forever 1 P. S. " The rose is red, The violet's blue, ' But thoroughbred's My love for you.' " J. " That ought to fetch her," said Joe. It did " fetch her." I addressed the letter as directed by Joe. The return mail brought Mary's answer, which explained why her soldier lover had been so long kept in ignorance of what was going on at home. It read something after this fashion : Stratford, N. H., Dec. 17, 1863. My Darling Long-lost Joe: How could you treat your own dear Mary so ? I have been dying to hear from you. I was afraid you had gone straight on to Richmond and got into Libby Prison. You seem to overlook the fact that you never sent me a line telling me where you were or in what regiment, or company, or anything else. I didn't know where to direct to you. But I suppose you were too busy preparing to fight the rebels to think of that. Yes, Joe, I remember my promise, and I'll keep it. You are my own precious soldier boy. Nobody has come between us — how could you dream of such a thing? So you've got nobody to lick but the rebels. All your folks are well, but they worried themselves nearly to death about you. Don't do so any more. Nobody around here had any idea where you were, and some of the gossips started the story, just to spite me, I believe, that you had run away to 74 DOWN IN DIXIE. Canada to get out of the draft. Wasn't it mean, and you doing your duty in the army at the same time ? If you had told me where you were I would have written every day. That's what's the matter with Mary. P. S. " My pen is poor. My ink is pale, My love for you Will never fail." M. "Kick me — kick me hard, so hard I can't set in my saddle for a month," exclaimed Joe. " Here I've been blaming that dear girl, and it's all my fault. I believe I'm an idiot. Of course she couldn't write till I let her know where I was." Joe picked up wonderfully after that, and I had my hands full writing his letters to Mary, and reading hers to him. They kept up the correspondence till the open ing of the campaign of 1864; the last letter came the day we left Warrenton, Va., for the Wilderness. There was no time to answer it then. It never was answered at Joe's dictation. " Missing in the Wilderness " was written opposite his name on the first company muster- roll made out after that battle. It was believed he was killed, as nothing was ever heard of him again. When we reached the James River on Sheridan's raid, and had a breathing spell, I wrote to Joe's Mary and informed her of the poor boy's probable fate. There was a hope that he had been taken prisoner and that he would be exchanged, and all that. But he never was seen again by his comrades, and a letter from KCl. J JOE DICTATES HIS LETTER TO MARY. DOWN IN DIXIE. ']'] Mary to me, written just before we were mustered out at the close of the war, stated that she had abandoned all hope of ever seeing her darling Joe again. She had written to me occasionally, begging me to make every possible effort to find out something definite about Joe. I did my best in complying with her request, but I was satisfied that Mary's soldier lover filled an unknown grave — with thousands of other noble young men — in the Wilderness. In making my daily trip to Dedham with the mail, I had about an hour to wait in the village for the return train. Patriotism was at fever heat, and the good people made my stay among them pleasant. Nothing was too good for a soldier at that time. Mothers, sisters and sweethearts of some of the boys in blue at Camp Meigs resided at Dedham. They made me their special messenger to carry knickknacks to the boys, and I was also the bearer of tender expressions of affection to their loved ones. Such of these as were written or verbal I sacredly delivered. But when blooming young ladies intrusted me with a genuine New England kiss to deliver to their sweethearts, I could not be expected to work both ways, so to speak. The osculation was perfect at the Dedham end of the line, but (telephoni- cally speaking) the transmitter failed to work at the point of delivery. When it is stated that I invariably reported to the lasses who sent kisses by. me that the 78 DOWN IN DIXIE. soldier boys had returned the compliment fourfold, it will be understood that my time did not hang heavy on my hands in that charming village. That special de livery business is among the pleasantest recollections of my military experience. But something happened one day that caused me to be relieved from extra duty. There was a woman in the case, of course. As I was going from the post-office in Dedham to the depot, a woman for whom I had car ried several packages to her son in Camp Meigs handed me a bottle wrapped in paper, saying: " Please take that to Jamesy." "What is it?" " It's a bit of cough medicine. Me poor boy has caught his death a cold sleeping with no feather bed, and he can't get the medicine he needs in camp, at all, at all. Sure, Jamesy will die if he don't get the medicine." " All right ; I'll see that he gets it." I put the bottle in the 'mail bag. When I reached headquarters at Readville and went into the office, sev eral officers were there discussing the question of intoxication among soldiers. " I can't understand how they manage to smuggle the liquor into camp," said the general in command. " One of the recruits put in the guard house last night for being drunk and making a disturbance in the \i'Wh if ' ?m . 'IT IS GIN, SIR," SAID THE ORDERLY. DOWN IN DIXIE. Sl barracks after taps, stated that his whiskey came by mail," said the officer of the day from Camp Meigs, who had been summoned to headquarters to confer with the department commander on the liquor question. " But they can't send bottles through the mail." Then the officer of the day, noticing my mail bag, • exclaimed : " Maybe the mail-carriers know something about it." " I'll vouch for this one," said the acting assistant adjutant-general. "He's as- straight as a string. The general has some doubts about Waterman, but this lad's all right." Turning to me, the A. A. A. G. directed me to empty my mail bag on the table, as was the custom. The bottle was the most conspicuous thing among the contents. The officers cast significant glances at one another. " Aha ! " exclaimed the officer of the day. " How's this ? " demanded the A. A. A. G. " I thought you could vouch for this letter-carrier," said the department commander. " What's in this bottle ? " thundered the A. A. A. G., : frowning upon me. " Cough medicine, sir." " Who's it for ? " "Jamesy O'Donnell." " Who gave it to you ? " 82 DOWN IN DIXIE. " His mother." " Where ? " " At Dedham." The A. A. A. G. shouted to an orderly to bring a corkscrew — a rather strange piece of furniture to have at a temperance station, it seemed to me — and he pulled the cork out of the bottle. But it was evident that the A. A. A. G. did not wish to be recognized as a sampler, so he handed the bottle to the headquarters' orderly, a rollicking Irishman. " What is it ? " asked the general. The orderly held the bottle up to the light, and said : " It looks like gin, sir." He put it to his nose, and continued : " It smells like gin, sir." Then the bottle went to his lips, and after a long swig the orderly said : " It tastes like gin, sir." Another long swig and the expert added : " And it is gin, sir." " It's a contraband article, and we'll confiscate it," said the A. A. A. G. as he rescued the bottle from the orderly. The officer of the day smacked his lips, prematurely, however, as the A. A. A. G. carried the bottle into his private office with the remark that he would hold it as " evidence asfainst the smuafgler." DOWN IN DIXIE. 83 At first the officers would listen to nothing but a general court-martial for me, but I protested my inno cence so strenuously that they finally concluded to give me the " benefit of a doubt," as the officer of the day suggested. I was relieved at once from duty as mail- carrier and sent to report to my company commander. CHAPTER VL The Buglers' Drill — Getting Used to the Calls — No Ear for Music — A Visitor from Home — A Basket full of Goodies — Taking Tintypes — A Special Artist at the Battle of Bull Run — Horses for the Troopers — ¦ Reviewed by a War Governor — Leaving Camp Meigs — A Mother s Prayers — The Eman cipation Proclamation — Lincoln's Vow — The War Gover nors' Address. HOULD there be living to-day a sur vivor of Sheridan's Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac who can, without shuddering, recall the buglers' drill, his probationary period on earth must be rapidly drawing to a close. I do not mean the regular bugle calls of camp or those sounded on company or battalion parade. I refer to the babel of bugle blasts kept up by the recruit " musicians " from the sounding of the first call for reveille till taps. A majority of the boys enlisted as buo-lers could not at first make a noise — not even a lit- 84 DOWN IN DIXIE. 85 fie toot — on their instruments, but when, under the instruction of a veteran bugler, they had mastered the cirt of filling their horns and producing sound they made up for lost time with a vengeance. And what a ¦chorus I Reveille, stable call, breakfast call, sick call, -drill call retreat, tattoo, taps — all the calls, or what the little fellows could do at them, were sounded at one time with agonizing effect. The first sergeant of Company I said to me one day while we were in Camp Meigs : " The adjutant wants more buglers, and he spoke of jou as being one of the light weights suitable for the job. You may go and report to the adjutant." " I didn't enlist to be a bugler ; I'm a full-fledged isoldier." " But you're young enough to bugle." " I'm twenty-one on the muster-roll. I want to serve in the ranks." " Can't help it ; you'll have to try your hand." I reported to the adjutant as directed, and was sent with a half-dozen other recruits to be tested by the chief trumpeter. After a trial of ten minutes the in structor discovered that there was no promise of my de velopment into a bugler, and he said with considerable •emphasis : " You go back mit you to de adjutant and tell him -dot you no got one ear for de music." 86 DOWN IN DIXIE. I was glad to report back to the company, for I pre ferred to serve as a private. The recruits soon became familiar with the sound of the bugle. The first call in the morning was buglers' call — or first call for reveille. The notes would be sounding in the barracks when the first sergeant, all the duty sergeants and the corporals would yell out : " Turn out for reveille roll-call ! " " Be lively, now — turn out ! " As a result of this shouting by the " non-coms " the boys soon began to pay no attention to the bugle call, but naturally waited till they heard the signal to " turn out " given by the sergeants and corporals. And in a very short time they ceased to hear the bugle when the first call was sounded. In active service in the Army of the Potomac so familiar with the calls did the soldiers become that when cavalry and infantry were bivouacked together, and the long roll was sounded by the drummers, it would not be heard by the troopers, and when the cavalry buglers blew their calls the foot soldiers would sleep undisturbed. In front of Petersburg troops would sleep soundly within ten feet of a heavy battery that was firing shot and shell into the enemy's works all night. But let one of the guards on the line of breastworks behind which they were " dreaming of home " discharge his musket, and the sleepers would be in line ready for battle almost DOWN IN DIXIE. 87 in the twinkling of an eye. And let the cavalry trum peter make the least noise on his bugle, and the troop ers would hear it at once. A few weeks before our battalion left Camp Meigs for the front Mrs. E. L. Waterman ci Berlin, mother of Irving Waterman, paid us a visit. She brought with her a basket full of goodies. Home-made pies, bread, butter, cheese, cookies and fried cakes were included in the supplies. She took up her quarters at the picture gallery of Mr. Holmes, the camp photographer, and we went to see her as often as our duties would permit. She brought us socks knit by our friends at home, and many articles for our comfort. About the first thing she said was : " My boys, what do they give you to eat ? " " Bread and meat and beans and coffee," we an swered. " No butter ? " " No." " I thought not. I had heard the soldiers had to eat their bread without butter, with nothing but coffee to wash it down, so I brought you a few pounds of butter." And the dear woman remained at the gallery, and Irving and I would drop over and eat the good things she fixed for us. If we had taken our commissary stores to the barracks they would have been stolen. Mrs. Waterman asked Irving and myself to have our 65 DOWN IN DIXIE. pictures taken. Neither of us had ever been photo graphed or tintyped, but we took kindly to the idea. We sat together, and the picture, a tintype, was pro nounced an excellent likeness. What a trying perform ance it was, though ! We were all braced up with an iron rest back of the head, and told to " look about there — you can wink, but don't move." Of course the tintype presented the subject as one appears when look ing into a mirror. The right hand was the left, and our buttons were on the wrong side in the picture. But Mrs. Waterman declared the tintype to be " as near like them as two peas," and we accepted her verdict. The dear old lady has kept that picture all these years. The soldier boys resorted to all sorts of expedients to " beat the machine." That is, to so arrange their arms and accoutrements that when the tintype was taken it would not be upside down or wrong end to. To this end the saber-belt would be put on wrong side up so that the scabbard would hang on the right side — that would bring it on the left side, where it belonged in the picture. I tried that plan one day and then stood at "parade rest," with the saber in front of me. I put back my left foot instead of my right to stand in that position, and when the picture was presented, I con gratulated myself that I had made a big hit. But when I showed it to an old soldier in the company he humiliated me by the remark : DOWN IN DIXIE. 89 " It's all very fine for a recruit, but a soldier wouldn't hold his saber with his left hand and put his right hand over it at parade rest." Sure enough. I had changed my feet to make them appear all right, but had forgotten the hands. But re cruits were not supposed to know everything on the start. We had photographs taken as well as tintypes. But the art of photography has greatly improved since the war. Most of the photographs of that day that I have seen of late are badly faded, and it is next to impossible to have a good copy made. Not so with the tintypes. They remain unfaded, and excellent photographic copies can be secured. In many a home to-day hang the pict ures of the soldier boy, some of them life-sized portraits copied from the tintypes taken in the days of the war. I know homes where the gray-haired mothers still cling to the little tintype picture — the only likeness they have of a darling boy who was offered as a sacrifice for liberty. How tenderly the picture is handled ! How sacredly the mother has preserved it ! The hinges of the frame are broken — worn out with constant open ing. The clasp is gone. The plush that lined the frame opposite the picture is faded and worn. But the face of the boy is there. Surviving veterans understand something of the venerable lady's meaning when she puts the picture to her lips and with tears in her eyes says : 90 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Yes, he was only a boy. I couldn't consent to let him go, and I couldn't say no. I could only pray that he would come back to me — if it were God's will. He didn't come back. But they said he did his duty. He died in a noble cause, but it was hard to say ' Thy will be done,' at first, when the news came that he'd been killed. I'm so thankful I have his picture — the only one he ever had taken. He was a Christian boy, and they wrote me that his last words as his comrades stood about him under a tree where he had been borne, were, that he died in the hope of a glorious resurrection, and that mother would find him in Heaven to welcome her when she came. There's comfort in that. And I'll soon be there. I shall meet my boy again, and there will be no more separation. No more cruel rebellions." The early war-time pictures are curiosities to-day, particularly to veterans who study them. Not a few of the special artists of the first year of the war seemed to have gained whatever knowledge of the appearance of troops in battle array that they had from tintype pict ures. I have before me as I write, a battle scene " sketched by our special artist at the front." The offi cers all wear their swords on the right side, and in the foreground is an officer mounting his horse from the off side — a feat never attempted in military experience but once, to my knowledge, and then by a militia officer on the staff of a Troy general, since the war. In some of DOWN IN DIXIE. 91 these pictorial papers of the early war-days armies are represented marching into battle in full-dress uniform and with unbroken step and perfect alignment. One thing, however, always puzzled me in these pict ures — before I went to war — and that was how the infantry could march with measured tread — regulation step of twenty-eight inches, and only one hundred and ten steps per minute — and keep up with the major- generals and other officers of high rank who appeared in front of their men, and with their horses on a dead run in the direction of the enemy ! These heroic leaders always rode with their hats in one hand and their swords in the other, so there was no chance for them to hold in their horses. But the puzzle ceased to be a puzzle when I reached the front. I found that the special artists had drawn on their imagination instead of " on the spot," and that it was not customary for commanding generals to get in between the contending lines of battle and slash right and left and cut up as the artists had repre sented. In the majority of cases, great battles were fought by generals on both sides who were in position to watch, so far as possible, the whole line of battle, and to be ready to direct such movements and changes as were demanded by the progress of the fight. To do this they must necessarily be elsewhere than in front of their armies, riding down the enemy's skirmishers, and leaping their horses over cannon. 92 DOWN IN DIXIE. It is possible, however, that the special artists did not fully understand the danger to which a command ing general would be exposed, galloping around on his- charger between the armies just coming together in a terrible clash. At any rate, the specials were willing tO' take their chances with their heroes — on paper. I have in my possession a picture of the " Commence ment of the Action at Bull Run — Sherman's Battery Engaging the Enemy's Masked Battery." In this picture, sketched by an artist whose later productions were among the best illustrations of actual warfare, the officers are, very considerately, placed in rear of the battery. But in front of the line of battle, in advance of the cannon that are belching forth their deadly fire, stands the special artist, sketching "on the spot." There was a good deal of stir in Camp Meigs the day that horses were issued to the battalion. The men were new, and so were the horses. It did not take a veteran cavalryman but a day or two to break in a new horse. But it was different with recruits. The chances were that their steeds would break them in. I had had some experience with horses on a farm — riding to cultivate corn, rake hay and the like — but I had never struggled for the mastery with a fiery, un tamed war-horse. Our steeds were in good condition when they arrived at the camp, and they did not get exercise enough after they came to take any of the life DOWN IN DIXIE. 93 out of them. The first time we practiced on them with curry-comb and brush, the horses kicked us around the stables ad libitum. One recruit had all his front teeth knocked out. But we became better acquainted with our chargers day by day, and although we started for Washington a few days after our horses had been issued, some of us attained to a confidence of our ability to manage the animals that was remarkable, considering the fact that we were thrown twice out of three times whenever we attempted to ride. One day orders came for us to get ready to go to the front. None but old soldiers can appreciate the feelings of recruits under such circumstances. All was bustle and confusion. There was a good deal of the hip, hip, hip, hurrah ! on the surface, but there was also a feeling of dread uncertainty — perhaps that expresses it — in the breasts of many of the troopers. They would not admit it, though. The average recruit was as brave as a lion to all outward appearances, and if he did have palpitation of the heart when orders came to go "On to Richmond" — as any advance toward the front was designated — the fact was not given out for publication. The first thing in order was a general inspection to satisfy the officers, whose duty it was to see that regi ments sent out from the Old Bay State were properly armed and equipped, that we were in a condition to 94 DOWN IN DIXIE. begin active service. After all our belongings were packed on our saddles in the barracks, before we took them over to the stables to saddle up, the department commander with his inspecting offi cers examined our kits. As originally packed, the sad dles of a majority of the troopers were loaded so heavily that it would have r e - quired four men to a saddle to get one of the packs on the -horse's back. When the inspection was completed, each trooper could han dle his own saddle. The following articles were thrown out of my collection by the inspectors : — Two boiled shirts ; one pair calfskin shoes ; two boxes paper collars ; one vest; one big neck scarf; one rt.tfet IN THE SADDLE. DOWN IN DIXIE. 95 bed quilt ; one feather pillow ; one soft felt hat ; one tin wash basin ; one cap — not regulation pattern ; one camp stool — folding; one blacking brush — extra; two cans preserves ; one bottle cologne ; one pair slippers ; one pair buckskin mittens ; three fancy neckties ; one pair saddle-bags — extra ; one tin pan ; one bottle hair oil ; one looking-glass ; one checker-board ; one haversack — extra — filled with home victuals ; one peck bag walnuts ; one hammer. Some of the boys had packed up more extras than I had, and it went against the grain to part with them. But the inspectors knew their business — and ours, too, better than we, as we subsequently discovered — and we were made to understand that we were not going on a pleasure excursion. It is hardly necessary to say that there was scarcely an article thrown out by the inspec tors that the soldiers would not have thrown away themselves on their first expedition into the enemy's country. After we had been inspected and trimmed down by the officers, we were reviewed by Governor John A. Andrew. He was attended by his staff, the department commander and other officers. Each company was drawn up in line in its barracks — it was sleeting outside. As the governor came into our quarters, the captain gave the command, "Uncover!" and the company stood at attention as the chief executive of the Old Bay State 96 DOWN IN DIXIE. walked slowly down the line, scanning the faces of the men. I remember that the governor looked at me with a sort of " Where-did-you-come-from, Bub ? " expression, and I began to fear that my time had come to go home. The o-overnor said to a staff officer : " Some of the men seem rather young. Colonel ! " "Yes, sir; the cavalry uniform makes a man look younger than he is." " I see. They are a fine body of men, and I have no doubt we shall hear of their doing good service at the front." A few words of encouragement were spoken by the governor, and he passed on to the barracks of the next company. It strikes me that Governor Andrew reviewed us again as we were marching from the barracks to the railroad station, but I am not clear on this point. I know there was a good deal of martial music, waving of flags, cheering and speech-making by somebody. Our horses claimed our undivided attention till after we had dismounted and put them aboard the cars. On the way down to the railroad an attempt was made somewhere near the barracks to form in line, so that we could be addressed by the governor or some other dignitary. It was a dismal failure. Our steeds seemed to be inspired by " Hail to the Chief," " The Girl I Left Behind Me," DOWN IN DIXIE. 97 and other patriotic tunes played by the band, and they pranced around, stood upon their hind legs and pawed the air with their fore feet, to the great terror of the re cruits and the delight of all the boys in the neighbor hood who had gathered to witness our departure. How the boys shouted ! " Hi, Johnny, it's better'n a circus !." "Guess 'tis — they don't fall off in a circus; they just make b'lief." " Well, these fellows stick tight for new hands." It was fun for the boys — the spectators — but just where the laugh came in the recruits failed to discover. I was told that the governor — or somebody — gave us his blessing as we rode by the reviewing officer, but I have no personal knowledge on the subject. After we had put our horses on board we waited a few minutes before entering the cars while the other companies were boarding the train. There was a chain of sentinels around us, and Mrs. Waterman was outside the line. She caught sight of us as we stood there, and she advanced toward us. "Halt — you can't go through here!" commanded one of the sentinels. " I must go through." " But my orders " — " I don't care; my boys are there, and I'm going to speak to them again." 90 DOWN IN DIXIE. She came through and gave us her parting blessing once more. " Boys, I'll pray God to keep you and bring you both back to your mothers — God bless you; good-by." The mother's prayers were answered. Her son and his tentmate were spared to return at the close of the war. There was a scramble to secure seats when orders were given to board the cars. Good-bys were said. Mothers, wives and sweethearts were there, and with many it was the last farewell. The whistle blew, the bells rang, the band played, the troops remaining at Camp Meigs cheered and we cheered back. The train moved away from the station, and we were off for the front. I never saw Governor Andrew again, but I recall his appearance as he reviewed our company in the bar racks very distinctly. I observed that while inspecting officers paid more attention to the arms and accoutre ments of the men the governor was particular in look ing into the faces of the recruits, to satisfy himself, no doubt, that they could be trusted to uphold the honor of the State when the tug of war should come. John A. Andrew was one of the " war governors " whose loyal sup port of President Lincoln's emancipation programme DOWN IN DIXIE. 99 The proclamation was promulgated September 22, 1862, a few days after the battle of Antietam. It is on record that Lincoln had made the draft of the document 'HALT — YOU can't GO THROUGH HERE!' in July, and had held it, waiting for a Union victory, that he might give it to the country at the same time that a decisive defeat of the rebels was announced. The second battle of Bull Run came, and Pope's shat tered army retreated into the works around the national IOC DOWN IN DIXIE. capital. Lee, with his victorious followers, crossed the Potomac into Maryland. The Confederate chief hoped to rally the disloyal element in that State and along the border under the rebel flag. It began to look as though the victory Lincoln was waiting for would never come. It was one of the darkest hours of the conflict. What would have been the effect of issuing the Emancipation Proclamation at that time ? The rebels had invaded the North! The Union army had been defeated — everything seemed to be going to destruction ! Lincoln is credited with saying in respect of the rebels crossing the Potomac just before the battle of Antietam : " I made a solemn vow before God, that if General Lee were driven back from Maryland, I would crown the result by a declaration of freedom to the slaves." September 24, 1862, two days after the proclamation was issued, Governor Andrew, with the governors of other loyal States, at a meeting at Altoona, Penn., adopted an address to the President that must have set at rest any doubts the chief magistrate may have had that his policy was the policy of the loyal people of the North. The document was inspired and executed by patriots in whom the citizens of the loyal States reposed unbounded confidence. They declared: " We hail with heartfelt gratitude and encouraged hope the proclamation of the President, issued on the DOWN IN DIXIE. lOI 22d inst, declaring emancipated from their bondage all persons held to service or labor as slaves in rebel States where rebellion shall last until the first day of January ensuing. " Cordially tendering to the President our respectful assurances of personal and official confidence, we trust and believe that the policy now inaugurated will be crowned with success, will give speedy and triumphant victories over our enemies, and secure to this nation and this people the blessing and favor of Almighty God. We believe that the blood of the heroes who have already fallen and those who may yet give up their lives to their country will not have been shed in vain. " And now presenting to our chief magistrate this conclusion of our deliberations, we devote ourselves to our country's service, and we will surround the President in our constant support, trusting that the fidelity and zeal of the loyal States and people will always assure him that he will be constantly maintained in pursuing with vigor this war for the preservation of the national life and hopes of humanity." CHAPTER VIL Leaving the Old Bay State — Soldiers and Civilians — Patriotic Greetings along the Route — A Night on Long Island Sound — The Cooper Shop at Philadelphia — Feasted in the Quaker City — Soldier Life at Camp Stoneman — A Friendly Game of Draw — Poker Pirates and Army Gamblers. T was a long train that conveyed our bat talion from Readville. Our horses were placed in box cars. The troopers were packed into the passenger coaches, three deep. The skirmishing for position as sisted in drying the tears of those who were nearly heartbroken over parting with " the girl I left behind me " and mother dear. In this connection it may be remarked, that during the last two years of the war, some railroad and other corporations engaged in the transportation business — and which were getting rich from the proceeds of Gov ernment contracts — came to look upon the soldiers as so many common cattle. It was not the fault of the DOWN IN DIXIE. 103 Government. Money enough was paid for transporting men and material to have provided the best accommo dation for the boys in blue. But it was pleaded by the railroad and steamboat officials that the capacity of their lines was totally inadequate to meet the demands of travel. " A soldier is a citizen, but a citizen is not a soldier," was a common saying during the war. Politicians in making stump speeches delighted to assert the fact. While the sentiment was all right, theoretically, it " didn't work," as the boys found when they attempted to put it into practice, and presumed upon their rights as citizens while clad in the faded coat of blue. On our way to Washington, one of our boys, very tired, and anxious to find a place to sit down, attempted to go into a passenger coach next forward of the first car that was set apart for the soldiers. There were three or four officers, and about a dozen men in citizen's dress in the car. As the soldier reached the rear plat form of the coach and opened the door, he was met by a broad-shouldered train hand, who said : " This car is reserved for citizens." " A soldier is a citizen," exclaimed the trooper. " Not on this railroad," asserted the brakeman. " But every seat in the other cars is full, and there isn't standing room. There are plenty of vacant seats in this car. I'm tired, and I want to sit down." 104 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Can't help it — orders are orders. This car is reserved for citizens." "But there are officers in the car — they are soldiers." " Yes, an officer is a soldier, but a soldier is not an officer. That's what we are given to understand by our superiors. You're only a soldier, and you can't come in." But the rough treatment of the soldiers was not so noticeable in the New England States. It cropped out more on the railroads in the States bordering on Mason and Dixon's line — the very States that had the more reason to be thankful to those who fought to beat back the rebel columns. Sometimes the boys retaliated and settled old scores — scores which cost the railroad com panies something when they came to pay for damages to rolling stock. Still, they put up with a great many impositions without complaining. There was truth in the statement that the railroads were unable at times to carry all the soldiers en route without packing them like sardines in a box. The boys never " kicked " when the exigencies of the occasion demanded such a huddlins together. It was only when they were refused privi leges accorded to citizens, and which could have been extended to the soldiers without trespassing upon any body's rights, that the " citizens " in blue emphasized their protest. As our train rolled along through the beautiful New DOWN IN DIXIE. 105 England villages, we were given to understand that the patriotism of the ladies was unbounded. At the doors and windows of nearly every house along the line, fair damsels waved the stars and stripes. At every stoppinf place a battalion of young ladies boarded our train with refreshments. It was a prevailing belief among the female patriots at the North during the great rebellion that soldiers were always hungry — half-starved, and ready to eat at all hours of the day and night. It was a good thing for the soldiers. The young ladies gave us home-made bread and boiled ham, doughnuts and cheese, pumpkin pies and apples — lots and lots of home grub. And they blessed us, and said they would pray for us. Then they stuffed our haversacks with cookies and cakes, bade us God speed — music by the band, cheers, waving of tiny flags, and before the echoes of the sweet chorus of female voices sing-ine " Hail. Columbia," or some other inspiring song, had fairly died out, we would be greeted by the cheers of the assembled residents of another village. It was grand — glorious. It was this sort of thing that nerved the untried recruits for the hardships of active service. We left the cars at New London, Conn. When we began to comprehend the situation, and found that we were to go down to sea in a ship, some of us began to wish that we had been ordered to march to Washington. Said Taylor : 106 DOWN IN DIXIE. " I didn't enlist to go to sea. The boat'll go down if we put our horses on board. We can't afford to lose our horses." " I'd be willing to lose my horse if they'd let me go by rail," said another trooper. " Fall in, Company I ; this way to go aboard," com manded our first sergeant. It was dark when we steamed out into Long Island Sound. The water was rough, and there was much seasickness. I escaped that affliction, but if Taylor had lived to come home, he could have told all about it from experience. As he lay prostrate on the deck, he called to me between spasms : " I'm going to die — they've murdered me — O, dear ! Here I go again. Oh ! get a sharp knife and cut my throat. If you won't do me this favor, call Waterman and let him do it." It was a terrible night. The wind blew a gale, and the steamer pitched and tossed about. The deck hands laughed at us when we timidly inquired, " Is there any hope ? " " It's only a light squall," they assured us, but somehow we felt that the sailors were not in sympathy with us — who ever knew a sailor to have sympathy for a seasick landlubber ? None of us had any disposition to growl at our rations on the steamer. The Govern ment allowance for one platoon would have fed the whole battalion, with several basketfuls of fragments DOWN IN DIXIE. 107 left over. A good many silent prayers for deliverance were made, and a few audible ones were heard from those who were the most frightened. Quite a number, I have no doubt, prayed something after the fashion of the Irishman who got down on his knees in the cabin, when he thought the vessel that was bringing him over to America was going to the bottom, and said : " Lord, you know I've never asked a favor of you. And I'll promise never to ask another, if you'll only set me foot on dry land once more." We landed at Amboy, N. J. The experiences of that night on the steamer seem to overshadow events of minor importance. But I remember that all the boys who had life enough left to cheer, lifted their voices in joy and gladness when it was announced that we were sailing into port. We disembarked, and boarded a train that brought us in due time to Philadelphia. The Quaker City was like an oasis in the desert. It was the bright spot — and is to this day — in the memory of the sol diers who were permitted to partake of the hospitalities of its citizens, when journeying to or from the front. Three cheers for the Cooper shop ! Yes, three times three, and a tiger ! Our boys would have fared slim had it not been for the cordial welcome they received at Philadelphia. In the agonies of seasickness, many of the troopers had thrown overboard everything that par took of the nature of food. They never expected to be I08 DOWN IN DIXIE. hungry again. They suffered no permanent injury, however, from the short trip on the Sound, and when they got their shore legs on again their appetites came back. And how they did eat ! As we left the cars and marched toward the building where we had been told we would be royally entertained, we caught sight of a broad banner suspended from a rope across the street. On the banner were the words : Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon. Free. The building was a two-story structure. Over the door was the sign " William M. Cooper." The same name was inscribed on a streamer that floated from the top of a flag-pole near the building, and a second streamer bore the patriotic inscription : Union, Now and Forever. Death to Traitors. Pretty girls clad in neat calico dresses, with red, white and blue aprons, served the soldiers with an abun dance of substantial food and delicacies. " God bless you, ladies," was the universal verdict of the boys in blue. There was no stinting, no reserving of the best dishes for the men with shoulder-straps. Everybody was served with the best. To the left of the building were arranged sinks in which the travel-stained soldiers could wash their faces and hands, so as to be somewhat presentable when ushered into the presence of the bright-eyed matrons and maidens who presided at the tables. All were welcomed in a manner that attested DOWN IN DIXIE. 109 the genuineness of the hospitality of the Philadelphians, Everything was in order, and the arrangements for feeding the troops were complete. There was a larger refreshment saloon on Swanson Street, and others not so large, in the city, so that all the soldiers could be fed.Once more, three cheers for Philadelphia, the Cooper shop and the other refreshment saloons ! Three cheers for the young ladies — we shall always remember them as young ladies, although so many years have come and gone since the troopers of our battalion were their guests. May the richest blessings of Heaven rest upon those of the ladies who survive, and upon their husbands and their children and grandchildren, for some of them have probably been blest along this line. We were not molested on our passage through Bal timore, although some of the veterans had warned us that we would be assassinated in that hot-bed of seces sion. The veterans were always telling us of dreadful things that were to happen as we approached the rebel country. We reached the national capital without startling adventure, and were ordered to proceed to Camp Stoneman, a few miles southeast of the capital. A few nights after our arrival at Camp Stoneman, several unsophisticated country lads in Company I were initiated into the mysteries of poker — draw poker, played after taps. I would draw the curtain over this no DOWN IN DIXIE. poker business were it not for the belief that there will be another war by and by, and possibly this note of warning may put the boys who will then blossom out as recruits on their guard against this great national evil. We were paid off just before leaving Camp Meigs. A large majority of the boys sent their money home. But there were quite a number who held on to their funds till they reached Camp Stoneman. An inventory of cash on hand in our tent brought to light a ten dollar bill in Waterman's possession, a five dollar note and a few smaller bills in the hands of Taylor, fifteen dollars retained by Hom and about the same amount in my inside pocket — nearly fifty dollars all told. While we were comparing notes one evening a vet eran poked his head in through the door and whispered: " Any you fellows want to take a hand ? " " At what ? " " Poker." " Where ? " " Sh — ! Here comes the orderly." After the first sergeant had passed on down the line of tents, the veteran again invited us to take a hand. I declined peremptorily. I had never played cards. " It's wicked to gamble," I said. " But this is only a friendly game of draw — it isn't gambling." DOWN IN DIXIE. I I I " I don't mind trying my luck," said Taylor. " Well, if you'll go down back of the cook tent right after taps you'll find some of the boys there." "All right; I'll be on hand." I decided to accompany Taylor. A few minutes after taps — the bugle signal for lights to be put out — Taylor and I stole quietly down to the cook tent. Two of the boys were there to conduct us to the gambling den. " This way, and don't make any noise," said the guide. We moved out a few hundred yards just over the brow of a small hill, where we found the den. It was part dug-out and part brush-heap. Old blankets were hung up against the bushes to prevent the light from shining through. Inside we found a sergeant of Com pany M, who seemed to be boss of the ranch. Several non-commissioned officers, musicians and privates were there. It was a dismal enough place. I did not want to go in, but concluded I had gone too far to back out. " It's only ten cents ante," said the veteran ; " you are perfectly safe, as you needn't bet unless your hand'll stand it." Taylor and I were paired off with the veteran and a trooper of Company K. The first hand dealt by the "poker sharp " — for that's what our veteran proved to be — did not show anything to bet on, as I was told by a "spectator," who looked over my shoulder. I I 2 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Draw to your ace," whispered the man who gave me the steer. I drew two more aces. "Go your pile on that hand," urged my backer. " I go my pile on this hand," I exclaimed. " How much's your pile ? " asked the veteran. " Fourteen dollars and fifty cents." " I see you and go you a V better." " But that's all I've got." " All right, then ; show your cards." " Three aces and queen high ! Think I'm a green horn, do you ? " I repeated after my prompter. " My money," coolly remarked the veteran as he raked in the cash, showing four kings and a ten spot. Taylor and the other fellow had " staid out." I was broke on the first hand, and I was advised to " skoot for camp," but I declared I would not go till my partner went. " I'll win your money back in no time," said Taylor, as another hand was dealt. But what is the use of going on with the poker story. Taylor was penniless in a few minutes. As we crawled back to camp he insisted that if Waterman or Hom would loan him five dollars he could go back and " bust • the bank." But they had sense enough to refuse him. We had been in the hands of poker pirates. There was an organized gang of gamblers in nearly DOWN IN DIXIE. I 13 every camp around Washington. They fairly skinned the recruits. They had all sorts of games and appa ratus. The soldier who was too good to play cards would be invited to throw dice " for fun," and before he knew it he was staking a month's pay on a single throw. But my first experience opened my eyes. I never visited the den again while at Camp Stoneman, and I never played cards again for money during the rest of my ser vice in the Army of the Potomac. Down in front of Petersburg the next winter, three soldiers ran a faro game the night after the paymaster's visit to a New York regiment to which they belonged, and it was stated in the sutler's tent the next mornins that the trio had won every cent that had been left with the regiment, except the pay of the major in command, and his escape was due to the fact that he was sum moned to corps headquarters to explain a discrepancy in a regimental return and the game was over before he could get around to try his hand. There was another class of men in the army who were always on the make, though they were not gam blers. They were the company or regimental bankers and brokers. They made lots of money, but their vic tims were taken in with their eyes open. That is, they were given to understand the true inwardness of the transaction before they took stock in it. One or two men in each company could be found who had money 114 DOWN IN DIXIE. between pay-days. How they managed to hold on to their cash under such great temptations as they were at times subjected to, was a mystery to the other boys. There were times when " money was no object " to the soldier; he was ready to pay five dollars, ten dol lars, twenty dollars or any sum that he could rake or scrape for a square meal or something in the line of food. Then it was that the company banker got in his work. Having no money to pay for what he wanted to eat or drink the financial wreck would apply to the man with the wealth. " Loan me five dollars, Jones ? " " For how much ? " " Ten, pay-day." " Can't spare it." " I'll give you fifteen dollars, then." " Well, I'll do it to accommodate you, but it's a big risk." The money-lenders did take big risks when in the field. If the borrower were killed or detailed away from his company, the banker was the loser. But in winter quarters the risk was not so great, and there was no justification for charging twenty-five, fifty and one hundred per cent, interest for two months or forty days, as was frequently the case. Still there was no getting around the saying of the Shylocks that " if you don't want to pay the price you can let my money alone." CHAPTER VIIL Visiting the National Capital — An Interesting Picture — Lin coln, Grant a?td Meade — The Provost Guard — A Courier to the Adpitant-General — Sweetening up a Jersey Regiment — The Army Mule and his Services to the Government — The Mule- Whacker's Code — Wonderful Possibilities. OLDIERS who were attentive to duty and promptly responded to details at Camp Stoneman were given passes now and then to visit Washington. Taylor and I applied for an all-night pass, _____ mounted. It was approved, and soon "^ after guard-mount one day we started for the national capital, bent on having a good time. We concluded that we could see the sights to better advantage on foot, so we paid one dollar each for the privilege of putting our horses in a stable on one of the side streets near the Capitol. Then we started to explore the city. Hanging over the door of a restaurant on the north I 1 6 DOWN IN DIXIE. side of Pennsylvania Avenue, midway the Capitol and the treasury building, was a picture — an oil painting — which caused a good deal of controversy among visit ors. On our way up the avenue Taylor and I ran across one of the Berlin boys who belonged to the One hundred and twenty-fifth New York. He said he was stopping at the hospital, awaiting transportation to his regiment. He had been wounded at Gettysburg, I think he said. As we approached the picture our infantry friend exclaimed : " That's a splendid picture of General Meade. I fought with him at Gettysburg — it's so lifelike." We stopped and admired the portrait. The gallant commander of the Army of the Potomac was represented in full uniform. As we moved on and were directly in front of the building I chanced to look again at the picture. It was not Meade — it was Lincoln ! " See here ! " I remarked to the comrade from the One hundred and twenty-fifth, "you couldn't have been very close to General Meade at Gettysburg if you don't know his picture from that of Uncle Abe." " I guess I know Meade's picture when I see it. You didn't fight at Gettysburg. If you had been there you might be qualified to pass judgment on the picture." " Well, we'll leave it to you. Take another look — whose picture is it? " DOWN IN DIXIE. 119 "Jimmynetty ! Sure enough that's Lincoln! I didn't know, boys, that Washington whiskey would affect one like that. But I haven't got entirely over my sickness yet. If I had been put on the stand I would have sworn that it was General Meade." Taylor and I had a big laugh at the expense of our friend from Gettysburg. As we walked up the street we met a trooper from Camp Stoneman, who said : " Boys, tell me what you're laughing at ? " " We were laughing at the queer effect of Washing ton whiskey on this doughboy. He was trying to make us believe that that picture of Lincoln was a portrait of General Meade," I replied. " You wouldn't swallow it, of course ? " " Not much. I'm green enough, but I guess I know the picture of President Lincoln when I see it." " Well, I guess you don't if you call that Lincoln's picture." " It's old Abe's picture, all the same," said Taylor. " You're mistaken, my boy." " Bet you ten dollars it's Lincoln." " I'll take it." " Leave it to Allen ? " " All right." " Well, whose picture is it ? " the new-comer asked. "It's — Lincoln's," I started to say, but just then I looked at it again. I20 DOWN IN DIXIE. It was a life-size portrait of the hero of Vicksburg ! " That's General Grant's picture," said I. " Taylor, you're ten dollars out." " You boys ought to wait till you get acquainted in Washington and know the President's picture from Grant's before you stake your money," said the winner of the wager. " They don't look a bit alike. But come on, it's my treat." As we were about to enter the door over which the picture was suspended Taylor seized the man who had won his money by the arm, and exclaimed : " Give me back my ten dollars ! " " What for ? " " That's not Grant's picture — it's Abe Lincoln's." " Guess not ! " " Look and see, then ! " " You're right, old boy ; here's your money. But it's strange — I was sure it was Grant." " Well, I'll treat as I'm ten dollars better off'n I thought I was," said Taylor. As we started for " a soldiers' retreat " near the Capitol, our infantry friend yelled out: " If that isn't Meade's picture, I never saw Meade, and I never was at Gettysburg!" We all looked at the picture again. The doughboy was right. There was no mistaking the features of the hero of Gettysburg. Taylor whispered to me : DOWN IN DIXIE. 121 "Let's get our horses and go to camp — another drink will make us all crazy." " Hold on; I 'm going to find out about this picture," I replied. Then we began an inspection. We found that it depended entirely on where we stood in respect of whose picture we saw. From the Capitol side it was Meade ; in front of the picture it was Lincoln, and from the treasury side it was Grant. We continued our in vestigation, walking along with our eyes fixed on the picture, and we found that at a certain point Meade's picture faded out and Lincoln's began to appear in the frame. At last the secret came out. The pictures were painted on slats, and arranged like the soap advertise ments one sees in front of groceries. As you approach the sign it tells you the name of the soap, as you are in front of it you are assured that " It floats," and as you look back at the slat-sign you are reminded that " It is the best and cheapest." It was a revelation to us, as we had never seen nor heard of anything like it before. Old soldiers will recall the picture. It was amusing to get three persons standing so that each saw a different face in the frame, to " name the picture." Each would be ready to " bet his pile " on his man. Then they were called on to change positions and the fun began. The soldier who visited Washington on pass was 122 DOWN IN DIXIE. called upon every few minutes, if he kept moving about the city, to show his papers to the provost guard. There were mounted guards and foot guards. Their only object in life seemed to be to allow no enlisted man to breathe in the capital of the Union he had volun teered to defend unless he could show that his permit had been duly approved through all the red-tape chan nels. Taylor and I were obliged to show our pass a dozen times during the day. If a soldier lost his permit, or if he was found in Washinsfton without a document of that sort, the patrol would rush him to the guard house and notify the commanding officer of the regi ment to which the " stray " belonged. But Yankee ingenuity was too much for the provost guard at times. On one occasion I was out exercising my horse with a veteran of company I. It was about ten o'clock a. m. We had both come off guard that morning, and were not required to report for ordinary duties till stable-call in the afternoon. We were on hi^h ground near one of the forts north of Camp Stoneman, and we could see the Capitol and a considerable portion of the city. " Let's go to Washington," suggested my companion. " Haven't got a pass." "We don't need a pass. I know how to beat the provo', and we can get back by two o'clock and have a good time." DOWN IN DIXIE. 123 " But how can we work it ? " " I'll show you. Wait here till I come back." The veteran rode into camp, and in a few minutes he returned with our waist belts and white gloves. He wore a neat-fitting blouse and a " store cap." After we had covered half the distance to the city he produced a pair of captain's shoulder-straps which he fastened on his blouse with clasp-pins made for that purpose. Then he said, with mock sternness: " Orderly, you will fall back, and ride a few paces be hind your superior officer." " All right, Cap'n," I replied, as I began to compre hend the situation. We reached the city without molestation, and had a good time. We were back in camp before stable-call sounded, and as the " captain " reduced himself to the ranks by taking off his shoulder-straps on the way from the city, no one suspected that we had been masquerad ing in the capital. Another "racket" worked by some of the troopers was successful nine times out of ten when the boys kept sober and put on a bold front. Having permission to exercise their horses in the vicinity of Camp Stoneman, they would tog out in their parade clothes and side arms — saber and revolver. Then they would address a large envelope to some officer of high rank in Washington, write " official business " in big letters in the upper left- 124 DOWN IN DIXIE. hand corner, put a make-believe letter inside, seal the envelope and stick it in the waist belt. With the enve lope conspicuously displayed, the trooper would ride boldly into the city. If he did not run into the provost guard there was no necessity to play the role of a dis patch bearer. But if the guard were met the trooper was generally equal to the emergency. He would make no attempt to evade the provost, but riding straight for the officer in charge of the guard he would hold his " O. B." envelope in his hand, and ask : " Where will I find the office of Adjt.-Gen. E. D. Townsend ? " This would throw the guard off his guard, so to speak, and he would give the information asked for to the supposed dispatch bearer, who would salute and thank the officer and gallop away in the direction indicated. One of our boys had a narrow escape from arrest by the provost guard one day. He visited Washington as the bearer of a fictitious dispatch to the adjutant- general. The provost guard — the cavalry patrol — had been instructed to be very particular in examining passes of mounted men, as it was stated rebel spies in the uniform of Federal cavalrymen had been about the city. The Massachusetts trooper was riding up Penn sylvania Avenue when he was halted by the provost guard. DOWN IN DIXIE. [25 " Show your pass," said the officer. " This is all the pass I have," replied the trooper, pulling the " O. B." envelope from his belt. " Who's the letter from ? " " Major Sargent, commanding the third battalion of the First Massachusetts cavalry at Camp Stoneman." " What business has a major to send letters to the adjutant-general direct? They ought to be forwarded through the regular channels." " All I know about it is that I was sent with the letter. Open it if you don't think it's all right.' " I won't open a sealed letter addressed to the ad jutant-general, but I'll, send a guard with you to see that it's all right. If it isn't you'll have a general court- martial. Sergeant, take two men and go with this fellow to the adjutant-general's office and see if the dis patch is genuine." Here was a condition of things. The trooper under stood that nothing but military strategy of high order could save him from arrest and punishment. When the adjutant-general's office was reached he dismounted, and handing the rein of his horse's bridle to one of his escort, he walked boldly into the outer office. The ser geant remained outside, supposing that no private sol dier would go into the adjutant-general's office except on official business. As the trooper entered he shoved the " O. B." envelope under his jacket. 126 DOWN IN DIXIE. "Can I see the adjutant-general ?" the trooper in quired of the clerk nearest the door. " I want to ask him about a transfer to the infantry." The clerk was evidently a new hand or, more likely, he thought the cavalryman was too green to know better than to apply personally to the adjutant-general on any such business. Said the clerk : " He'll be busy all the forenoon. I don't believe he would see you if he were not busy." " Well, then, I'll come again. Will you let me have a sheet of paper ? " The clerk complied with this cheeky request, and the cavalryman after going through the motions of writing a letter asked for an envelope. " I have none but official envelopes," replied the clerk. " That'll do just as well. Will you please direct it for me ? " This request was also complied with, as the clerk seemed to think it the quickest way to get rid of an un welcome visitor. The next minute the trooper was outside with a big official envelope addressed to " Major L. M. Sargent, commanding third battalion First Massa chusetts cavalry, Camp Stoneman." The provost sergeant examined the envelope. There was the official office mark of the adjutant-general's office. The sergeant said apologetically : DOWN IN DIXIE. 129 " I'm sorry we bothered you, but I had to obey orders." " I don't blame you. Sergeant, but the lieutenant ought to know better than to interfere with a courier to the adjutant-general." The " courier " enjoyed the freedom of the national capital till he was ready to return to camp. He took dinner at a restaurant at the expense of the lieutenant of the provost guard, who assured the trooper : " Our orders are so strict now that we are obliged to halt everybody." " It's all right. I didn't say anything to the adjutant- general about it. But I must go back to camp with the letter to Major Sargent." Washinoton was crowded with soldiers and civilians connected with the army as contractors and the like. New regiments and recruits for old organizations were pouring in from the loyal States. Some two-year men were on their way home, having served their time out. Washington was the lay-over station for troops en route to the front or on the way back to the States. Every thing seemed to be run on the go-as-you-please order, but back of it all there was a good deal more system and regularity than appeared on the surface. In the midst of all this confusion the enlisted men swore at their officers, and the officers found fault with the higher authorities. As an illustration of the condition 130 DOWN IN DIXIE. of things and how, at times, the fault-finding was pre mature, the trials of a New Jersey regiment passing through Washington on the way home may be instanced. The hungry heroes marched over the Long Bridge from .Arlington Heights, arriving in the capital late in the afternoon. They did not care anything about a place to camp. The sidewalk was better than the Virginia ^mud which they had wallowed in for the last six months. But they did want something to eat. " Where's our rations ? " the men demanded of the officers as soon as they were marched into the soldiers' retreat near the Baltimore and Ohio depot. " A requisition was made out and sent on in ad vance," was the answer made by the regimental commissary. " The Government don't care anything about our stomachs, now our time's out," chorused the hungry Jerseyites. The boys growled a good deal, raking over the authorities from the President down. " We could have found hard-tack and coffee at the front," they said, " and right here under the shadow of the Capitol we can't get as much as a smell of a camp kettle. And they even ask us to come back for three years more ! " The Government was voted a fraud by a large majority. About this time — half an hour after the DOWN IN DIXIE. 1 21 regiment had reached the retreat — a staff officer ap peared at the door and asked for the commandino- officer. When the colonel, who was in command, re sponded, the staff officer said : " Colonel, please fall in your regiment and bring them to supper. I will show you the way." The growlers were marched to a coffee house, where they were given a big feed — hot coffee with plenty of milk and sugar, cold boiled ham and soft bread, with pickles and potatoes. The boys sang another tune after supper, for there is nothing like a square meal to take the growl out of an old soldier. While stuffing themselves remarks like the following were made : " This is a regular feast — the Government does look after its soldiers." " And milk and potatoes and other side dishes — hurrah for Father Abraham ! " " Bring on the enlistment papers ; I'll go back for three years or during the war ! " It was a feast for the veterans. And it showed that back of the hubbub and uproar and all that there was a system ^- call it red tape or what you will — that was looking after the stomachs of the nation's defenders. To be sure, mistakes were made now and then, but so far as the Government was concerned every possible step was taken to provide for the soldiers. The latter were frequently victims of rascally contractors, but it 132 DOWN IN DIXIE. can be said that Uncle Sam paid enough to furnish the soldiers with an abundance of food. The Jersey regiment was breakfasted at the same place the next morning, and then marched to the depot to take the cars for home. Here the growls came to the surface again. " Your train will be here right away," said the staff officer, who had been detailed to look after the regiment. The soldiers stacked arms, and in a few minutes a train of cattle cars was backed in. " I thought there was some mistake," exclaimed one of the chief growlers. " They are going to make us ride in these nasty cattle cars to make up for the two square meals they have given us." " I'll never ride into New Jersey in a cattle car ! " " Nor I ; I'll walk home first." '' It's too bad, boys," assented the colonel. But it proved another case of premature growling. The cattle train had only backed in to clear a switch. A few minutes later a regular passenger train with re served cars for the Jersey boys made its appearance. After the regiment had boarded the train — there were seats enough for all ; cushioned seats, too — the staff officer said : " Have your men all got seats. Colonel ? " " Yes ; thank you." " Well, good-by." DOWN IN DIXIE. 133 Then the boys cheered the staff officer. They cheered President Lincoln and all the authorities, civil and military. They left the national capital in excel lent spirits, well-pleased with their treatment, and the majority of them returned within a month, enlisted again, and this time for three years or during the war. There is no question that the special attention shown them at Washington had an influence in respect of their re-enlistment. And some old soldiers — chronic growlers — asserted that the Jerseyites were sweetened up to get them to re-enlist. If that was the reason, it worked to a charm. But the boys enjoyed the viands and cushioned seats, all the same. Everything in Washington seemed to be in an un finished state. There was staging all around the dome of the Capitol, where preparations were being made to place the Goddess of Liberty. Down in the bottom lands north of the Long Bridge, the unfinished monu ment to the Father of his Country stuck up like a sore thumb. There were tackle and pulley blocks and stag- in the boys in the company to help themselves, after "our four " had stowed away all we could. The second platoon swept down on that box, and in less than a minute the boys were eating home-made pies and 2o6 DOWN IN DIXIE. cookies all along the line. A picture or two, a pair of knit socks and a few souvenirs were secured by Water man and myself. " Attention, company ! " " Prepare to mount ! " " Mount!" " Form ranks ! " " By fours, march ! " and we were en route to the Rapidan. It was the last taste of home-made grub that we enjoyed till the campaign was over. We secured the makings of a square meal now and then while raid ing around Richmond, but the territory had been for aged so often that it was considered mighty poor pickings the last two years of the war. As we rode forward, we found that everybody was on the march or getting ready to leave. Lines of tents were disappearing on all sides as the long roll sounded through the camps. Supply trains were moving out, and everything was headed about due south. As we rode by the bivouacs of the infantry, the foot soldiers, imitating the Johnnies, would sing out : " Hay, there ! where be you all goin' ? " " Bound for Richmond." " But we all are not ready to move out yet." " Then we'll drive you out." " You all can't whip we all. Bob Lee will drive you all back as he has done before." DOWN IN DIXIE. 207 Then there would be a general laugh all along the line at the expression in this semi-sericJus way of an idea that had gained a strong lodgment in the minds of many " peace patriots " at the North. The soldiers at the front who were doing their best to crush out rebel lion did not share in the feeling that the Jeff Davis government would carry the day. The veterans of Gettysburg and of Antietam knew that the Union army was in no respect inferior to the chivalry of the South — man to man. All the Army of the Potomac needed to enable it to fight Lee's army to the finish, and win, was a commander that knew what fighting to a finish meant. Would the new commander fill the bill ? President Lincoln, in presenting Grant's commission as lieutenant-general at the White House, March 9, 1864, assured the modest hero from the West that "as the country herein trusts you, so, under God, it will sus tain you." A few days after the lieutenant-general remarked: "The Army of the Potomac is a very fine one, and has shown the highest courage. Still, I think it has never fought its battles through." The Army of the Potomac was waiting for a general who would give it an opportunity to " fight its battles through." All eyes were fixed on the lieutenant-general. The result is recorded in history. As we pressed toward the Rapidan there were evi dences all about us that the Army of the Potomac was 2o8 DOWN IN DIXIE. Stripping for the fight. All superfluous baggage and trappings were left behind. The army was ready to strike a powerful blow at its old adversary, and the con flict was at hand. Sheridan was at the head of the cavalry corps. As we came in sight of the Rapidan and made preparations for swimming the river with our horses to cover the laying of the pontoon bridges, so that the infantry and artillery could cross, we felt that a few days would determine whether the Army of the Po tomac would go " on to Richmond," or, bleeding and shattered from an unsuccessful onslaught upon Lee's veterans, fall back to its old quarters, as it had done on other occasions. CHAPTER XIII. •Crossing the Rapidan — The Pontoon Train — On the South Bank — The First Brigade — Out to Todd' s Tavern — The Night Before the Battle. HE crossing of the Rapidan by the Army of the Potomac, May 4, 1864, was an in teresting and exciting event. Gregg's division — the second — of Sheridan's cavalry corps formed the advance of the column that crossed at Ely's ford. The First Massachusetts cavalry was in the ffrst brigade of Gregg's division. At nightfall Wednesday the crossing had been effected by the entire army. The second corps, com manded by Gen. Hancock, and the supply train crossed -on the pontoon bridge at Ely's ford. Wilson's cavalry division headed the column that crossed at Germania ford, six miles up the river, and included Gen. Warren's fifth corps and the sixth corps commanded by Gen. Sedgwick, who was killed by a rebel sharpshooter at 209 2 ID DOWN IN DTXIE. Spottsylvania a few days later. We arrived at the ford soon after midnight, and preparations were made tO' swim the river. " I never thought the army went hunting round in the night for Johnnies in this way," said one of our boys. " We're stealing a march on old man Lee." " Think we'll make it ? " " Don't know' — tell better when daylight comes." " Lee will miss us in the morning." " Yes ; and then look out. He'll come tearing down. this way ready for fight." The boys were not far out of the way. Lee did miss us in the morning, but he found us Wednesday night,. and pitched into Grant's army bright and early the next morning. But to the river ! The Rapidan was high for that season, and the re cruits were given special instructions about managing their horses while swimming the stream. The bank was steep on the north side of the river, and the oppo site bank was precipitous, except the narrow cut where the road descended into the water. Old troopers de clared that the only way to swim a river was to dis mount, take hold of the horse's tail, urge the animal into the stream and hang on to the tail. But I noticed that the veterans did not try the experiment. They remained in their saddles. One " new hand " who accepted every thing the old soldiers said as law and gospel, essayed to DOWN IN DIXIE. 211 swim the Rapidan " on foot." With his clothes on, in cluding a large overcoat, the foolhardy trooper marched into the water behind his horse. His carbine'was at tached to the sling over his shoulder, and his saber balanced him on the other side. Then he carried a haversack and canteen, besides wearing a waist belt and cartridge-box with pistol and holster. Heavy top-boots and spurs were included in his make-up. His body was not recovered. Our horses were as new to this sort of thing as we were, but they carried us over after a fashion. The current was so swift that not one horse in each set of fours landed in the road on the south side. I remem ber that as my set took to the water, I twisted my horse's mane through my fingers and around my wrist. I was determined not to separate from my charger till we reached the other shore. We were carried down stream at a lively rate for a few minutes, but I kept the horse's head steered for the cut where the road was, and we came out not more than one hundred yards below the objective point. We did not have metallic cartridges for our carbines and revolvers at that time. When we rode into the Rapidan and struck out for the south bank, we were admonished by the officers — in the language of a dis tinguished patriot — to " Trust in God and keep your powder dry." 212 DOWN IN DIXIE. It was stated after we had reached terra firma and inventoried ourselves, that the rebel cavalry pickets at the ford had opened fire on us as we were swimming the river. But my attention was so much occupied while in the water, that I did not hear the firing. The Johnnies did not remain to interview us after we had crossed. The pontoon train was soon on hand, its arrival being announced by the braying of the mules attached to the wagons. " I hope Lee's men up around Orange Court House are all good sleepers," said a trooper, who was pouring the water out of his boots. " Why so ? " " Because if any of them are awake and fail to hear those infernal mules, they must be mighty hard o' hearing." The pontooners were soon at work on the bridge, which was completed by the time the head of the in fantry column reached the ford. The laying of a pontoon bridge, where the current was swift and the stream was of considerable width, re quired quick and skillful manipulation of the boats and the timbers and planks that went to make up the struct ure. Every boat and every plank was calculated to fit in a certain place. Anchoring the boats was attended with risk and difficulty. Yet so perfect was the system, and so thorough the drill of the pontooners, that an DOWN IN DIXIE. 213 ordinary stream could be bridged in remarkably quick time. As fast as the boats were anchored, one after the other, and equidistant, the timbers were laid and the planks placed and fastened, so that as soon as the last boat was in line and made fast to the opposite shore, the bridge was completed by the placing of the timbers of its last span. Before the shore connection had been fairly planked, the soldiers were crossing. Pickets were thrown out toward Todd's Tavern and the Wilderness as soon as we reached the south bank of the Rapidan. We knew that a battle was at hand, and although we were spoiling for a fight, some of us — two of us, any way, for my tentmate and I compared notes and found that we were a unit on the question — felt relieved when the advance guard of the infantry came tramping over the bridge. We suggested to each other that should Lee's army dash out of the woods that surrounded us, the Johnnies could make it hot for us with infantry, cavalry and artillery, before our foot soldiers could cross. But the rebels did not know the condition of things at the ford. We scouted out toward Todd's Tavern and connected with Wilson's cavalry pickets up toward Germania. Still the Johnnies kept shady. In the re-organization of the Army of the Potomac for the campaign of 1864, our regiment. Major Lucius M. Sargent commanding, was brigaded with the First 214 DOWN IN DIXIE. New Jersey, Lieutenant-Colonel John W. Kester ; the Sixth Ohio, Colonel William Steadman, and the First Pennsylvania, Colonel John P. Taylor. The brigade was commanded by Brigadier-General Henry E. Davies, Jr., formerly colonel of the Second New York, and was known as the first brigade, second division, cavalry corps. Two companies of our regiment, C and D, Captain Edward A. Flint commanding, were on duty as escort at Gen. Meade's headquarters. The second division was commanded by Brigadier- General David McM. Gregg, a model cavalry officer. He won the star of a brigadier in 1862, and at Gettys burg he commanded the second cavalry division. At different times he was in command of the corps. In discipline he was strict, but he knew how to take care of his men. The second division always had rations for man and beast if they were to be had anywhere. After the crossing of the Rapidan had been effected, Sheridan's cavalry thoroughly scouted the country to the front. The enemy kept well in the background, and when we bivouacked for the night Wednesday, May 4, we congratulated ourselves that we had slipped past Lee's right and would be able to head him off before he could withdraw from his lines at Orange Court House, and reach the fortifications in front of the rebel capital. Inside of twenty-four hours, however, we found that our congratulations were premature. DOWN IN DIXIE. 215 Wednesday the Union cavalry scouted over the ground that on Thursday saw the bloodiest fighting. An old darky was interrogated by our cavalry near Todd's Tavern : " Uncle, where are the rebels? " " I 'clare, massa, dey don dusted 'way from heah when Massa Linkum's army cross de ribber up yondah." " When did they leave here ? " " Fo sun up. One come ridin' 'long an' say, ' De Yanks's comin'." " And then what ? " " Dey say, ' We better go'n tell Uncle Robert.' " " Did they leave in a hurry ? " " I dunno what you all might call hurry, but 'pears as how dey wanted to see Massa Robert drefful bad." We bivouacked on the road not far from Chancel- lorsville the night before the Battle of the Wilderness. The boys were in excellent spirits. Pickets were posted well out in front. Everybody was on duty. The Army of the Potomac slept that night with more than one eye open. There was something in the air that seemed to betoken a crisis. It was felt that the situation was ex tremely hazardous — for Lee, if not for us. But the boys would have their fun. " I've about made up my mind to desert," said a lad who had been dubbed "Company I's titman " because of his diminutive size. 2l6 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Why SO ? " " Because the quartermaster refuses to supply me with a stepladder." " What do you want of a stepladder ? " " To climb on to my horse with. My legs are stiff after that soaking in the river, and when the command ' mount ' is given I'm obliged to climb up the stirrup strap. If Taylor hadn't given me a boost the last time, I never could have got into the saddle." There was a hearty laugh at the titman's complaint. It was, indeed, a serious matter for him to mount his horse without assistance. He was not over five feet tall, and his legs were shorter in proportion than his body. Getting into the saddle according to tactics was no easy thing for a short-legged man. It was a physical impossibility for some of the boys to " prepare to mount " according to tactics, to say noth ing about completing the movement. In active service the officers did not bother with a strict enforcement of the " times and motions." But in camp ! There the stirrup climbers' lives were made miserable. It was not always safe for recruiting officers to assume that a boy's legs would lengthen out a foot or two pending the re^ cruit's initiation into active service after enlistment. The necessity of a stepladder in some cases was more real than one would think at first blush. At ten o'clock Wednesday night our pickets reported DOWN IN DIXIE. 217 " all quiet " on our front. But it was the calm that pre ceded the storm. The general opinion among the rank and file was that Lee would hustle himself into his Richmond fortifications when he awoke to the fact that Grant was swinging the Army of the Potomac by the left flank in that direction. But Lee was nearer at hand than we suspected ! CHAPTER XIV- In the Wilderness — The First Shot — Forward Into Battle — Battle field Experiences — The Soldier and the Parson — Charging the Enemy — Fighting on Foot — Holding the Line — - Ammunition Giving Out — Flanked by the Rebels — Our Horses Gone. HURSDAY morning. May 5, 1864, found the First Massachusetts cavalry well out on the left flank of the Union army. Grant had his troops well in hand, but the lay of the land was de cidedly unfavorable to military move ments. There was scarcely an open space in the Wilderness in which a single regiment could make a right wheel without breaking files to the rear to avoid obstacles in the shape of scrub-oak and other kinds of trees, with an abundance of underbrush, etc. Then the land was all cut up with gullies washed out by the rain. We had no suspicion that the rebels would attempt to bring on a general engagement in such a miserable 218 DOWN IN DIXIE. 219 place. If our wishes had been consulted the Battle of the Wilderness would have been postponed until we had i-eached the open country further toward the rebel capi tal. I have no doubt that surviving Confederates recall much that is unpleasant in connection with that terrible struggle. But the gra,y coats were responsible for it — they pitched into us before breakfast. Bang! A single shot down the turnpike that led to Todd's Tavern. The First New Jersey of our brigade was on picket out there. We were a little off the road, dismounted, and cook ing our coffee. Our horses were unbridled, with their nosebags on, eatinof their allowance of oats. Old sol- diers will understand the situation exactly when I say that the water in our tin cups was just beginning to " simmer around the edge." Some of the boys had already put in the spoonful of ground coffee that consti tuted the ration, and were anxiously waiting for it to bubble up — the first authentic rumor of its boiling. Many a time the correctness of the saying that "a watched pot never boils " was demonstrated to the hungry soldiers. Bang ! bang ! bang ! It was hard for the boys to believe that the first shot was not accidental, but when after an interval of a min ute or two, three distinct reports were heard, we began 2 20 DOWN IN DIXIE. to wish that we had boiled our coffee before reveille to make sure of it. Still we did not doubt the ability of the Jersey lads to take care of the picket line, but we were apprehensive that a staff officer or somebody in authority would get excited and order us into our saddles. " She biles!" exclaimed my bunkey who was watch ing the two tin cups on our little fire while I was sprinkling salt and pepper into a mixture of soaked hard-tack and pork that was stewing away in my frying- pan. When cooked, the amalgamation was sweetened to taste, if there was sugar in the haversack. If not, we took it without sugar. The dish was popular in the army. I never could understand why it was given the name it was known by, unless the soldier who christened it entertained well-grounded suspicions that the meat used had been cut from a canine instead of a porker. Just as we were taking our breakfast off the fire the bugle sounded " to horse." And the call was emphasized by lively picket firing all along our front. " You bridle both our horses, and I'll try and cool our coffee so we can drink it" said my partner. But the order to mount came close on the heels of the first bugle call, and the effort to save the coffee re sulted in the blistering of my bunkey's hands. It was impossible for him to get into the saddle with a cup of hot coffee in each hand. He was so much disgusted DOWN IN DIXIE. 22 1 with the situation that he threw the coffee away, and was not thoughtful enough to hold on to the cups. " By fours, forward, trot, march ! " and we were heading for the picket line where the First Jersey was exchanging leaden compliments with the enemy. A staff officer came dashing in from the woods where the fighting had begun, and the command " gallop " was given after he had reached the head of our regiment. In a few minutes we were at the front. The Jersey boys cheered as we came into line across the turnpike and deployed to the right and left. We cheered also, but I suppose it was because some one had suggested it. Our battalion had never been in a regular battle, and we concluded it was proper to do as the veterans did. Off at our right the rattle of musketry and the booming of cannon indicated that the battle had begun out that way also. The sharp crack of carbines told where Sheridan's troopers were holding forth. We felt that our turn had come to uphold the honor of the flag, and show the other regiments in our brigade that the Bay State boys could fight even if they were to be initiated in one of the bloodiest conflicts of the rebellion. I believe our battalion went into and through the Battle of the Wilderness with less of concern in respect of personal safety than was felt by the veterans. The new men were not alive to the actual dangers of battle. Such things cannot be understood second hand. Old 222 DOWN IN DIXIE. soldiers, familiar with the horrors of war, went in with their faces set as a flint toward the foe. But they knew what was coming ; the recruits did not. And we had no time to speculate after we reached the skirmish line. We were kept so busy that we could scarcely take in the new features of the fight as they were brought out while the battle progressed. Since the war I have heard old soldiers around the camp fires, tell how they lost all sense of fear after their first battle, and that the more engagements they par ticipated in the less concern they had about it, until toward the end of the war they became so inured to the dreadful carnage on the battle field that they " had rather fight than eat." I never reached that experience. And I do not believe anybody else did. Love of country, and a willingness to die in defense of the flag, were characteristics of the Yankee volunteers. A desire to kill somebody and be killed in return, for the mere love of killing, is another thing entirely. But if some of the comrades still insist that they got into that blood-hardened condition, I will have no quarrel with them. This brings to mind a story about a Rensselaer county soldier who came home on furlough in 1862. The warrior bold astonished the people of his native village by his blood-curdling accounts of the battles he had been in, and the scores of rebels he had slain. DOWN IN DIXIE. 223 Every time he told his story he increased the number of his dead until his hearers began to question if there were enough rebels left to continue the war. " I only came home to give the Johnnies a chance to recruit a few more regiments for me to exterminate," he said. The volunteer's mother felt that her son had forafot- ten his early training, and she had within her a grieved spirit over her boy's apparent indifference to the Script ural declaration that " All liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone : which is the second death." The mother requested the min ister to labor with her soldier son, and see if something could not be done to reclaim him. The good pastor cheerfully complied, as reports of what his former Sun day-school scholar had been telling had already reached his ears. He cornered the boy in blue alone, and the following; conversation was had : " Dost thou still believe the teachings of thy youth, John ? Wot ye not what the Scripture saith ? " " I do. Parson." " And dost thou believe it is wicked to lie ? " " I do." " Well, then, tell me honestly and truly, how many rebels have you killed ? " " Do you mean since I first enlisted, or during the last campaign ? " 2 24 DOWN IN DIXIE. " I mean all — the blood of how many rebels is on your hands ? " " Now, Parson, do you want the truth? " " Most assuredly — the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." " Well, if I must tell it. Parson, I have killed just as many of them as they have of me — no more, no less ; but don't give me away." But to return to the Wilderness. As our regiment came into line to support the Jersey boys, we found a high Virginia rail fence directly in our front. It was impossible to clear this obstruction mounted. The rebel fire was getting hotter, and the necessity of doing something in return was imperative. It was seen that unless we could get beyond the fence there was no chance to pay the enemy back in kind. Several of our comrades had fallen, and the command was passed along the line, " Prepare to fight on foot ! " The regiment dismounted, and, passing through an opening in the fence, a line was formed to charge the rebels in our front. A cavalryman is at great disadvantage when dis mounted. He is handicapped with extra belts, boots and spurs, etc., and fighting on foot is not half as ro mantic as dashing upon the enemy mounted on a spirited charger. However, there was no time nor inclination for this line of reasoning. DOWN IN DIXIE. 225 When we came out of the tangled forest that skirted the fence on the opposite side from the place where we left our horses, we found ourselves in a plowed field. We sank into the soft ground nearly to our knees as we charged. There was a log house on the brow of a little hill in the clearing. The Confederates were posted be hind a fence a few rods beyond. We were exposed to a raking fire as we advanced. It seemed as if we would never get across. A man to my right got stuck in the mud and called for assistance. A corporal essayed to pull the comrade out. He succeeded, but the trooper's boots were left in the mud hole. Quite a number lost one boot and some both boots before they reached terra firma. But we came out in a zig-zag sort of a line after a while. We were nearly exhausted. There was a halt on the brow of the hill long enough to take observations of what was before us. Then we charged up to and over the fence from behind which the Johnnies skedaddled on the double quick. They rallied in the dense thicket, across a deep ravine, and returned our fire. Orders came to " hold the line at all hazards," and we were directed to crawl back over the fence, and keep up a steady fire on the rebels. Then we began to realize that we were occupying a position it would be extremely difficult to hold should the enemy come in on our left flank. We had time to catch our breath while 2 26 DOWN IN DIXIE. loading and firing from behind our rail-fence breastwork. We banged away whenever we saw a rebel in our front, and when we could not see their heads we fired into the bushes from whence came the bullets that were ping- pinging about our ears. A battery over on a hill back of the line occupied by the rebels in our immediate front, soon began to feel for us, and they managed to drop shot and shell in the field behind us, and altogether too close for our comfort. Every now and then a shell would explode against our fence, shattering the rails and wounding the troopers who were in line with the course of the shell. Soon after we took position along the line of the fence our ammunition began to run low. Each man had one hundred rounds extra in his saddle-bags, but our horses were somewhere in the woods back on the other side of the plowed field. " I'm loading with my last cartridge," exclaimed a trooper down toward the left. " Keep still, you jackass," interrupted a sergeant. " Do you want to tell the rebels about it ? " " No; but we'll be in a nice fix if the Johnnies come at us again." Several of the boys volunteered to go back to the horses and bring up a supply of ammunition. They started on a run, across the open space. Two or three reached the log house, and halted behind it, for the DOWN IN DIXIE. 227 rebels opened such a hot fire that it would have been almost certain death for the boys to venture from be hind the house. Others returned to the shelter of the fence. A man named Wilson was wounded near me, and up on the right the volunteers fared worse. " If the Johnnies want me they'll have to come over here and take me," said a young trooper who was re serving his last round for the rebel assault which we expected would not be long deferred. " I don't believe I could run through that mud hole again if every rebel in Lee's army was at my heels," said another. " Look over there — they're flanking us ! " Sure enough. About three hundred yards to our left we saw rebel cavalry moving across the low ground in the direction of the woods where we had dismounted and left our horses. To attract our attention from their flank movement the Confederates in our front kept firing away, and the battery sent over shot and shell. It was a very interest ing situation. A good many felt that our first battle would end in our capture unless something in our favor turned up without delay. " I wish they'd give the com mand 'prepare to mount,' " said a sergeant " How could you ' prepare to mount ' without your horse ? " asked a lieutenant. " I'd get where my horse was. Don't you see, such 2 28 DOWN IN DIXIE. a command wouldn't be an order to retreat — it might amount to the same thing, but it would take the curse off." But the command to fall back soon came. The rebels were getting well around to our rear, and our position was untenable. The boys went back over that plowed field, every man for himself, a regular go-as-you- please. I noticed that the troopers who had expressed doubts of their ability to go through the mud again were well in advance as we fell back. As we retreated from the fence the rebels closed up on the other side of it and our flight was stimulated by the bullets they sent after us. I fired my last round of ammunition as I reached the brow of the hill near the log house. Then I buckled down to business, and wallowed through the plowed fi.eld to the woods in the rear. We scattered as we fled, but all felt the importance of reaching our horses before they should be captured by the rebels on our flank. We came to the fence where we had dismounted, only to find a sergeant and two men of our regiment who had been left to pilot us to the spot where the animals had been taken for safety. The rebel battery had shelled the woods, compelling the men in charge of the horses to fall back up the turnpike out of range. We were well-nigh winded from our race across the field, but we knew we must go on or be captured. We went on. CHAPTER XV. The very Man Grant Wanted — Sheridan at the Head of the Cavalry — Lively Times in the Wilderness — Falling Back — Little Phil to the Rescue — A Close Call for the Doctors — The First Night After the Opening of the Fight — A Town in Mourning. •^^f^ HIL SHERIDAN never led his men into a ticklish place and left them to get out by themselves. He never sent his soldiers on a dangerous expedition with out arranging to have assistance at hand if there was a suspicion that help would be needed. And he never asked his men to go where he was not willing to go himself. I wish I had known all this on the morning of Thursday, May 5, 1864. It would have saved me from a great deal of worry about the fate of the cavalry corps in the Wilderness, and also from no little anxiety as to what was to become of the youngest trooper in Com pany I, First Massachusetts cavalry. But Sheridan was 229 230 DOWN IN DIXIE. new to the Army of the Potomac. He came East with- Grant. The old soldiers in our brigade had done con siderable kicking because a number of cavalry generals who had raided around in Virginia, had been jumped by Sheridan. Gen. Grant in his " Memoirs," says, referring to his assuming command of the Army of the Potomac: " In one of my early interviews with the President, I ex pressed my dissatisfaction with the little that had been accomplished by the cavalry so far in the war, and the belief that it was capable of accomplishing much more than it had done if under a thorough leader. I said I wanted the very best man in the army for that com mand. Halleck was present, and spoke up, saying, ' How would Sheridan do ? ' I replied, ' The very man I want.' The President said I could have any body I wanted. Sheridan was telegraphed for that day, and on his arrival was assigned to the cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac." Grant was right — he was always right — and Little Phil not only proved a thorough leader of the cavalry corps, but he demonstrated his ability to command an army in one of the most successful campaigns of the war. "Where are our bosses?" demanded a Berkshire boy, who was one of the first to come up with the ser geant and two men left to guide us to the reserve, as stated in the last chapter. DOWN IN DIXIE. 231 " In the woods back up the turnpike about a mile." " This is a nice way to treat American soldiers ! " exclaimed a corporal, who had left both his boots in the mud in the plowed field. " I can't run through black berry brush barefooted ! " " I'm going to camp here till they bring back my horse and something to eat. I didn't enlist to caper around on foot in such a place as this," said another. I volunteered to take the sergeant's steed and go and see that the horses were sent to meet us, but at that moment there was heard the noise of the rebel cavalry coming in on our flank crashing through the bushes. " You couldn't manage my horse — he's so fiery," said the sergeant. " I can't hold him when he takes it into his head to go where the other horses are." 'Away went the sergeant and the two men who had been left with him, on a gallop up the road. " Follow me ! " shouted the sergeant, as he put spurs to his charger. We followed. As the sergeant and his two companions turned a bend in the road, rebel cavalrymen, who had penetrated the jungle almost to the turnpike, opened fire on the three troopers. It was a race for life. The bullets whistled close to the ears of the Federals as they dashed .by the Johnnies in ambush. Then the saddle girth of 232 DOWN IN DIXIE. one of the privates gave way, and the terrified trooper was left sitting on his saddle in the middle of the road, his horse going on with the procession. He shouted, " Whoa ! " The " rebel yell " went up as the Yankee went down. It stimulated him to the greatest effort of his life. Springing to his feet he held the saddle be tween his head and the Confederates to shield off their bullets, and darted into the bushes to the left' of the turnpike. As he reached the thicket he threw the sad dle back into the road and shouted defiantly at his would-be executioners : " Take the old saddle, you infernal asses. I've got no use for it without a horse ! " Then he bounded away through the forest, keeping well to the left of the road. He was a pitiable sight when he rejoined the company that night. His clothes were literally torn off. He would not have been pre sentable at all if an artilleryman had not given him a spare shirt. It may be stated that several others reported to their company commander in about the same fix. Some of us had taken such a deep interest in what was going on up the turnpike, that we almost forgot the rebe.ls who were looking for us. I remember that I laughed, tired and concerned for my own safety though I was. The ludicrous figure cut by our com rade as he glanced around him when he landed in the DOWN IN DIXIE. 233 road and yelled " Whoa ! " — as if a runaway horse would stop under such circumstances — was too much for my risibility. But I did not have my laugh out. It was interrupted by one of our sergeants shouting: " Streak it, boys — here they come ! " We made nearly as good time in getting away from that place as the mounted troopers had scored, and for the same reason. The butternut-clad cavalrymen fired their carbines- almost in our faces at the first round. We needed no further notice to take to the woods. It was entirely unnecessary for " our six-footer corporal " to urge us to " remember Lot's wife," as he led the re treat over the brow of the hill and bounded down the slope out of range. As I halted after crossing the divide to catch my breath, a terrible racket broke out in the woods to the right. As near as I could judge, not having paid much attention to the points of the compass, there was trouble somewhere in the vicinity of the turnpike where we had parted with the Confederates. There was no mistaking the sounds. There was fighting out there in the woods, and the cheering of Federal cavalrymen was heard above the yell of our late pursuers. " We're licking 'em out o' their boots ! " said my bunkey, who had kept neck and neck with me through the woods. " That's what we're doing." 2 34 DOWN IN DIXIE. " I'd go back and take a hand if I had a horse." " So would I." Several of our boys ventured to the top of the hill, and then along the ridge toward the turnpike. They soon came to a rail fence, and on the other side of it was a squadron of Federal cavalry drawn up in line. It did not take us long to introduce ourselves. We ascertained from the troopers who belonged to the Tenth New York that our regiment was. on the other side of the road about a quarter of a mile north. By this time the firing on our front had dwindled down to irregular skirmishing. As we were getting over the fence to go in the direction pointed out Sheridan rode up. He came from the front, and was greeted with a hearty cheer that was echoed by cavalry posted away to the left, and also by those of us who had breath enough left to shout. " Little Phil " waved his hat, which he was holding in his hand. " Our line is all right, boys," and he galloped up the turnpike to report to Grant, who was at Meade's headquarters. Sheridan had inflicted severe punishment on the rebel cavalry that had come in on our flank. He was informed of the condition of affairs at the front, and at the time our battalion was ordered to fall back, a line had been formed further up the turnpike ready to DOWN IN DIXIE. 235 receive the rebels. The road was left clear, and as Hampton's " critter companies " followed the dis mounted Union troopers, they fell into the trap. Then they went back faster than they had come. Sheridan's troopers charged, and the chagrined gray-coats were driven way beyond the ravine where our battalion had held the line of the rail fence before our ammunition failed. As the memory of that day's events comes to me now, there is a sprinkling of regret that I was forced to "streak it" through the Wilderness. It completely destroyed my confidence in the ability of our regiment to put down the rebellion, single-handed at one fell swoop. And, moreover, a good many of us were almost naked when we reached the horses after our run through the forest. Yet it was necessary that sacrifices should be made. Sheridan was fishing with live bait, and it was part of the programme that the bait should be kept moving. When I reached my company, which was waiting orders near the turnpike leading to Todd's Tavern, I was informed that my horse had been killed by a shell while the animals were being led to the rear. I felt the loss of my horse keenly. And then my saddle-bags were gone, with the picture of my best girl and other memories of home. Orders came for the regiment to move a little further 236 DOWN IN DIXIE. to the left An infantry brigade was forming on our right. There had been serious business on the other side of a strip of woods to the right of the line occupied by the cavalry. Wounded men were carried to the rear on stretchers. Several army surgeons had ventured to establish a field hospital well up to the front line. The Johnnies may have had a hankering for the medical stores in the hospital chests that were unpacked so temptingly near the enemy, for they made a dash for the wagons. But this time the Confederates made a mistake. The infantry holding the line in front of the " doctors' den " peppered the gray-coats until the would-be consumers of United Sia.\.&?,-.spiritus fermenti w&re glad to turn and get back out of range as fast as their legs- could carry them. The narrow escape of the medical men showed that they had spread out their operating instruments too near the enemy, and the base of operations was removed over a hill to the rear. There was a stampede when the rebels charged to break the line in front of the field hospital, and a horse belonging to one of the surgeons dashed down the turnpike. The infantrymen made no effort to stop the animal — the average foot soldier was afraid of a horse — and it occurred to me that the horse was just about what I needed to complete my outfit. My heart beat a double tattoo as I attempted to spread myself across the road to intercept the runaway. He DOWN IN DIXIE. 237 came on at full speed, but as he shied toward the fence to pass by me, I was fortunate enough to catch the bridle rein, and that horse was mine — till further orders. I examined the saddle girths and found everything in good shape. After I had taken up the stirrup straps — the doctor's legs were considerably longer than mine — I mounted the prize, and once more felt there was a i -ia V / J , 4 TAKING POSSESSION OF THE RUNAWAY. possibility that the Southern Confederacy might be con quered ! Then I took an inventory of the contents of the doctor's saddle-bags. There was a bottle of hospital brandy in one of the bags. It was the " genuine stuff," as Sergeant Warren remarked that night when I allowed him to sample it. I investigated further and found a field glass, several boxes of pills, a few rolls of bandages 238 DOWN IN DIXIE. and lint, with a small case of instruments. There were two six-shooters in the holsters on the pommel of the saddle, and a surgeon's regulation sword fastened on the left side. A canteen, and a haversack containing a couple of ham sandwiches, a piece of cheese and a can of condensed milk were included in the outfit. I whistled dinner call at once, and made an excellent meal on what the medical man had provided for his supper. Then I rejoined my company. The Wilderness was full of terror when night came on and spread its mantle of darkness over the scenes of bloodshed. On every hand could be heard the groans of the wounded and dying. The gathering of the un fortunates went on all night, and the poor fellows were borne to the field hospitals. There was heavy firing at intervals. Here and there the bivouac fires lighted up the otherwise Eygptian darkness and served to make the shadows all the darker, and to give the surroundings a weird and dismal aspect. It seemed as if daylight would never return. When it did break we hailed it joyfully, although we knew that the light of the new born day would witness a renewal of the conflict. We did not unsaddle our horses that night, but along about midnight we were given an opportunity to feed our chargers and make coffee for ourselves. Pre ceding the feed the company rolls were called by the first sergeants. In Company I not more than fifty per DOWN IN DIXIE. 239 cent, of the number on the roll responded — I mean of the number that had charged down the turnpike Thurs day morning. A majority of the boys who failed to show up at the first roll-call in the Wilderness put in an appearance later on. It was the same with other regiments. In a battle like that of the Wilderness there was a good deal of the go-as-you-please, especially if there were charges and re treats and frequent changes in formations. Details would be made from companies for skirmishes and other duties, and the men so detailed when they re turned were unable to find their companies, their reo-i- ments having been transferred to another part of the field. I recall an incident of the Battle of the Wilderness that was the cause of a whole town going into mourning : Company B of the One hundred and twenty-fifth New York Volunteers contained many Berlin boys. In one of the movements in the Wilderness that regiment marched past the First Massachusetts. I was on the watch for Company B. I think it was after the second day's battle. The One hundred and twenty-fifth had been fighting furiously somewhere near the Brock road, and the slaughter had been great. The ranks of the regiment were depleted, and when I spotted the Berlin boys I saw that B Company had suffered badly. There were only two or three faces that I recognized. Rube Fry was one, I think. 240 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Halloo, Company B ! " " Halloo ! — there's Alex Allen's boy." " Where's the rest of the company — the Berlin boys ? " " All killed but six." " It will be sad news for Berlin." " Yes ; and it will be a wonder if any of us escape if we don't get out of the Wilderness pretty soon." " It will indeed." " Good-by." " Good-by, Rube. I'll write home if 1 get a chance." I got the chance the day that we started on Sheri dan's raid — May 8. I wrote the news just as I had received it. There was mourning all over the town when that letter reached Berlin. The news from the front was contradicted, however, soon after by letters from several of the boys who had been included in the list of casualties I had sent home. It seems that a part of the One hundred and twenty-fifth was sent on picket duty to the left, and a charge had been made by the men not included in the detail. Lieut.-Col. A. B. Myer and thirty-four men out of one hundred and four who made the charge were killed. Somehow the report had been started that all the rest of the regiment had been killed or wounded or taken prisoners. I was re joiced to learn when I next met the One hundred and twenty-fifth, after Sheridan's raid, that the report of DOWN IN DIXIE. 241 the casualties in Company B sent home in my letter after the Battle of the Wilderness was exaggerated. I find in the roster of B Company as given in the history of the One hundred and twenty-fifth New York Volunteers by Chaplain Ezra D. Simons of that regiment, that none of B Company was killed in the Wilderness, and only five were wounded. But B Company did not escape so luckily in the battle of Spottsylvania, following close on the heels of the Wilderness. Several were killed outright and a number wounded. The company lost twenty-four men, killed and died, during its service — a number far above the average of companies throughout the army. The One hundred and twenty-fifth made a splendid record. I was always glad to run across the regiment at the front, and to compare notes with the Berlin boys in Company B. CHAPTER XVL A Council of War — Observations at Daylight — The Second Day in the Wilderness -~ Not to Fall Back — The Rebel Yell — The Third Day — Custer at Work — An Ideal Cavalry Officer. T daybreak we expected to renew the Battle of the Wilderness — if the rebels did not pitch into us again during the night. The enlisted men of our com pany held a council of war before any of them availed themselves of the privi lege of turning in for a snooze. " I wonder if the Johnnies will skedaddle before morning ? " said one of the boys who had been back at Ely's ford and had not participated in the first day's fight.- " You had better take a sleep. We'll call you if the enemy shows up before reveille." " All right, here goes. I can sleep one night more with a clear conscience, for my hands have not been stained with the blood of a single enemy." 242 DOWN IN DIXIE. 243 Of course, these remarks were made jokingly. No matter how serious the situation might be, there was always a disposition among the soldiers to make light of it. After the " re-ehforcement " had retired the coun cil was continued. " I don't think it's fair to ask the cavalry to fight on foot as we did yesterday." " But what else could we do when we come to that high fence ? " " We might have stopped and waited for the Johnnies to charge us." " Well, I guess Phil Sheridan knows how to fight his men better'n we know ourselves." " We'll have another fight in the morning." " Certainly." "And there'll be more of us killed and wounded." " Yes." " I wonder whether we're whipped, or the rebels have got the worst of it ? " " Can't tell till daylight, we're all mixed up so." " But Grant must know." " That's so — but where's Grant?" " He's with Meade back near that old quartz mill where we had dinner the day we crossed the Rapidan." " The lieutenant told me that Grant's orders are for our side to make an attack at three o'clock." " Then we're not whipped." 244 DOWN IN DIXIE. " Not if we've got orders to open the ball in the morning. Let's get what rest we can." " All right." About three o'clock Friday' morning — we were taking turns in sleeping — I called upon my bunkey to "get out of bed and let me get in." " I haven't been asleep yet" " That's your own fault; you've had time enough." " I was just getting good and sleepy — but I'm not piggish. Take the bed." I stretched myself on the piece of tent, and tried to go to sleep. But it was no easy thing to settle down. The events of the day — the attack on our picket line, charging down the turnpike, exciting experiences at the rail fence, fighting on foot, charging across the plowed field, holding the enemy in check, falling back when flanked by the rebels, Sheridan's punishment of our pursuers — all crowded themselves to the front, and it seemed a year since we broke camp at Warrenton. I had never been in a pitched battle before, and I tried to remember the events in their order that I might be able to write them down as a basis for a letter to friends at home. The more I tried to straighten things out the more I got mixed. I dropped to sleep, but just as I was describing the battle to a group of villagers at Berlin, I was brought suddenly back to the front by a sergeant who was poking me with his s^ber scabbard. DOWN IN DIXIE. 245 " Private Allen, turn out for picket." " But I've only just turned in. There's my bunkey; can't you take him ? he's already turned out after a good long nap " — " No back talk, out with you ! " I was on my feet as soon as I awoke sufficiently to realize the situation. " Mount your horse, and report to Sergeant Murphy out there in the road. Is your cartridge box full ? " " Yes, sir." " Hundred rounds extra in your saddle-bags ? " " Yes, sir." " Mount at will, and go ahead." Sergeant Murphy took charge of a detail from sev eral companies. We rode down the road a few rods, and a staff officer then assumed command of the detachment. " We're to go, out beyond the picket line and watch the movements of the rebels at daybreak," the lieutenant informed Sergeant Murphy. In fifteen minutes we were at the last picket post out toward Todd's Tavern. " Detail a man to ride ahead. Sergeant," the officer directed. I had ridden close up to the officer to hear all I could about the prospects of a fight and the sergeant detailed me. 246 DOWN IN DIXIE. " The object of keeping a man well to the front," the officer said to the sergeant, " is to draw the enemy's fire should we run into the rebel pickets, and thus pre vent the detachment from falling into an ambush." " Very proper, sir," assented the sergeant. " You will ride down the road, keeping a hundred yards or so from the head of the column," the lieuten ant said to me. " Load your carbine and keep it ready for use, but don't fire unless the enemy opens on you, for it is desired to secure a favorable position for watch ing the movements of the rebels as soon as it is light enough." It was quite dark down there in the woods. I did not take kindly to the thought that I was to be used as a target for the rebel pickets. This riding to the front to draw the enemy's fire was a new experience to me. But I tried to comfort myself with the hope that we were so far out on the left that we would not encounter the Confederates. The advance business was as new to the doctor's horse as it was to me. I had to use my spurs freely to induce him to go down the road ahead of the other horses. We got started after a while, and the still hunt for Lee's right and rear was begun. It was lonesome work for man and beast. Suddenly, and without any intimation of what he intended to do, the horse began to neigh. It may have been in the {^: , '¦¦tiifhifir-i DOWN IN DIXIE. 249 animal's " ordinary tone of voice," but to rhe it seemed to be loud enough to be heard way back to the Rapi dan. I expected the Johnnies would open fire at once. The staff officer rode up to me — after waiting long enough for me to draw the enemy's fire if they were close at hand — and said : "What's the matter?" " Horse ' whickered,' sir." " What made him ? " " Can't tell, sir; he broke out without any notice." " Ever do it before ? " " Don't know. I only got him yesterday afternoon. He belonged to an infantry doctor who was shot." " That accounts for it ; a doughboy horse don't know anything about this kind of work ! Take your place at the rear of the detachment and if that horse neighs' again, break his head with your carbine." " All right sir." Another man was sent to the front, and we moved on. We did not run into the rebel pickets, and the officer said we must be further to the left than the right of Lee's line. We halted on the top of a hill where the road turned westward and waited for daylight. As soon as it became light enough for the officer to take observations with his field-glass, he rode to the highest point he could find and surveyed the broken country in our front. He could not see far in any 250 DOWN IN DIXIE. direction, as the woods were thick and there was little cleared land. " Come here. Sergeant," the lieutenant called to Murphy, after looking off to the west for a few seconds through his glass. " Look over there." " Rebels, sir," said the sergeant. " Yes ; cavalry moving over this way. We will re turn at once." We went back up the turnpike at a gallop. " What's up ? " inquired the officer in charge of the outposts when we reached our pickets. " The rebels are up and moving around to get on our left flank. Keep a good lookout and be ready to move at once. I will report to Gen. Sheridan, and there will soon be lively work." Sheridan's cavalry was in the saddle and en route to Todd's Tavern within twenty minutes after our return from the reconnaissance in that direction. The cavalry was to connect with the left of the infantry commanded by Gen. Hancock. The staff officer's prediction that there would be lively work on our left was fulfilled. Sheridan was in time to intercept Stuart's advance along the Furnace road, a few miles northwest of Todd's Tavern. It was hot work. There was desperate fighting as the troopers came together at the intersection of the Brock and the Fur nace roads. Jeb Stuart's attempt to get around in our DOWN IN DIXIE. 251 rear to make a dash on the wagon trains of the Army of the Potomac, and to smash things generally, was a complete failure. He was driven back from the Fur nace road, and after a stubborn stand at Todd's Tavern the rebel cavalry leader was forced to call off his troops and fall back from Sheridan's immediate front. In the afternoon, having been re-enforced, and after being ordered by Lee to turn Grant's left, Stuart again attacked the Federal troopers. He was assisted by in- fantiy, but Little Phil refused to budge an inch from the position held at Todd's Tavern. The rebels were driven back with heavy loss. In the meantime the entire army was engaged, and the fighting was con tinued all day. A rebel trooper of Fitzhugh Lee's division, taken prisoner the evening of May 6, inquired : " Who's you all fightin' under this time ? " " Grant." " I reckoned so ; but who's- overseer of the critter companies ? " " Sheridan." " He's a doggoned good 'un. Fitz Lee knew what he was talkin' 'bout when he told Wade Hampton that we all would be 'bliged to take care of our own flanks this trip." " You're right, Johnny." " Be you all headed for Richmond, sure 'nough ? " 252 DOWN IN DIXIE. " That's where we're going." " But what be you all to do with me ? " " We'll send you North, and let you live on the fat of the land till we gobble up the rest of the rebel army." " Stranger, do you mean it ? " " Certainly." " Hallelujah ! I'm ready to be fatted. Where's you all's commissary department ? " He was sent to the rear with the other prisoners. At the close of the second day's battle in the Wil derness, the report was current among the troopers of Sheridan's cavalry corps, that the Army of the Potomac would retire from the front of Lee's army in that Vir ginia jungle and fall back to Fredericksburg, which would be occupied as a new base of supplies pending the re-organization of the army to again move " On to Richmond ! " There is no denying the fact that the Army of the Potomac was seriously crippled. An order to fall back to the north bank of the Rapidan would have been ac cepted as a matter of course had the new commander directed such a movement. But if some of the soldiers had known Grant better, they would have spent less time that night in speculating whether the line of re treat would be by the Germania plank road or over the route to Ely's ford. It turned out that Grant did not discover that the DOWN IN DIXIE. 253 " Yankees were whipped in the Wilderness " until he read an account of the " rout of the Federal army " in a Richmond paper at Spottsylvania a few days later. Of course, it was then too late for the Union commander to use the information to any advantage. It may be re marked also, that Lee had not heard of Grant's defeat until he received the news via the rebel capital. There was a disposition on the part of a few brigades on the Union right to get back across the Rapidan without waiting for orders Friday night. Gen. Gordon of Georgia made a desperate effort to demor alize the Federals by charging Grant's right, coming in on the flank. He gobbled up a brigade or two, and sent a good many blue-coats flying back toward the river. But the fugitives could not find their way out of the Wilderness, and they halted before going far, for fear they would get turned around and run into the enemy. The gallant Sedgwick again demonstrated his fighting qualities. He did not intend that the colors of the sixth corps — the banner with the Greek cross — should go down. Sedgwick brought order out of chaos. He drove back the Confederates and saved the day — or the night as Gordon's charge was made after dark ness had set in. Every hour or so during the night, the Johnnies would give us the rebel yell. These outbreaks occa sioned alarm on our side at first, but after the terrible 2 54 DOWN IN DIXIE. din had died out several times without the appearance of the boys in butternut, we concluded that the enemy was shouting to keep up courage for a general attack in the morning. We had no opportunity to sleep — I mean to go into camp and stretch our weary bodies at full length on the ground for a season. About the time we would begin to congratulate ourselves on the prospects of a nap we would be ordered into the saddle, ready to repel an attack. There were any number of false alarms. Old soldiers will remember how exasperating it was to be hustled out at the dead of night, marched here and there — " up and down and through the middle " — only to find that somebody had made a bull. We marched several times during the night, sometimes going a hun dred yards. When daylight came Saturday morning we found ourselves within three hundred yards of the spot where we bivouacked Friday night. We had been moved around like men on a checker-board — one man trying to catch another in the double corner, so to speak ; " hawing and geeing," as a Berkshire boy expressed it The Battle of the Wilderness ended Friday night from an infantry standpoint but Sheridan's cavalry had fighting enough Saturday to prevent them from getting rusty. We were given to understand early in the morn ing that the army was to go on. While the infantry were cutting the pegs out of their shoes, and buryino- DOWN IN DIXIE. 255 the dead Saturday, the troopers were feeling the enemy over on the left toward Spottsylvania. There was a good deal of trouble in locating Lee's line of battle. The rebels had not felt safe outside their breastworks after Gordon had failed to double up our right. When they were found by our pickets Saturday morning, they seemed to have lost their thirst for Yankee blood so far as coming outside to rebuke pur curiosity was con cerned. A reconnaissance by Gen. Warren of the Fifth Corps occasioned a suspicion that the infantry were at it again, as the firing was lively in Warren's front for a few minutes. Lee did not accept the chal lenge, and no general engagement was brought on. There was a sharp set-to between Stuart's cavalry and the first brigade of the first division of Sheridan's corps, commanded by Gen. G. A. Custer, early Saturday morning. The rebels found Custer an ugly customer. They skedaddled to Todd'sTavern, after vainly trying to check the advance of the boys in blue. Gen. Custer was an ideal cavalry officer. He was something like six feet in height, and sat his horse per fectly. He was one of the youngest generals in the army, having won the star of a brigadier before he was twenty-four years old. His pleasant blue eye seemed to fire up with the first intimation of battle. His appear ance was all the more striking- because of his long wavy hair and his dashing make-up, which included a 256 DOWN IN DIXIE. large red necktie. His brigade adopted the red tie as a part of their uniform, and Custer's troops could be distinguished at long range. It was a common saying in the cavalry corps that the rebels preferred to have nothing to do with Custer's brigade except at " long- range," and therein the Confederates exhibited excellent judgment. Custer was a favorite in the regular army after the war, and his death — in the Custer massacre in 1876 — was mourned by soldiers and civilians throughout the United States. CHAPTER XVII. Observations in the Wilderness — Sounds of Battle — News from the Front — The Baptism of Fire — A Wilderness of Woe — The Best Cavalry General — A Tribute to Little Phil. O the third battalion of the First Mas sachusetts cavalry the Battle of the Wil derness was the most interesting and exciting event of the war. The battalion was hustled around so lively from the time the first shot was fired in our front ^'^ ' till the battle was over, that there was little chance for the troopers to take an inventory of themselves and their belongings. As I recall the scenes and try to pass them in review with a simple allusion to the most prominent features, it is difficult to reconcile the facts or to believe that so much could have taken place in so short a time. Yet the facts will not give way, although the events of a lifetime, as memory brings them forward, seem to have been crowded into that first day's battle, to say nothing about what took place 257 258 DOWN IN DIXIE. the next day and the succeeding days of the spring campaign. I have read accounts of the Battle of the Wilderness — and of many other leading engagements of the rebel lion — in which the writers described with minuteness, and in the most graphic manner, all that was done on different parts of the field from the opening to the end of the conflict. Such description is always 'interesting, but when a writer requests his readers to accept the statement that he was an eyewitness to all that hap pened in the Wilderness or in any other large battle, the reader is justified in calling a halt. Of course, after the battle was over and corps, division, brigade and regimental commanders had submitted detailed reports, accompanied by maps, etc., giving full information of the movements of troops, a pretty accurate account of the battle as a whole could be made up. Gen. Grant was at Meade's headquarters, one of the best points of observation on the whole field, during a good share of the time while the Battle of the Wilderness was going on, and even from that spot the general com manding could not see any of the troops in the main line of battle without going forward into the woods. It cannot be expected, then, that a young recruit, whose personal safety was a matter of no Uttle concern, could have had better opportunities for observation in the Battle of the Wilderness than were obtained by the DOWN IN DIXIE. 259 Union commander. However, it was not necessary to go away from that portion of the line held by Sheridan's cavalry to gather material enough for a volume. I took in more than enough, personally, with my limited means of observation, to fill ten times the space allotted to " Down in Dixie." In that almost impenetrable forest it was next to im possible for one regiment to know what was going on among neighbors to the right or the left. It was a sort of touch-elbow relation that organizations had with each other. The man on the right of each regiment was sujaposed to keep close in to the right within a few feet at least of the man on the left of the regiment to the right, to prevent the enemy from stealing through gaps in the line and getting into our rear. This arrangement was absolutely necessary to maintain anything like a solid front. At times when the firing was exceedingly brisk, and there were charges and counter-charges at any point, the troops so engaged could form no sort of an idea which side was getting the better of it on other parts of the battlefield. The noise of battle close at hand drowned the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry comparatively only a short distance away. When there was a lull in the fight anywhere, soldiers who were not actively engaged for the time being could " read the sounds," if the expression will pass muster, and thus ob- 260 DOWN IN DIXIE. tain a tolerably fair understanding of the condition of affairs on their right and left. The irregular scattering discharge of rifles indicated that the skirmishers were exchanging shots. The con tinuous roll of musketry developing into an almost deafening roar, above which could be heard now and then the hearty cheers of the boys in blue or the rebel yell of the butternut-clad warriors, gave warning that the battle was on in earnest. When the rapid firing of artillery added to the fearful din, until an indescribable roar went up from the terrible cyclone of death, it was known that a charge had been ordered, and that desper ate effort was being made for the mastery. It did not require much stretching of the imagination to hear the crash at a distance when the opposing lines came into collision. It was a moment of the greatest suspense while listening with every nerve strained to catch the sound of victory. If there ever was a time when the North American soldiers — Federal and Confederate — pricked up their ears and listened for news from the fight it was when a charge had been made and they were waiting the an nouncement of the result At such times the cheer of the soldiers was set on a hair trigger. The participants in the hand-to-hand struggle — the victorious partici pants — would shout themselves hoarse as the enemy was hurled back and the banners of the conquerors DOWN IN DIXIE. 261 were planted on the captured lines. And the cheer was contagious. It would be taken up by the comrades on the right and left and along the line it would go until the inspiration would be felt among all the troops. Soldiers who were desperately wounded and even while undergoing operations in the hands of the surgeons, were known to join in the glad acclaim when the echo of the hurrahs reached the field hospitals. But it made all the difference in the world to the soldiers holding the line to the right or to the left of the strategic point which side whipped. If our boys took up the shout and passed it along the line it meant that the advantage had been gained by the Union forces. And in such cases the glad tidings proved an incentive to the troops in reserve to pitch into the rebels in their front and serve them as their comrades had already been served by the Federals. On the other hand, when the result of the conflict was made known to the Yan kees by way of the rebel line in our front, it was natu rally expected that the Johnnies would pitch into us, and we governed ourselves accordingly. Survivors of the Battle of the Wilderness will bear testimony that they never took part in a fight that was more stubbornly waged on both sides. Veterans of the Army of the Potomac who had faced death on the Pe ninsula, at Fredericksburg, Antietam and Gettysburg, and had become familiar with all the horrors of war. 262 DOWN IN DIXIE. declared that the two days' hand-to-hand conflict in the Wilderness witnessed scenes of carnage the like of which had not been known in all the history of the rebellion up to that time. The awful screeching of shot and shell, the ping- pinging of the missiles of death from tens of thousands of muskets, the groans of the wounded, the cheers of victory as the blue or the gray gained a temporar}^ ad vantage, the yells of defiance as either line was pressed back from positions captured at the expense of hundreds of lives, the heart-rending cries for water by wounded and dying — all these are recalled at the present writing. The agonizing shrieks of the helpless men who per ished in the flames in that wilderness of woe, are not forgotten. They never will be forgotten this side of eternity. Hundreds of the wounded were burned to death, the underbrush and trees taking fire during the battle. Soldiers temporarily crippled by shot and shell, bayonet thrust and saber-stroke — many of whom would have recovered under the ordinary circumstances of war — were swallowed up by that wave of fire that swept a portion of the battlefield and drove back the Federals where Lee's veterans had vainly sought to break the Union line. Heroic efforts were made to carry off the wounded, but the flames spread so rapidly that it was impossible to reach only those who were at a consider able distance from the point where the fire started. In IN THE WILDERNESS. DOWN IN DIXIE. 265 some instances the clothes of men who plunged into the burning forest and attempted to save their wounded comrades were burned from their bodies, and many lost their lives while endeavoring to rescue their disabled companions. At one point on the line Union and Con federate dead and wounded were cremated together. The wisdom of the thorough organization of the cavalry corps, and the assignment of Phil Sheridan to its command, was fully demonstrated on the very first occa sion that the Federal troopers came in contact with the enemy's cavalry. Grant was always the right man in the right place, and he possessed, most fortunately, the faculty of discovering who among his subordinates were best fitted to command at critical periods. Wade Hampton's " critter companies," as the Confederate cav alry was designated by the butternut-clad foot-soldiers, had played havoc with the flanks of the Army of the Potomac in other campaigns. And here they were, ready to cut all around Grant's flanks and put to flight any blue-coated troopers that might come in their way. But Hampton and his followers had substantial reason for changing their estimate of the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac, dating from the first skirmish in the Wilderness. There is no question that Sheridan was the best cavalry general of modern times — of all time, for that matter. And as a commander of separate armies he 266 DOWN IN DIXIE. was equal to every emergency, displaying superior generalship. Gallant Little Phil is out of the Wilderness. The war is over. He has gone home. Survivors of the cav alry corps of the Army of the Potomac had waited with sad hearts for the news that all felt was sure to come from the little cottage at Nonquitt — waited as they had done through those anxious days in July, 1885, when the hero of Appomattox lay dying in a quiet cottage on the summit of Mount MacGregor. If Phil Sheridan had never achieved glorious vic tories on his own hook ; had he fought all his battles as a subordinate under the immediate direction of the commander-in-chief; had he never attained to high rank as a partial reward for gallant and meritorious services — the fact that Grant loved him would have been suffi cient to endear the cavalry commander to the comrades who followed his lead from the Wilderness to Appomat tox. But the troops loved Sheridan for himselt They fairly idolized him. They had the most implicit faith in him as a commander. His presence inspired them to deeds of daring ; they were ready to go anywhere — into the jaws of death — if he but said the word. Little Phil's last battle was fought on ground that could not be reconnoitered by his troopers. Many of them, however, preceded him down into the Wilderness of Death. They came not back to report. Others DOWN IN DIXIE. 267 waited for the " news from the front" knowing that as long as there was a fighting chance the brave comrade would fight on. It was a struggle for life — a struggle in which the odds were too heavy. When the time' came to " enter the Wilderness " Sheridan met death calmly. There was no flinching. He had never dis obeyed orders. He was always ready to respond to calls from higher authority. The call came ; and Sheri dan was mustered out. When the life spark was extinguished — at ten-fif teen o'clock Sunday night, August 5, 1888 — a noble soldier stood on the shores of eternity. His body has been consigned to the tomb, but his name is inscribed on the pages of his country's history beside the names of Lincoln and Grant. His name and fame will always be cherished by patriots. Old soldiers who battled un der Sheridan have told the story of his grand achieve ments to children and grandchildren. Sheridan's ride is one of the landmarks, so to speak, of the handed-down history of the great Civil War. As the old troopers' fathers and grandfathers handed down to them the story ¦of Bunker Hill, of Yorktown and of other revolutionary •conflicts, so have the gray-haired veterans of Sheridan's ¦cavalry corps told of Todd's Tavern, the Wilderness, Sheridan's raid. Yellow Tavern and other battles in which Little Phil led them to victory. In song and :story his deeds are commemorated all over the land. CHAPTER XVIII. Feeling Around Lee' s Right — Fighting at Todd' s Tavern — Out of the Wilderness — Sheridan Ordered to Cut Loose — A Peppery Interview — " / can Whip Stuart" — " Go Out and Do it." ATURDAY, May 7, Sheridan fought the rebels at Todd's Tavern again. And it was no inconsiderable affair. There was the liveliest kind of fighting for a time. Grant did not intend to go into camp in the Wilderness, even if Lee was willing to let the Union army alone pending repairs to the rebel cause. Not a bit of it. The Federal commander's determination was to go " on to Richmond," and if Lee chose to get in the way, that was the Confederate general's lookout. It was to open the road for the advance of the infantry that Sheridan was directed to feel around the enemy's right and. get the lay of the land out toward Spottsylvania. It was delicate work. The Johnnies were ugly. 268 DOWN IN DIXIE. 269 Although Lee had called off his forces and retired be hind his breastworks in the Wilderness, the rebels gave us warning every time we dashed across the little open spaces bordering the Brock road, that their cartridge boxes had been replenished and were full. But Sheri dan hustled the enemy back from Todd'sTavern. Our line was strengthened out there on the left, and when the sun went down Saturday evening it set upon the last hopes of the rebels that the Army of the Potomac would fall back across the Rapidan. Grant visited the extreme left of his line Saturday night. Our brigade was ordered forward on the Brock road toward Spottsylvania. We exchanged shots with the rebels in the woods several times. It was dangerous business. We could not distinguish friend from foe. Grant reached Todd's Tavern soon after our advance was made, and remained there till Sunday morning, when he pushed on to Piney Grove meeting house on the Catharpin road, near the Ny River, to which point Meade's headquarters had been removed during the night. The Army of the Potomac was on the move, and pushing for Spottsylvania. Wilson's division scouted out to Spottsylvania, and occupied the " town " for a time. There*was a change in the order, we were told, so that Sheridan was not sent forward to hold Spottsylvania. At any rate, when the infantry reached the vicinity of the court house 270 DOWN IN DIXIE. Sunday morning, they found the rebels square across their front with a substantial line of breastworks well under way. Grant ordered Sheridan, on May 8, to cut loose from the Army of the Potomac and look after l^ee's communications and Stuart's cavalry. There is no question that the raid was precipitated by an interview between Little Phil and Gen. Meade in respect of the latter's changing Sheridan's orders for the movements of the cavalry to hold Spottsylvania. Grant and Sheridan agree that if the plan of the commander of the cavalry corps had been adhered to, and Sheridan had been permitted to handle his three divisions, bringing Gregg and Merritt to Wilson's sup port at Spottsylvania, holding the bridge over the Po River, the battle of Spottsylvania would have been fought, if fought at all, under circumstances entirely different — the odds would have been heavy against Lee, as Grant would have been first on the ground and in time to throw up breastworks. Sheridan's account of his interview with the com mander of the Army of the Potomac is spicily told in his "Memoirs." It took place on May 8, soon after it was found that Lee's troops were in possession of Spottsyl vania. Says 31:ieridan : " A little before noon Gen. Meade sent for me, and when I reached his head quarters I found that his peppery temper had got the best of his good judgment he showing a disposition to be unjust, laying blame here and there for the blun-