"Colonel," said the General, pulling vigorously at the same time at the left side of his moustache, as if anxious that his teeth should take hold of it, "I have sent for you in regard to this Record. Do you know, sir, that this Record has given me a d——d sight of trouble; why, sir, I consulted authorities the greater part of last night, French and American."

"In regard to what point, General?"

"In regard to what point? In regard to all the points, sir. There, sir, is the copy made of that order detailing the Court. It reads, 'Detailed for the Court,' whereas it should be 'Detail for the Court.' My mind is not made up fully as to whether the variance vitiates the Record or not. The authorities appear to be silent upon that point. To say the least, it is d——d awkward."

"General, the copy is a faithful one of the order issued from your Head-Quarters."

"From my Head-Quarters, sir? By G—d, Colonel, that can't be. If I have been particular, and have prided myself upon any one thing, it has been upon having papers drawn strictly according to the Regulations. And I have tried to impress it upon my clerks. That infernal blunder made at my Head-Quarters! I'll soon see how that is." And the General, Record in hand, took long strides, for a little man, towards the Adjutant's tent.

"Captain," said he, addressing an officer who was best known in the Division as a relative of a leading commander, and whose only claim to merit—in fact, it had to counterbalance many habits positively bad—consisted of his reposing under the shadow of a mighty name, "where is the original order detailing this Court?" "Here, General," said a clerk, producing the paper. The General's eye rested for a moment upon it, then throwing it upon the table, he burst out passionately: "Captain, this is too G—d d—n bad after all my care and trouble in giving you full instructions. Is it possible that the simplest order can't be made out without my supervision, as if, by G—d, it was my business to stand over your desks all day long, see every paper folded, endorsement made, and the right pigeon-hole selected? This won't do. I give full instructions, and expect them carried out. By G—d," continued the General, striding vehemently across to his marquee, "they must be carried out."

"Colonel, I see that you are not accountable for this. If the d——d fool had only made it 'Detail of the Court,' it might have passed unnoticed."

"General," suggested the Colonel, "would not that have been improper? Would it not have implied an already existing organization of the court? whereas the phrase in the order is intended merely to indicate who shall compose the court."

"It would have looked better, sir," said the General, somewhat sharply. "Colonel, you are not to blame for this; you can return to quarters, sir."

The Colonel bowed himself out, remounted his black horse, and while riding at a slow walk, could not but wonder if the Government would not have been the gainer if it had made it the business of the General to fold and endorse papers, and dust pigeon-holes. It was generally understood that this occupation had been, previous to his being placed in command of the Division, the sum-total of the General's military experience. And how high above him did this red-tapism extend? The General had been on McClellan's staff, and through his influence, doubtless, acquired his present position. Were its trifling details detaining the grand army of the Potomac from an onward movement in this most favorable weather, to the great detriment of national finances, the encouragement of the Rebellion, and the depression of patriots everywhere? Must the earnestness of the patriotic, self-sacrificing thousands in the field, be fettered by these cobwebs, constructed by men interested in pay and position? If so, then in its widest sense, is the utterance of an intelligent Sergeant, made a few days previous, true, that red-tape was a greater curse to the country than the rebellion. The loyal earnest masses would soon, if unfettered, have found leaders equally loyal and earnest—Joshuas born in the crisis of a righteous cause, whose unceasing blows would not have allowed the rebels breathing spells. It is not too late; but how much time, blood, to say nothing of money, have been expended in ascertaining that a great Union military leader thought the war in its best phase a mere contest for boundaries.

The black halted at the tent door, was turned over to his attendant, and the Lieut.-Colonel joined his tent companion the Colonel.

His stay was brief. In the course of a few minutes an orderly in great haste handed him the following note:

"The General commanding Division desires to see Lieut.-Colonel —— without delay."

The saddle, not yet off the black, was readjusted, and again the Judge-Advocate cantered over the gentle bluffs to Division Head-Quarters.

"Colonel," said the General, hardly waiting for his entrance, "these mistakes multiply so, as I proceed in my duty as Reviewing Officer, that I am utterly confounded as to what course to pursue."

"Will you please point them out, General?"

"Point out the Devil!—will you point to something that is strictly in accordance with the regulations? Here you have 'Private John W. Holman, Co. I, 212th Regt. P. V.,' and then not two lines below, it is, John W. Holman, Private, Co. I, 212th Reg. P. V.' Now, by G—Colonel, one is certainly wrong, and that blunder did not come from Division Head-Quarters."

"Will the General please indicate which is correct?"

"Indicate! that's the d——l of it, that is the perplexing question; my French authorities are silent on the subject, and yet, sir, you must see that one must be wrong."

"That does not follow, General; it would be considered a mere clerical error. Records that I have seen have titles preceding and following both."

"There is no such thing in military law as a mere clerical error. Every thing is squared here by the regulations and military law. The General or Colonel who is unfortunate in consequence of strictly following these, will not, by military men, regular officers at least, be held accountable. Do not understand me as combating your knowledge of the law, Colonel; you may have excused, in your practice, bad records successfully on the ground of 'clerical errors,' but it will not do in the army. There's where volunteer officers make their mistakes; they don't think and act concertedly as regulars do. Individual judgment steps in too often, and officers' judgments play the D—l in the army. Now, in France, their rules in regard to this, are unusually strict."

"They order this matter better in France then," observed the Colonel, mechanically making use of the hackneyed opening sentence of "The Sentimental Journey." "And they manage them better, Sir;—Another thing, Colonel," quickly added the General, "t's must be crossed and i's carefully dotted. There are several omissions of this kind that might have sent the Record back. By the way, whose hand-writing is this copy in?" said the General, looking earnestly at the Colonel. "A clerk's, sir." "A clerk! Another d——d pretty piece of business," continued the General, rising. "Colonel, that record is not worth a G—d d—n not a G—d d—n, Sir! Who ever heard of a clerk being employed? no clerk has a right to know any thing of the proceedings."

"I have been informed, General, and have observed from published reports of proceedings of courts-martial, that clerks are in general use."

"Can't be! Colonel, can't be! By G—d, there is another perplexing matter for my already over-taxed time, and yet the senseless people expect Generals to move large armies, and plan big battles, when their hands are full of these d——d business details that cannot be neglected or delayed."

The General resumed his seat, ran his fingers through his hair with frightful rapidity, as if gathering disconcerted and scattered ideas, for a moment or two, and then looking up dismissed the Colonel.

The black was again in requisition; and again the Colonel's thoughts, with increased feelings of disgust, were directed to what he could not but think the trifling details that, as the General admitted, delay the movements of great armies, and the striking of heavy blows. T's must be crossed when we ought to be crossing the Potomac; i's dotted when we ought to be dotting Virginia fields with our tents. And war so proverbially, so historically uncertain, has its rules, which, if adhered to, will save commanders from censure—judgment not allowed to interfere. It would appear so from many movements in the history of the Army of the Potomac. What would that despiser of senseless details, defier of rules laid down by inferior men, and cutter of red tape, as well as master-genius in the art of war, the Great, the First Napoleon, have said to all this. Shades of Washington, Marion, Morgan, all the Revolutionary worthies, Jackson, all our Volunteer Officers, of whose military records we are justly proud—

"Of the mighty can it be That this is all remains of thee!"

Generals leading armies such as the world never before saw, fettering movements on the field by the movements of trifling office details at the desk, which viewed in the best light are the most contemptible of excuses for delay.

This time the old black was not unsaddled;—a fortunate thought, as another request for the immediate presence of the Judge Advocate compelled him to take his dinner of boiled beans hasty and hot.

Whatever the reader may think of the General's condition of mind during the preceding interviews, it was to reach its fever heat in this. The Colonel saw, as he entered the marquee, that his forced calmness of demeanor portended a storm. Whether the Colonel thought that a half-emptied good-sized tumbler of what looked like clear brandy which stood on the table before him, had anything to do with it, the reader must judge for himself.

"Colonel, I had made up my mind to forward that Record with the mistakes I have already indicated to you, but after all I am pained to state that the total disregard of duty by the Court, and perhaps by yourself, in trifling—yes, by G—d—" here the General could keep in no longer, and rising with hand clinching the Record firmly, continued,—"trifling with a soldier's duty, the regulations, and the safety of the army will not allow it. Colonel, you are a lawyer, and is it possible that you can't see what that d——d Court has done?"

"I would be happy to be informed in what respect they have erred, General."

"Happy to be informed! how they have erred! By G—d, Colonel, you take this outrageous matter cool. That Record," said the General, holding it up, and waving it about his head,—the red tape with which the Judge Advocate had adorned it plentifully, if for no other purpose than to cover a multitude of mistakes, all the while streaming in the air,—"that Record is a disgrace to the Division. What does that Record show?" At this he threw it violently into a corner of the tent. "It shows, by G—d, that here was an enlisted soldier in the United States Army, found sleeping on his post in the dead hour of night, in the presence of the enemy, and yet—" said the General, lifting both hands clenched, "a pack of d——d volunteer officers detailed as a court let him off. Yes, I'll be G—d d——d," and his arms came down slapping against his hips, "let him off, with what? why a reprimand at dress parade, that isn't worth a d—n as a punishment. Here was a chance to benefit the Division; yes, sir, a military execution would do this Division good. It needs it; we'll have a d——d sight now to be court-martialed. What will General McClellan say with that record before him? Think of that, Colonel.'

"I would be much more interested in what Judge Advocate Holt would say, General, on account of his vastly superior ability in that department; and as to the death penalty, General, I conscientiously think it would be little short of, if not quite, murder." The General had resumed his seat, but now arose as if about to interrupt;—but the Colonel continued:—

"General, that boy is but seventeen, with a look that indicates unmistakably that he is half an idiot. He has an incurable disease that tends to increase his imbecility. His memory, if he ever had any, is completely gone. The Articles of War, or instructions of officers as to picket duty, would not be remembered by him a minute after utterance, and not understood when uttered. I have thought since that I should have entered a plea of insanity for him. He had not previously been upon duty for a month, and was that day placed on by mistake. The Court, if it had had the power, would have punished the officer that recruited him severely. He ought to be discharged; and the Court was informed that his application for discharge, based upon an all-sufficient surgeon's certificate, was forwarded to your head-quarters a month ago, and has not since been heard from. Besides, this was not a picket station, but a mere inside regimental camp guard."

The Colonel spoke rapidly, but with coolness;—all the while the General's eyes, fairly glowing, were gazing down intently upon him.

"Colonel, if your manner was not respectful, I would think that you intended insulting me by your d——d provoking coolness. Conscience!" said the General, sneeringly, "conscience or no conscience, that man must be duly sentenced. By G—d, I order it. You must reconvene the Court without delay. It is well seen it is not a detail of Regulars. Conscience wouldn't trouble them when a d——d miscreant was upon trial. A boy of seventeen! Seventeen or thirty-seven! By G—d! he is a soldier in the Army of the United States, and must be tried and punished as a soldier. An idiot! What need you care about the brains of a soldier? If he has the army cap on his head, that's all you need require. Plea of insanity, indeed! We want no lawyer's tricks here. And as to that discharge, if it is detained at my head-quarters, it is because it was not properly folded or endorsed—may be will not fit neatly in the pigeon-hole. Colonel," continued the General, moderating his tone somewhat, "I must animadvert—by G—d, I must animadvert severely upon that Record."

"General," quietly interrupted the Colonel, "you will publish your animadversion, I trust, so that it can be read at dress parades, and the Division have the benefit of it."

"There, Colonel," said the General, twitching his moustache violently, "there it is again. You appear perfectly courteous—but that remark is cool contempt. I want you to understand," his tones louder, and gesticulations violent, "that you must take my strictures, tell the court that they must impose the sentence I direct, and leave conscience to me, and no d——d plea of insanity about it."

"General," observed the Colonel, rising, "I am the counsel of the prisoner as well as of the United States. I cannot and will not injure my own conscience, wrong the prisoner, or humiliate the Government by insisting upon a death penalty."

"Read my strictures to the court, and do your duty, sir, or I'll court-martial the whole d——d establishment. Go and re-assemble your court forthwith."

As he said this he handed a couple of closely written sheets of large sized letter-paper, tied with the inevitable red-tape, to the Colonel. The Colonel bowed himself out, and the chair in front of the pigeon-holes of the camp desk was again occupied by a living embodiment of red-tape.

The court was forthwith notified. It immediately met. The strictures were read, and in case of many sentences, especially towards the close, from necessity re-read by the Judge Advocate. After considerable laughter over the document, and some little indignation at the unwarranted dictation of "their commanding General," of which title the General had taken especial pains to remind them at least every third sentence, the court decided not to change the sentence, and directed the Judge Advocate to embody their reasons for the character of the sentence in his report. The reasons, much the same as those stated to the General by the Judge Advocate, were reduced to writing, and duly forwarded, with the record signed and attested, to their "commanding General." That record, like some other court-martial records of the Division, has not since been heard of as far as the Judge Advocate or any member of the court is informed. The poor boy a few days afterwards entered a hospital, not again to rejoin his regiment. His application for discharge has not been heard of. With no prospect of being fit for active service—dying by inches in fact,—he is compelled at Government expense to follow the regiment in an ambulance from camp to camp, and on all its tedious marches.

The profanity in the foregoing chapter has doubtless disgusted the reader quite as much as its utterance did the Judge Advocate. And yet hundreds of the Division who have heard the General on hundreds of other occasions, the writer feels confident will certify that it is rather a mild mood of the General's that has been described. The habit is disgusting at all times. Many able Generals are addicted to the habit; but they are able in spite of it. That their influence would be increased without it, cannot be denied. It has been well said to be "neither brave, polite, nor wise." But now when the hopes of the nation centre in the righteousness of their cause, and thousands of prayers continually ascend for its furtherance from Christians in and out of uniform, how utterly contemptible! how outrageously wicked! for an officer of elevated position, to profane the Name under which those prayers are uttered, and upon which the nation relies as its "bulwark," "its tower of strength," a very "present help in this its time of trouble."



CHAPTER VII.

A Picket-Station on the Upper Potomac—Fitz John's Rail Order—Rails for Corps Head-Quarters versus Rails for Hospitals—The Western Virginia Captain—Old Rosy, and How to Silence Secesh Women—The Old Woman's Fixin's—The Captain's Orderly.

Picket duty, while in this camp, was light. Even the little tediousness connected with it was relieved by the beautifully romantic character of the scenery. Confined entirely to the river front, the companies detailed were posted upon the three bluffs that extended the length of that front, and on the tow-path of the canal below.

The duty, we have said, was light. It could hardly be considered necessary, in fact, were it not to discipline the troops. The bluffs were almost perpendicular, varying between seventy-five and one hundred feet in height. Immediately at their base was the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, averaging six feet in depth. A narrow towing-path separated it from the Potomac, which, in a broad, placid, but deep stream, broken occasionally by the sharp points of shelving rocks, mostly sunken, that ran in ridges parallel with the river course, flowed languidly; the water being dammed below as before mentioned.

On one of the most inclement nights of the season, the Company commanded by our Western Virginia captain had been assigned the towing-path as its station. No enemy was in front, nor likely to be, from the manner in which that bank of the river was commanded by our batteries. In consequence, a few fires, screened by the bushes along the river bank, were allowed. Around these, the reserve and officers not on duty gathered.

In a group standing around a smoky fire that struggled for existence with the steadily falling rain, stood our captain. His unusual silence attracted the attention of the crowd, and its cause was inquired into.

"Boys, I'm disgusted; for the first time in my life since I have been in service; teetotally disgusted with the way things are carried on. I'm no greenhorn at this business either," continued the captain, assuming, as he spoke, the position of a soldier, and although somewhat ungainly when off duty, no man in the corps could take that position more correctly, or appear to better advantage. "I served five years as an enlisted man in an artillery regiment in the United States army, and left home in the night when I wasn't over sixteen, to do it; part of that time was in the Mexican war. Yes, sir, I saw nearly the whole of that. Since then, I've been in service nearly ever since this Rebellion broke out, and the hardest kind of service, and under nearly all kinds of officers, and by all that's holy, I never saw anything so mean nor was as much disgusted as I was to-day. Boys! when shoulder-straps with stars on begin to think that we are not human beings, of flesh and blood, liable to get sick, and when sick, needing attention like themselves, it's high time those straps change shoulders. These damp days we, and especially our sick, ought to be made comfortable. One great and good soldier that I've often heard tell of, wounded, of high rank, and who lived a long time ago, across the ocean, refused, although dying for want of drink, to touch water, until a wounded private near him first had drunk. That's the spirit. A man that'll do that, is right, one hundred chances to one in other respects. We have had such Generals, we have them now, and some may be in this corps, but it don't look like it."

"Well, Captain, what did you see?"

"Well, I had sent my Sergeant to get a few rails to keep a poor boy comfortable who had a high fever, and who could not get into the hospital for want of room. The wood that was cut from the hill was green, and the poor fellow had been nearly smoked to death. The Sergeant went with a couple of men, and was coming back, the men having two rails apiece, when just as they got the other side of the Toll-gate on the hill, the Provost-Guard stopped them, told them there was an order against their using rails, and they must drop them. It did no good to say that they were for a sick man, that was no go. They thought they had to do it, and did it. They hadn't come fifty yards toward camp, before one of those big six-mule corps-teams that have been hauling rails for the last four days, came along, and the rails were pitched into the wagon. When I heard of it I was wrothy. I cut a bee-line for the Adjutant and got the Order, and there it was in black and white, that no more fences—rebel fences—should be destroyed, and no more rails used. Now, I knew well that these corps-teams had hauled and hauled until the whole establishment, from General Porter down to his Darkies, were in rails up to their eyes, and then, when they had their own fill, this order comes, and we, poor devils, might whistle. Here were our hospitals like smoke-houses, not fit for human beings, and especially the sick. It was a little too d——d mean. I couldn't stand it. The more I thought of it the madder I got, and I got fighting mad, when I thought how often that same General in his kid gloves, fancy rig, and cloak thrown back from his shoulders to show all the buttons and stars, had passed me without noticing my salute. He never got a second chance, and never will. I started off, took three more men than the Sergeant had; went to the first fence I could find, and that was about two miles—for the corps-teams had made clean work—loaded my men and myself, and started back. The Provost-Guard was at the old place; I was bound to pass them squarely.

"'Captain,' said the Sergeant, 'we have orders to stop all parties carrying rails.'

"'By whose orders?'

"'General Porter's.'

"'I am one of General Porter's men. I have authority for this, sir,' said I, looking him full in the eye.

"'Boys, move on!' and on we did move. When the Lieut. saw us filing left over the hill towards camp, he sent a squad after us. But it was too late. The Devil himself couldn't have had the rails in sight of my company quarters, and I told him so.

"'I'll report you to the Division General, and have you court-martialed, sir.'

"'Very well,' although I knew the General had a mania for courts-martial. 'I have been court-martialed four times, and cleared every clip.'

"'Now let that court-martial come; somebody's meanness will see the light,' thought I.

"Old Rosy, boys, was the man. I said I was disgusted, but we mustn't get discouraged. We have some earnest men—yes, I believe, plenty of them; but they're not given a fair show. It'll all come right, though, I believe. Men with hearts in them; and Rosy, let me tell you, is no runt in that litter.

"'Captain,' said he to me one day when I had gone to his head-quarters according to orders, 'I have something that must be done without delay, and from what I've seen of you, you are just the man for the work. I passed our hospital a few minutes ago, and I thought it was about to blaze; the smoke came out of the windows, chimney, doors, and every little crack so damnably. I turned around and went in, and found that the smoke had filled it, and that the poor fellows were suffering terribly. Now, Captain, they have no dry wood, and they must have some forth with, and I'll tell you where to get it.

"'The other day I rode by a nest of she-rebels, and found that they had cord upon cord of the best hickory piled up in the yard, as if cut by their husbands, before leaving, for use this winter. They have made provision enough for our hospital too. Now take three army wagons, as many men as you need, and go about three miles out the Little Gap Road till you come to a new weather-boarded house at the Forks. Make quick work, Captain.'

"I did make quick work in getting there, for that was about ten, and about half-past eleven the government wagons were in the yard of the house and my company in front.

"'We have no chickens,' squalled an old woman from a second-story window, 'nor pigs, nor anything—all gone. We are lone women.'

"'Only in the day-time, I reckon,' said my orderly; the same fellow that winked at the chaplain. He was one of the roughest fellows that ever kept his breath over night. Long, lank, ill-favored, a white scrawny beard, stained from the corners of his mouth with tobacco juice; but for all, I'd pick him out of a thousand for an orderly. He was always there, and his rifle—he always carried his own—a small bore, heavy barrel, rough-looking piece, never missed.

"As the old woman was talking from the window, a troop of women, from eighteen to forty years old—but I am a better judge of horses' ages than women's; they slip us up on that pint too often—came rushing out of the door. They made all kinds of inquiries, but I set my men quietly to work loading the wood.

"'Now, Captain, you shan't take that wood,' said a well-developed little, rather pretty, black-haired woman, but with those peculiar black eyes, full of the devil, that you only see among the Rebels, and that the Almighty seems to have set in like lanterns in lighthouses to show that their bearers are not to be trusted. 'You shan't take that wood!' raising her voice to a scream. The men worked on quietly, and I overlooked the work.

"'You dirty, greasy-looking Yankee,' said another, 'born in some northern poor-house.'

"'And both parents died in jail, I'll bet.'

"'If our Jim was only here, he'd handle the cowardly set in less time than one of them could pick up that limb.'

"'You chicken thief, you come by it honestly. Your father was a thief before you, and your mother—'

"This last roused me. I could hear nothing bad of her from man or woman.

"'You she-devil,' said I, turning to her, 'not one word more.' She turned toward the house.

"But they annoyed the men, and I concluded to keep them still.

"'Sergeant,' said I, addressing the orderly, and nearing the house, the women close at my heels. 'Sergeant, as our regiment will camp near here to-morrow, we might as well look out for a company hospital. How big is that house?'

"'Large enough, Captain; thirty by fifty at least.'

"'How many rooms?'

"'About three, I reckon, on first floor, and I guess the upper story is all in one, from its looks through the window. Plenty of room. Bully place, and what is more, plenty of ladies to nurse the poor boys.

"The noses of the women not naturally cocked, became upturned at this last remark of the sergeant's. But they had become silent, and looked anxious.

"'Sergeant, here's paper and pencil, just note down the names of the sick, and the rooms we'll put them in, so as to avoid confusion.'

"The sergeant ran the sharp end of the pencil half an inch in his mouth, and on the palm of his horny hand commenced the list, talking all the while aloud—slowly, just as if writing—'Let me see. My mem'y isn't more than an inch long, and there's a blasted lot of 'em.

"'Jim Smith, Bob Riley, Larry Clark, got small-pox; Larry all broke out big as old quarters, put 'em in back room down stairs.' The women got pale, but small-pox had been common in those parts. 'George Johnson, Bill Davis, got the mumps.' 'The mumps, Sally, the mumps, them's what killed George, and they're so catchin'—whispered one of the women—and continued the sergeant, 'Bill Thatcher, George Clifton the chicken-pox.' 'O Lord, the chicken-pox,' said another woman, 'it killed my two cousins before they were in the army a week.'—'Put them four,' said the sergeant, 'in the middle room down stairs. Save the kitchen for cookin', and up stairs put Jim Williams, Spooky Johnson, Tom Hardy, Dick Cramer, and the little cook boy; all got the measles.' 'The measles!' screamed out half-a-dozen together. 'Good-Lord, we'll be killed in a week.' 'They say,' said another black eye, 'that that crack Mississippi Brigade took the measles at Harper's Ferry, and died like flies. They had to gather them from the bushes, and all over. Brother Tom told me. He said our boys were worked nearly to death digging graves.'

"'That was a good thing,' observed the sergeant.

"'You beast!' said the little old woman advancing towards him, and shaking her fist in his face.

"'And what will become of us women?' screamed she.

"'A pretty question for an old lady; we calculate that you ladies will wait on the sick,' drily remarked the sergeant.

"At this the women, thinking their case hopeless, with downcast looks quietly filed into the house.

"The boys by this time had about done loading the teams. All the while I had watched the manners of the women closely and the house, and I came to the conclusion that it would pay to make a visit inside.

"A guard was placed on the outside, and telling the sergeant and two men to follow, I entered. It was all quiet below, but we found when we had reached the top of the steps, and stood in the middle of the big room up stairs, the women in great confusion, some in a corner of the room, and a few sitting on the beds. Among the latter, sitting as we boys used to say on her hunkers, with hands clasped about her knees, was the old woman. Besides the beds the only furniture in the room was a large, roughly made, double-doored wardrobe that stood in one corner.

"We hadn't time to look around before the old woman screeched out—

"'You won't disturb my private fixin's, will you?'

"'I rather think not,' slowly said the sergeant, giving her at the same time a comical look.

"Notwithstanding repeated and tearful assurances that there was nothing there, that the men had taken off all the arms, hadn't left lead enough to mend a hole in the bottom of the coffee-pot, etc., etc., we began to search the beds, commencing at one corner. There were two beds between us and the old woman's, and although we shook ticks and bolsters, and made otherwise close examination, we discovered nothing beyond the population usually found in such localities in Western Virginia.

"The old woman was fidgety. Her face, that at two reflections would have changed muscatel into crab apple vinegar, was more than usually wrinkled. 'O Lord, nothing here,' groaned she, as she sat with her back to the head-board. She did not budge an inch as we commenced at her bed.

"The sergeant had gone to the head-board, I to the foot. I saw a twinkle in his eye as he turned over the rough comfort, his hand reached down—he drew it up gradually, and the old woman slid as gradually from the lock to the muzzle of a long Kentucky rifle. 'O Lord,' groaned she, as she keeled over on her right side at the foot of the bed.

"A glow of admiration overspread the Sergeant's face as he looked at that rifle.

"'Well, I swow, old woman, is this what you call a private fixin'?' said the Sergeant. 'A queer bed-fellow you've got; and just look, Captain,' said he, trying the ramrod, 'loaded, capped, and half cocked.'

"The heavy manner in which the old lady fell over satisfied me that we hadn't all the armory, and I directed her to leave the bed and stand on the floor.

"'Can't, can I, Ann?' addressing one of the women.

"'No, marm can't, she is helpless.'

"'Got the rheumatics, had 'em a year and better,' groaned the old woman.

"'Hadn't 'em when you shook your fist under my nose in the yard,' said the Sergeant. 'Get off the bed;' catching the old woman by the arm, he helped her off. She straightened up with difficulty, holding her clothes at the hips with both hands. 'Hold up your hands,' said the Sergeant. He was about to assist her, when not relishing that, she lifted them up; as she did so, there was a heavy rattling sound on the floor. The old woman jumped about a foot from the floor clear out of a well filled pillow cushion, dancing and yelling like an Indian. Some hardware must have struck her toe and made her forget her rheumatism.

"That bag had two Colt's navy size, two pistols English make, with all the trappings for both kinds, and two dozen boxes of best make English water proof caps.

"'Old woman,' said the Sergeant with a chuckle, 'your private fixin's as you call 'em, are worth hunting for.'

"But the old woman had reached the side of a bed, and was too much engaged in holding her toe, to notice the remark.

"The other beds were searched, but with no success. I had noticed while the old woman was hopping about a short fat woman getting behind some taller ones in the corner and arranging her clothing. The old woman's contrivance made me think the corner worth looking at.

"The women sulkily and slowly gave way, and another pillow-case was found on the floor, from which a brace of pistols, one pair of long cowhide riding boots, three heavy-bladed bowie knives, and some smaller matters, were obtained.

"The wardrobe was the only remaining thing, and on it as a centre the women had doubled their columns.

"'Oh, Captain, don't,' said several at once beseechingly, 'we're all single women, and that has our frocks and fixin's in it,' as I touched the wardrobe.

"'As far as I've seed there is not much difference between married women's fixin's and single ones,' coolly said the Sergeant.

"'There is not one of us married, Captain.'

"'Sorry for that,' said the Sergeant, leisurely eyeing the women. 'If you'd take advice from a Yankee, some of you had better hurry up.'

"The women were indignant, but smothered it, having ascertained that a passionate policy would not avail.

"By this time one of the men had succeeded with his bayonet in forcing a door. The Sergeant had laid his hand on the door, when a pretty face, lit up with those same devilish black eyes, was looking into his half winningly, and a pair of small hands were clasping his arm. The Sergeant's head gradually fell as if to hear what she had to say, when magnetism, a desire to try experiments, or call it what you will, as 'love,' although said to 'rule the camp,' has little really to do with the monotony of actual camp scenes, or the horrors of the field itself,—at any rate the Sergeant's head dropped suddenly,—a loud smack, followed instantly by the dull sound of a blow,—and the Sergeant gently rubbed an already blackening eye, while the woman was engaged in drawing her sleeve across her mouth. Like enough some tobacco juice went with the sleeve, for the corners of the Sergeant's mouth were regular sluices for that article.

"The Sergeant's eye did not prevent him from opening the door, however.

"'Well, I declare, brother Jim's forgot his clothes and sword,' said one of the women, manifesting much surprise.

"'Do you call that brother Jim's clothes?' said the Sergeant, grasping a petticoat, above which appeared the guard of a cavalry sabre, and holding both up to view. 'I tell you it's no use goin' on,' said the Sergeant, somewhat more earnestly, his eye may be smarting a little, 'we're bound to go through it if it takes the hair off.' The women squatted about on the beds, down-hearted enough.

"And through it we went, getting five more sabres and belts, and two Sharp's rifles complete in that side, and a cavalry saddle, holsters with army pistols, bridles, and a rifled musket, in the other side; all bran new. There was nothing in the lower story or cellar.

"When I showed Rosy our plunder—and it hadn't to be taken to his tent either—when he heard of it, he came out as anxious and pleased as any of the boys,—he was a General interested in our luck more than his own pay,—he clapped me on the shoulder right before my men, and all the officers and men looking on, and said: 'Captain, you're a regular trump. Three cheers, boys, for the Captain and company.' And as he started them himself, the boys did give 'em, too. 'Captain, you'll not be forgotten—be easy on that point.' And I was easy, until a fit of sickness that I got put my fortune for the time out of Rosy's hands. The men never forgot that trip. The Sergeant often said though, it was the only trip he wasn't altogether pleased with, because, I suppose, his black eye was a standing joke."

Just then, a sentinel's hail and the reply, "Grand Rounds," "Field Officer of the day," hurried the Captain off, and the crowd to their posts.



CHAPTER VIII.

The Reconnoissance—Shepherdstown—Punch and Patriotism—Private Tom on West Point and Southern Sympathy—The Little Irish Corporal on John Mitchel—A Skirmish—Hurried Dismounting of the Dutch Doctor and Chaplain—Battle of Falling Waters not intended—Story of the Little Irish Corporal—Patterson's Folly, or Treason.

An old German writer has said that "six months are sufficient to accustom an individual to any change in life." As he might fairly be supposed to have penned this for German readers and with the fixed habits and feelings of a German, if true at all, it ought to hold good the world over. As we are more particularly interested in camps at present, we venture the assertion that six weeks will make a soldier weary of any camp. With our Sharpsburg camp, however, perhaps this feeling was assisted by the consciousness so frequently manifested in the conversation of the men that the army should be on the move.

Hundreds of relatives and friends had taken advantage of the proximity of the camp to a railroad station to pay us a visit, and with them of course came eatables—not in the army rations—and delicacies of all kinds prepared by thoughtful heads and willing hands at home. Not unfrequently the marquees of the officers were occupied by their families, who, in their enjoyment of the novelties of camp life, the drills, and dress parades of the regiment, treasured up for home consumption, brilliant recollections of the sunny side of war. All this, to say nothing of the scenery, the shade of the wood, that from the peculiar position of the camp, so gratefully from early noon extended itself, until at the hour for dress parade the regiment could come to the usual "parade rest" entirely in the shade. But the roads were good, the weather favorable, the troops effective, and the inactivity was a "ghost that would not down" in the sight of men daily making sacrifices for the speedy suppression of the Rebellion. The matter was constantly recurring for discussion in the shelter tent as well as in the marquees, in all its various forms. A great nation playing at war when its capital was threatened, and its existence endangered. A struggle in which inert power was upon one side, and all the earnestness of deadly hatred and blind fanaticism upon the other. An enemy vulnerable in many ways, and no matter how many loyal lives were lost, money expended by the protraction of the war, but to be assailed in one. But why multiply? Ten thousand reasons might be assigned why a military leader, without an aggressive policy of warfare, unwilling to employ fully the resources committed to him, should not succeed in the suppression of a Rebellion. The nation suffered much in the treason that used its high position to cloak the early rebel movement to arms, and delayed our own preparations; but more in the incapacity or half-heartedness that made miserable use of the rich materials so spontaneously furnished.

In the improvement of the Regiment the delay at the Sharpsburg camp was not lost. The limited ground was well used, and Company and Battalion drills steadily persevered in, brought the Regiment to a proficiency rarely noticed in regiments much longer in the field.

"Three days' cooked rations, sixty rounds of ammunition, and under arms at four in the morning. How do you like the smack of that, Tom?"

"It smacks of war," says Tom, "and it's high time." The first speaker had doffed the gown of the student in his senior year, greatly against the wishes of parents and friends, to don the livery of Uncle Sam. One would scarcely have recognised in the rough sunburned countenance, surmounted by a closely fitting cap, once blue but now almost red, and not from the blood of any battle-field—in the course slovenly worn blue blouse pantaloons, unevenly suspended, and wide unblacked army shoes, the well dressed, graceful accomplished student that commended himself to almost universal admiration among the young ladies of his acquaintance. The second speaker, thinking that a more opportune war had never occurred to demand the silence of the law amid resounding arms, had left his desk in an attorney's office, shelved his Blackstone, and with a courage that never flinched in the field of strife or in toilsome marches where it can perhaps be subjected to a severer test, had thoroughly shown that the resolution with which he committed himself to the war was one upon which no backward step would be taken. They were old friends, and fast messmates. Their little dog-tent, as the shelter tents were called, had heard from each many an earnest wish that their letters might smell of powder.

The feeling then with which George uttered this piece of news, and the joy of Tom as he heard it, can be appreciated.

"What authority have you, George?"

"Old Pigeon-hole's. I heard him, while on duty about his Head-quarters to-day, tell a Colonel, that the move had been ordered; that the War Department had been getting uncommonly anxious, and that it interfered with certain examinations he was making into very important papers."

"I'll warrant it. I would like to see any move in a forward direction that would not interfere with some arrangement of his. His moves are on paper, and a paper General is just about as valuable to the country as a paper blockade."

"Is the movement general?"

"I think it is."

"Of course then it interferes. George, did you ever hear any patriotism about those Head-quarters? You have been a great deal about them."

"No, but I have seen a good deal of punch in that neighborhood."

"I'll warrant it—more punch than patriotism. A great state of affairs this. There are too many of these half-hearted Head-quarters in the army. They ought to be cleaned out, and I believe that before this campaign is through it will be done. If it is not done, the country is lost."

"Country lost! why of course; that is almost admitted about that establishment. They say we may be able to pen them up, and as they don't say any more they must think that is about all. I heard a young officer—a Regular—who seems to be intimate up there say: that there was no use of talking—that men that fought the way the Southerners—he didn't use the word Rebels—did, could not be conquered,—that they were too much for our men, etc., etc. I could have kicked the shoulder-strapped coward or traitor, may be both, but if I had, old Pigeon-hole would have had a military execution for the benefit of the Volunteers in short order. And then he strutted, talking treason and squirting tobacco juice—and all the while our Government supporting the scoundrel. West Point was on his outside, but his conversation and vacant look told me plainly enough that outside of a Government position the squirt had not brains enough to gain a day's subsistence. But he's one of Pigey's 'my Regulars,' and to us Volunteers he can put himself on his dignity with a 'Procul, Procul, este Profani.'"

"George, don't stir me up on that subject any more. I get half mad when I think that Uncle Sam's worst enemies are those of his own household. We had better anticipate the Captain's order about this in our preparations, and not be up half the night."

"Even so, Tom."

George was correct; as to a move at least, for early dawn saw the Division and a detachment from another Division, en route to the river. There was the usual quiet in the camps along which they passed, showing that George was mistaken as to the move being general. The troops marching through a winding and wooded defile, passed the deservedly well known Brigade of General Meagher. "Here's Ould Ireland Boys," said the little Irish Corporal, pointing, as his face glowed with pride, to the flag adorned with "The Harp of Ould Ireland, and the Shamrock so green," the emblems of the Emerald Isle.

"Their General is an Irishman thrue to the sod, none of your rinegade spalpeens like John Mitchel—fighting for slave-holders in Ameriky, and against the Lords and Dukes in Ould Ireland, and the slave-holders as Father Mahan tould me the worst of the two, more aristocratic, big-feeling, and tyrannical than the English nobility. He said, too, that the blackguard could never visit the ould sod again unless he landed in the night-time, and hid himself by day in a bog up to his eyes, and even then the Father said he believed the blissed mimory of St. Patrick,

'Who drove the Frogs into the Bogs, And banished all the Varmint,'

would clean him out after the rist of the varmin."

"Three cheers for the Irish Brigade" greeted the Corporal's remarks.

The troops crossed with difficulty and delay at the only ford—and wondered with reason at the activity of the Rebels in having transported across not only their army and baggage, but hundreds if not thousands of their dead and wounded. The road winding around the high rocks on the Virginia side, must have been in more peaceful times a favorite drive for the gentry of the neighborhood. Shepherdstown itself adorns a most commanding position. On the occasion of this Union visit its inhabitants appeared intensely Secesh. Not so in the early history of the rebellion; when Patterson's column "dragged its slow length along" through the valley of the Shenandoah. Scouting parties then saw Union flags from many a window. True, they streamed from dwellings owned by the merchants, mechanics, and laborers, the real muscle of the country; but this was true of most of the towns of the Border States, and more early energetic action in affording these classes protection would have secured us the aid of their strong hands. As it was, these resources were in great measure frittered away—gradually drawn by what appeared an irresistible influence into the vortex of the Rebellion—or scattered wanderingly through the Loyal States, and worn down and exhausted in the support of dependent and outcast families.

Sharpsburg was greatly altered. The yellow Rebel Flag designated almost every other building as a Hospital. Their surgeons in grey pompously paraded the streets. As the troops marched through, they were subjected to almost every description of insult. One interesting group of Rebel petticoated humanity standing in front of premises that would not have passed inspection by one of our Pennsylvania Dutch housewives, held their noses by way of showing contempt.

"Guess you have to do that, about them diggins. When did you scrub last?" said a bright-eyed officer's servant, whom a few years' service as a news-boy had taught considerable shrewdness.

To annoy others "My Maryland" and "John Brown" were sung by the men. Around a toll-house at the west end of town, occupied by an old lady whose husband had been expelled with a large number of other patriotic residents, had congregated some wives of exiled loyal husbands, who were not afraid to avow their attachment for the old Union, by words of encouragement and waving of handkerchiefs. They were backed by a reserve force of negroes of both sexes, whose generous exhibition of polished ivories, to say the least, did not represent any great displeasure at the appearance of the troops.

"There are the Reserves," said one of the boys, pointing to where the negroes stood.

"Yes, and if they were called in the issue of this Rebellion would be speedy and favorable," said a Captain in musical tones, "and I can't think but that this costly child's play will drive the nation into their use much sooner than many expect. Let them understand that they are the real beneficiaries of this war, and they will not stay their hands. And why shouldn't we use them? 'They are one of the means that God and nature have placed in our hands,' and old Virginia can't object to that doctrine."

"But, Captain," said his First Lieutenant, "would you fight alongside of a darkie?"

"Would you drive a darkie away if he came to assist you in a struggle for life?"

"Yes, but we have men enough without their aid."

"You forget, Lieutenant, that, as matters now are, we have them fighting against us."

"How so?"

"They raise the crops that feed the Rebel army. They are just as much, perhaps not as directly, but just as really fighting against us as the founders who cast their cannon. And as to fighting alongside of them, they may have quite as many prejudices against fighting alongside of us. There is no necessity of interfering with either. Organize colored regiments; appoint colored line officers if efficient, and white field and staff officers, until they attain sufficient proficiency for command. As to their fighting qualities, military records attest them abundantly. The shrewd 'nephew of his uncle' has used them for years."

The earnest argument of the Captain made a deep impression upon the men. The desperation of our case, depressed finances, heavy hospital lists, and many other causes, independently of abstract justice, are fast removing that question beyond the pale of prejudice.

A halt was ordered, and the men rested on the sward that bordered the hard pike, and in the immediate neighborhood of the village cemetery. It was literally crowded with graves, many of them fresh. Large additions had been made from surrounding fields, and they too were closely taken up by ridges covering the dead of Antietam.

The surrounding country had suffered little from the ravages of war. Visited occasionally by scouting parties—principally cavalry—of both sides, there had been none of the occupation by large bodies of troops, which levels fences, destroys crops, and speedily gives the most fertile of countries the seeming barrenness of the desert. The valley had a reputation that ran back to an ante-Revolutionary date for magnificence of scenery and fertility of soil. Washington, with all the enthusiasm of ardent youth, paid it glowing encomiums in his field-notes of the Fairfax surveys. In later times, when the destinies of our struggling colonies rested upon his ample shoulders, the leaders of the faction opposed to him—for great and good as he was, he had jealous, bitter, and malignant enemies—settled a few miles beyond Shepherdstown, at what has since been known as Leetown. The farms, with few exceptions, had nothing of the slovenly air, dilapidated, worn-out appearance, that characterized other parts of Virginia. Upon inquiry we found that the large landowners were in the habit of procuring tenants from the lower counties of Pennsylvania, and that the thrift and close cultivation were really imported. In the course of time these tenants, with their customary acquisitiveness, became landowners themselves, and their farms were readily distinguishable by the farm buildings, and particularly by the large substantial red bank barns.

The troops moved on to a wood, skirting either side of the road, and were thrown into line of battle. The country was gently rolling, and the woods in front that crowned the summit of the low ridges were shelled before advancing. Occasionally Rebel horsemen could be seen rapidly riding from one wood to another, making observations from some commanding point.

In line of battle by Brigade, flanked by skirmishers, the advance was made. To the troops this, although toilsome, was unusually exciting. Through woods, fields of corn whose tall tops concealed even the mounted officers, and made the men, like quails in standing grain, be guided by the direction of the sound of the command, rather than by the touch of elbows to the centre,—over the frequent croppings out of ledges of rock, through the little streams of this plentifully watered country, the movement slowly progressed. They had not advanced far when a shell screamed over their heads, uncomfortably close to the Surgeon and Chaplain, some fifty yards in the rear, and mangled awfully a straggler at least half a mile further back. As may be supposed, his fate was a standing warning against straggling for the balance of the campaign.

Notwithstanding further compliments from the rebels, who appeared to have our range, a roar of laughter greeted the dexterity with which the Chaplain and Surgeon ducked and dismounted at the sound of the first shell. Of about a size, and both small men, they fairly rolled from their horses. The boys had it that the little Dutch Doctor grabbed at his horse's ear, or rather where it ought to have been; as the horse was formerly in the Rebel service, and was picked up by the Doctor after the battle of Antietam, minus an ear, lost perhaps through a cut from an awkward sabre, and missing it fell upon his hands and knees in front of the horse's feet.

As the shells grew more frequent and direct in range, the men were ordered to halt and lie down. The field officers dismounted, and were joined by the Chaplain and Doctor leading their horses.

"Colonel, I no ride that horse," said the Doctor, sputtering and brushing the dust off his clothes.

"Why not, Doctor?"

"Too high—very big—" touching the top of the shoulder of the bony beast, and almost on tip-toe to do it, "had much fall, ground struck me hard," continued he, his eyes snapping all the while.

"Well, Doctor," remarked one of the other field officers, "we have told you all along that if you ever got in range with that horse, your life would hardly be worth talking about."

"They not know him," anxiously said the Doctor.

"Of course they know him. He has the best and plainest ear-mark in the world."

"Pretty close shoot that, anyhow."

The result of this conversation was, that in the further movement the Doctor led his horse during the day.

The firing ceased with no damage, save the bruises of the Doctor, and those received by our tonguey little Corporal, who asserted that the windage of a shell knocked him off a fence. As he fell into a stone heap, it is more than probable that he had some good reason for the movement—besides, why cannot Corporals suffer from wounds of that kind, frequently so fashionable among officers of higher grade?

The onward movement was resumed. In the course of half an hour the cannonading again opened, interspersed with occasional volleys of musketry. The rattling of musketry became incessant. Advancing under cover of rocky bluffs, the shells passed harmlessly over the Brigade. We soon ascertained that the Rebels had made a stand at a point where our advance, from the character of the country, necessarily narrowed into the compass of a strip of meadow-land. Here a brigade of Rebel infantry were drawn up in line of battle. Their batteries posted on a neighboring height, were guided by signals, the country not admitting of extended observation. The contest was brief. The gleam of the bayonets as they fell for the charge, broke the Rebel line, and they retired in considerable confusion to the wood in their rear. Our batteries soon shelled them from those quarters, and the advance continued—the skirmishers of both sides keeping up a rattling fire. Some Rebel earthworks were passed, and late in the afternoon the track of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad was crossed. The Rebels, before leaving, had done their utmost to complete the destruction of that much abused road. At intervals of every one hundred yards, piles of ties surmounted by rails were upon fire. These were thrown down by our men. About half a mile beyond the road, in a finely sodded valley, the troops were halted for the night, pickets posted, and the men prepared their meals closely in the rear of their stacks. The night was a pleasant one. An open air encampment upon such a night is one of the finest phases of a soldier's life. Meals over, the events of the day were discussed, or such matters as proved of interest to the different groups.

One group we must not pass unnoticed. The majority lounged lazily upon the grass, some squatted upon their knapsacks, while a large stone was given by common consent to a tall, fine-looking Lieutenant, the principal officer present.

"Corporal," said he, addressing the little Irish Corporal, "do you know how near we are to Martinsburg?"

"Faith I don't, Lieutenant."

"I do not know the exact distance myself, but we are not over three or four miles from the road that we took when we guarded the ammunition train from Martinsburg to Charlestown."

"Oh, it's the ould First ye are spaking about, is it? Ov coorse I ricollect Martinsburg, and the markit-house where I guarded the fifty nagurs that Gineral Patterson had ordered to be arrested for having stripes on their pantaloons, Uncle Sam's buttons on their caps, and belts with these big brass U. S. plates on. Oh, but it was a swate crowd. The poor divils were crowded like cattle on cars, and it was one of the hot smothering nights. I couldn't help thinkin', that by and by, if our armies didn't move faster, the nagurs would have little trouble gettin' into uniforms. They have a nat'ral concate about such things. One poor fellow rolled the whites of his eyes awfully, and almost cried when I ordered him out of his red breeches."

"The day has not come yet, and need not," rejoined the Lieutenant, "if our generals do their duty. Don't you recollect how we were hurried from Frederick, and after marching seven miles out of the way, made good time for all to Williamsport—how bayonets appeared to glisten upon every road leading into the town; and then our crossing the river, the band all the while playing 'The Star-spangled Banner,' and the march we made to Martinsburg, passing over the ground where the battle of Falling Waters had but a few days before been fought? If that battle had been followed up as it should have been, Johnson would never have reached Bull Run."

"Be jabers! do you know, Lieutenant, that that fight was all a mistake upon our part? Shure, our ginerals niver intended it."

A laugh, with the inquiry "how he knew that?" followed.

"Didn't I hear a Big Gineral, that I was acting as orderly for while in Martinsburg—for they made orderlies of corporals thim days—tell a richly-dressed old lady, 'That it was our policy to teach our misguided Southern brethren, by an imposing show of strength, how hopeless it would be to fight against the Government.' The lady said, 'That would save much bloodshed, would become a Christian nation, and would return them as friends to their old way of thinking. 'Yes, madam!' said the Gineral, 'there is no bitter feeling in our breasts,' clasping his breast. 'The masses south will soon see their country surrounded by volunteers in great numbers, and that the war, if protracted, must involve them all in ruin. When the war is over, madam, fanatics on both sides can be hung.'

"'That was a dreadful affair at Falling Waters, General,' said the lady, with a strange twinkle in her eyes.

"'Yes, madam,' replied the General, coloring up to his ears, 'a blunder of some of our volunteer officers. Ordinary military prudence made us send forward some force to reconnoitre before crossing the main army. These troops were to fall back if the enemy appeared in force. Not understanding their orders, or carried away by the excitement of the moment, they engaged the enemy with the unfortunate results to which you allude.'

"Av it would have been proper for a corporal, I would have asked the Gineral what Johnny Reb would do while we were taching him all that. Thim's the Gineral's exact words, for I paid particular attention. I put them thegither with what I had heard from a Wisconsin boy, and I got the whole history of that fight."

"Let's have it," shouted the crowd, now considerably increased, "at once!"

"Well, you see, they were sent forward to reconnoitre, as the Gineral said, and there was a Wisconsin regiment of bear hunters and the like, and a Pennsylvania regiment of deer hunters and Susquehannah raftsmen pretty well forward. These Wisconsin chaps, in dead earnest, brought their rifles along all the way from Wisconsin, and, like the Susquehannah fellows, they couldn't kape hands off the trigger if there was any game about.

"Well, they got to Falling Waters without stirring up anything; you recollect, Lieutenant, where that rebel officer's house was burned down, and then the battery that was along with them, seeing some suspicious-looking Grey Backs dodging in and out of a wood, let them have a few round of shells just to see whether they were in force or not, according to orders. The Rebs made tracks for a low piece of ground behind a ridge, and then formed line of battle. Our men, with a yell, went forward, and when they saw the Rebs in line, these two Colonels, thinking they had been sent out to fight, and that their men didn't carry guns for nothing, ordered them to fire; and then they ordered them to load again, in order to relave their hips as much as possible from the load of ammunition; and then they fired again; and then, gittin' excited, and thinkin' this work too slow, and that it wouldn't do to take such bright bayonets home, they ordered a charge, and cheering, yelling, and howling, our boys went at the Rebs. The Rebs didn't stand to meet them, but fell back behind a barn. The batteries burned that,—and then they tried to form line again, but no use. As soon as our fellows gave the yell, they were off like all possessed. They had prepared to run by tearing the fences down; and then it was trying to form line, and breaking as soon as our fellows howled a little, all the way for five long miles to Martinsburg; and the last our boys saw of the Rebs was their straight coat-tails at the south end of the town. And that was the whole battle of Falling Waters; and may be Ould Patterson wouldn't have got to Martinsburg if them Colonels had reported the Rebs in force, and not got excited.

"But how did you hear all this? You forget that part of it."

"And couldn't you let that go? I thought I could concale that.

"Well, you know, Lieutenant, our ould Colonel boarded at the Brick Hotel, along the Railroad, above where the long strings of locomotives were burned, as the Gineral says, by our 'misguided southern friends;' and I was about there considerably on duty. One afternoon, a jolly-looking little chap, one of the Wisconsin boys, and one after my own heart—and he proved it, too, by trating me to several drinks—came along with a Rebel Artillery officer's coat under his arm. And we looked at the coat, and talked and drank, and drank and talked, until the Wisconsin chappy put it on, just to show me how the Rebel officer looked in it. It was a fine grey, trimmed with gold lace and scarlet, and the Wisconsin chappy looked gay in it, barring the sleeves were several inches too long, and the waist buttons came down nearly a foot too far, and it was too big round the waist. And he showed me after every drink what he did and what the Officer did,—and, to tell the plain truth, we got a drop too much,—and the Wisconsin chappy got turning back-hand springs against the side of the hotel, and I tried to do the same, to the great sport of the crowd. But it didn't last long. A corporal's guard took—or rather carried—us to the guard-house, and towards morning, when we sobered up, he tould me the whole story."

"Pretty well put together, Terry."

"And the blissed truth, ivery word of it."

The night was wearing away—work before them in the morning—and the group dispersed for their blankets, from which we will not disturb them until the succeeding chapter.



CHAPTER IX.

Reconnoissance concluded. What we Saw and What we didn't See, and what the Good Public Read—Pigeon-hole Generalship and the Press—The Preacher Lieutenant and how he Recruited—Comparative Merits of Black Union Men and White Rebels—A Ground Blast, and its effect upon a Pigeon-hole General—Staff Officers Striking a Snag in the Western Virginia Captain—Why the People have a right to expect active Army Movements—Red Tape and the Sick List—Pigeon-holing at Division Head-quarters.

In the misty morning arms were taken and the forward resumed. Occasional Rebel corpses passed showed the work of our sharpshooters. In a short time the ground again prevented the movement in line of battle, and the troops marched by the flank over a road well wooded on each side, until they reached what proved to be the farthest point made by the reconnoissance—a large open plateau, bounded on the north and west by a wooded ridge to which it gradually rose, and which was said to border the Oppequan. On the south, at an average distance of five hundred yards from the road, was a strip of timber land. Slightly west by south, but upon the north side of the road, was a rise of ground, in the rear of which, but upon the south side of the road, were a farmer's house and out-buildings. The troops pursued their march until the head of the column arrived opposite the house. Suspicious-looking horsemen were discovered on the edge of the woods that crowned the ridge. The order was given that the troops should leave the road and take cover on its south side, a position not commanded by the ridge. The order was not executed before a Rebel officer, on a white-tailed dun horse, the tail particularly conspicuous against the dark background of the wood, was observed signalling to the extreme right of what was now supposed to be the Rebel line. Almost instantly some half a dozen pieces of artillery were placed in position, at various points on the brow of the circular ridge, completely commanding, in fact flanking our position. Our troops, however, were not disturbed, although every instant expecting a salute from the batteries, as the range was easy and direct. While the troops were being placed in position behind the house the batteries were posted on the rise. A few hours passed in this position. The Rebel batteries in plain view, horsemen continually emerging and disappearing in the wood. Was it the force that we had driven before us? or were the Rebels in force upon that ridge, making the Oppequan their line of defence? Better ground upon which to be attacked could not be chosen. The long distance to be traversed under fire of any number of converging batteries, would have slaughtered men by the thousands. But again, if the Rebels were in force, why did they not attack us? Outflanking us was easy. With a superior force our retreat could easily be intercepted, and if we escaped at all, it would be with heavy loss. Their batteries threatened, but no firing. All was quiet, save the noise made by the men in stripping an orchard in their immediate front, and the commands of their officers in ordering them back to the ranks.

The quiet was provoking, and all manner of discussion as to the Rebel force, movements, etc., was indulged in. Many contended that they were but threatening—others, that they were in force, that was their line of defence, and the plateau in front their battle-ground. This decision the General in command seems to have arrived at, as the flaming telegrams in the Dailies, in the course of a day or two, announced that the Rebels were discovered in great force, strongly posted in a most defensible position. After the lapse of an hour or two, the order for the homeward march was given, and strange to say, that although marching by the flank the last man had disappeared from their view, behind the cover of the wood, before they opened fire. They then commenced shelling the woods vigorously, and continued firing at a respectful distance, doing no damage, until night set in. In the course of the afternoon it commenced raining, and continued steadily throughout the night. The troops encamped for the night in Egyptian darkness, and what was worse, in a meadow fairly deluged with water.

"Well, what does all this mean?" inquired one of a crowd, huddled together, hooded by blanket and oil-cloth, protecting themselves as best they could from the falling rain, for sleep was out of question to all but the fortunate few who can slumber in puddles.

"What does it all mean, Charlie? Why it means a blind upon Uncle Abraham and his good people. That's what it means."

"Well, Lieutenant, I am surprised that a man of your usual reserve and correct conversation, should talk in that style about our commander."

"Sergeant, it is high time that not only individuals, whether reserved or not, but the people at large should denounce this delay that is wearing out the life of the nation. Weeks have passed since the battle of Antietam, and after repeated urgings on the part of the President, and repeated promises on the part of our commander, we have this beggarly apology for a movement. Yes, sir, apology for a movement. To-morrow's Dailies will tell in flaming capitals, how the Rebels were posted in large force in a strong position, and in line of battle upon the Oppequan, intimating thereby that further delay will be unavoidable to make our army equal to a movement. Now this humbugging an earnest people is unfair, unworthy of a great commander, and if he be humbugged himself again as with the Quaker guns at Manassas, the sooner the country knows it the better for its credit and safety. How can any living man tell that the batteries we saw to-day upon the ridge, are not the batteries we drove before us yesterday? The probability is that they are."

The speaker, as intimated by the Sergeant, was a man of reserve, quiet, and to the last degree inoffensive in his manner. A professing Christian, consistent in, and not ashamed of his profession, he had the respect of his command, and a friend in every acquaintance in the regiment. Educated for the ministry, he threw aside his theological text books on the outbreak of the Rebellion, and bringing into requisition some earlier lessons learned at a Military Academy, he opened a recruiting list with the zeal of a Puritan. It was not circulated, as is customary, in bar-rooms, but taking it to a rural district, he called a meeting in the Township Church, and in the faith of a Christian and the earnestness of a patriot, he eloquently proclaimed his purpose and the righteousness of the war. Success on a smaller scale, but like that of Peter the Hermit, followed his endeavor, and his quota of the Company was soon made up by the enlistment of nearly every able-bodied young man in the Township. His recruits fairly idolized him, and in their rougher and more unlettered way, were equally earnest advocates of the suppression of the Rebellion by any and every means.

"Your Abolitionism will crop out from time to time, like the ledges of rock in the country we have just been passing through," said a Junior Lieutenant.

"Call it Abolitionism, or what you will," replied his Senior. "I am for the suppression of the Rebellion by the speediest means possible. I am for the abolition of everything in the way of its suppression."

"You would abolish the Constitution, I suppose, if you thought it in the way."

"I would certainly amend the Constitution, had I the power, to suit the exigencies of the times. What is the Constitution worth without a country for it to control?"

"There it comes. Anything to ease the nigger."

"Yes, sir, I thank God that this Rebellion strikes a death-blow at slavery. That wherever a Federal bayonet gleams in a slave State, we can see a gleam of eternal truth lighting up the gloom of slavery. The recent Proclamation of the President was all that was needed to place our cause wholly upon the rock of God's justice, and on that base the gates of the hell of slavery and treason combined, shall not prevail against it."

"Preaching again, Lieutenant," said our Western Virginia Captain, who was the Lieutenant's Senior officer, as he strolled leisurely toward the crowd. "I tell you, Lieutenant, if Old Abe don't make better preparations to carry out his Proclamation, he had better turn Chinese General at once."

"Give him time, Captain. January 1 may bring preparations that we little dream of. At any rate, it places us in a proper position before the world. What ground had we to expect sympathy from the anti-slavery people of Europe, when we made no effort to release the millions enslaved in the South from bondage?"

"As far as using the negroes as soldiers is concerned, it seems a day behind the fair. It should have been issued earlier. Why, we could have had them by thousands in Western Virginny, and officers in our regiment, who were with him, tell me that Patterson could have mustered an army of them. Instead of that they were driven from his lines, and when they brought him correct information as to the Rebels at Winchester, it was 'don't believe the d——d nigger,' and all this while he dined and wined with the Rebel nabobs about Charlestown. Boys, we commenced this war wrong. I'm a Democrat, and always have been one; but I'm not afraid to say that we've all along been trying our best to make enemies of the only real friends we have inside of Rebel lines. Now, I don't like the nigger better than some of my neighbors; but in my opinion, a black Union man is better than a white Rebel any day. To say nothing of their fighting, why don't our Generals use them as servants, and why are they not our teamsters and laborers? Look at our able-bodied men detailed for servants about Pigeon-hole's Head-quarters."

"Well, Captain," interrupted the Sergeant, "Pigey has a big establishment, and see if the papers don't make him out a big General for this daring reconnoissance."

"This daring tomfoolery! If he'd come back to old Rosecrans with his story about a few pieces of artillery posted on a ridge, Rosy would want to know why the d——l he didn't find out what was behind them."

"He showed great experience a few weeks ago," continued the Sergeant, "when the Western fellows let off one of their ground blasts. 'Where did that shell explode?' inquired Pigey, galloping up with his staff and orderlies to our Regimental Head-quarters. 'I heard no shell,' says the Colonel. 'Nor I,' says the Lieut.-Colonel. 'I did hear a ground blast,' said the Lieut.-Colonel, 'such as the boys in the Regiment below occasionally make from the rebel cartridges they find.' 'Ground blast! h—l!' says the General, excitedly, his eyes flashing from under his crooked cocked hat: 'Don't you think that an officer of my experience and observation would be able to distinguish the explosion of a shell from that of a ground blast?' 'No shell exploded, General,' said the Colonel, 'within the limits of my regiment.' 'The d——l it didn't—would you have me disbelieve my own ears? Now, I have issued orders enough about permitting these unexploded shells to lie about, and I purpose holding the Colonels responsible for all damage. Suppose that explosion was heard at corps head-quarters, as it doubtless was, and the inquiry is made from what quarter the rebels threw the shell, what reply am I, as the commanding General of this division, to make?'

"'Tell them that it was a ground blast,' said a Second Lieutenant, politely saluting. 'I have just been down and saw the hole it made.'

"'You saw the hole! and just below here! The d——l you did! D—n the ground blasts!' and the General turned his horse's head and started towards division head-quarters at a full gallop, followed by his grinning staff."

"He's not to blame so much, boys," remarked the Captain. "He was a quiet clerk in the Topographical Department when the war broke out, I've been told, and I've no doubt he dusted the pigeon-holes in his charge carefully, and folded the papers neatly. When McClellan looked about for material to fill up his big staff with, who was so well calculated to attend to the topography of his battle-fields, considering that he fought so few, and most of those he had to fight on the Peninsula, the rebels got next day, as our Division General. Now, as Little Mac is not particularly noted for close acquaintance with rebel shells, the General has had small chance of knowing what kind of noise they do make when they burst. His great blunder, or rather, the Government's, is his taking command of a division, if it has but two brigades. I heard a Major say he had greatness thrust upon him. He's a small man in a big place. West Point has turned out some big men, like Rosecrans, Grant, Hooker, and many others that are a credit to the country—men of genuine talent, who have none of those foolish prejudices, that the regulars are the only soldiers, and that volunteers are a mere make-shift, that can't be depended upon. And West Point, like all other institutions, has had its share of small men, that come from it with just brains enough to carry a load of prejudice against volunteers and the volunteer service, and a very little knowledge of the ordinary run of military matters. An officer of real ability will never be a slave to prejudice. These small men are the Red-Tapists of the army—the Pigeon-Hole-Paper Generals, and being often elevated and privileged unduly, because they are from West Point, they play the very devil in their commands. Our corps commander, who was a teacher there, has brought a full share of the last kind into the corps.

"I wander about a good deal among other camps of this corps, pick up information and make myself acquainted without standing on ceremony. I never wait for that. I always had a habit of doing it, and I honestly believe, from what I see and hear, there has been a studied effort, from some high commander, to teach these young regular officers treason,—yes, boys, treason,—because when a man tells me that we can't conquer the Rebels, and that after a while we'll have to make peace, etc., I set him down for a traitor; he is aiding and abetting the enemies of his country. If that ain't treason I'd like to know what is."

"The Captain headed off a lot of young regulars the other evening a little the prettiest," said the Sergeant.

"Let's have it!" said a dozen in the crowd, now considerably increased.

"The Captain," continued the Sergeant, "had asked me to take a walk with him after dress-parade, and we strolled along the Sharpsburg road towards Corps Head-quarters. As we got just beyond the house and barn where the Rebel wounded are, we came upon a crowd of officers, commissioned and non-commissioned, and some privates. A quite young officer, with a milk-and-water face and a moustache like mildew on a damp Hardee, was talking very excitedly about the Administration not appreciating General McClellan; that there wasn't intellect enough there to appreciate a really great military genius; that European officers praised him as our greatest General, and that even the Rebel officers said that they feared him more than any of our Commanders; and yet all the while the Abolition Administration tied his hands and fettered his movements, and all because Little Mac wasn't crazy enough to say that the Rebels could be subjugated and their armies exterminated, as some fanatical Regulars and nearly all the Volunteer officers pretend to say. 'Now, I believe,' said the officer, thrusting his thumbs between his armpits and his vest, and puffing out his breast pompously, 'I believe, as Little Mac says, 'we can drive them to the wall;' we can lessen the limits of their country; but, gentlemen, after all, there will have to be a peace.'

"I thought," said the Sergeant, "the Captain was going to break in upon him here. He threw back his cap till the rim was on top of his head, rammed his hands into his pockets, and edged his way a little further into the crowd, towards the speaker; but he didn't, and the speaker went on to say:

"'There are the people, too, crazy about a forward movement. Why don't they come down and shoulder muskets themselves?'

"The Captain could hold in no longer. He drew his hands out of his pockets, straightened them along his side, like a game rooster stretching his wings just before a fight, and sidling up to the officer, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, he burst out—

"'Why don't they shoulder muskets themselves? I'll tell you why,—because we are here to do it for them. They have sent us, they pay us, and they've a right to talk, and I hope they will talk. Anything like a decent forward movement of this Corps would have saved the disgrace of the second Bull Run battle. We all know how the Corps lagged along the road-side, and the Rebel cannon all the while thundering in the ears of its Commander.'

"'A Volunteer officer, I suppose,' said the young officer, somewhat sneeringly. 'Where have you ever seen service?'

"'Yes, sir, a Volunteer officer,' said the Captain straightening up, facing full the officer, and eyeing him until his face grew paler. 'Where have I seen service? In Mexico, as private in the 4th Regular Artillery, while you were eating pap with a spoon, you puppy! You had better have stayed at that business; it was an honest one, at any rate, and Uncle Sam would have been saved some pay that you draw, while, like a dishonest sneak, you preach treason.'

"'How dare you insult a Regular officer?' said a gold-striped, dandified fellow, as he twisted the ends of his moustache into rat-tails.

"'Who the d——l are you?' said the Captain, turning on him so suddenly that the officer commenced to back; 'with your gold lace on your shoulders that may mean anything or nothing. What are you anyhow? Captain? Lieutenant? Clerk? or Orderly? Those straps are a good come off, boys.' The crowd laughed. 'I suppose he thinks he's a staff officer.'

"'I am, and a Lieutenant in the Regular army,' said the officer angrily, and giving the word 'Regular' the full benefit of his voice.

"'Regular and be d——d,' retorted the Captain. 'I want you both to understand that I am a Captain in the Volunteer service of the United States; that that service is by Act of Congress on a footing with the Regular service, and that I'll always talk in this style when I hear treason. I am the superior officer of you both, and have a right to talk to you. I've been in service since the Rebellion broke out, and by the mother of Moses, I never heard treason preached by officers in Uncle Sam's uniform till I got into this Corps. It makes my blood boil, and I won't stand it. Pretty doctrine you are trying to teach these soldiers; but I know by their faces they understand the matter better than you, and you can't do them any damage.' 'That's so,' sang out several of the crowd. 'You fellows all talk alike. I have heard dozens of you talk in the same way, and I believe your ideas are stocked from a higher source. There is something wrong in the head of this Grand Army of the Potomac. The way it's managed, grand only in reviews.'

"'We shall report you, sir,' said the Rat-tailed Moustache, 'for speaking disrespectfully of your superior officers.'

"'Report as quick as you please. About that time you'll find another report at the War Department, against two Regular Lieutenants, for speaking discouraging and disloyal sentiments.'

"'A Volunteer officer would stand a big chance at the Department making a complaint against Regulars,' said the officer, as they both backed out of the crowd, followed by a couple of non-commissioned officers and privates.

"'You d——d butterflies,' roared the Captain after them. 'I'll bet ten dollars to one that you only stayed in service when the war broke out, because you thought you could trust greenbacks better than Confederate scrip.'

"'You shall hear from us,' replied Rat-tail, as they walked on.

"'Am ready to hear from both at once now, you cowardly sneaks,' sang out the Captain. 'Don't believe you ever smelt powder, or ever will, if you can help it.'

"'Boys,' said the Captain, who had the sympathies of the crowd that remained strongly with him. 'These shallow-brained fellows and some older ones that wear stars, that havn't head enough to cut loose from the Red-tape prejudice against us Volunteers, are a curse to the Army of the Potomac. Is it any wonder that this Grand Army, burdened with squirts of that stripe, is a burlesque and a disgrace to the country for its inefficiency. In the West, where Regular officers, unprejudiced, go hand in hand with Volunteers, we make progress. But what's the use of talking, the body won't move right if the heart's rotten.'

"'True as preachin',' said one of the men, and the sentiment seemed approved by the crowd, as we gradually took up the homeward step."

"Has the Sergeant told 'the whole truth,' and nothing but the truth?" inquired a Lieutenant, a lawyer at home, of the Captain.

"Yes, sir," replied the Captain firmly, "and I'll stick by the whole of it, and a good deal more."

"Well, I've been slow about believing many statements that I have heard," continued the Lieutenant; "but to-day I heard some facts from a Colonel in the Second Brigade that fairly staggered me. His Regiment, through some Red-tape informality, has been without tents. In consequence, considerable sickness, principally fever, has prevailed. Some time ago he made a request to Division Head-quarters, for permission to clean out and use the white house that stands near his Regiment, and that, until lately, was full of wounded rebels, as a hospital. Corps Head-quarters must be heard from. After considerable delay, the men in the meanwhile sickening and dying, the request was denied. The sickness, through the rains, increased, and the application was renewed with like success. The owner, who was a Rebel sympathizer, was opposed, and other like excuses, that in the urgency of the case should not have been considered at all, were given. The sickness became alarming in extent. The Regiment was entirely without shelter, save that made from the few pine boughs to be had in the neighborhood. The Colonel took some boards that the rebels had spared from the fence surrounding the house, and with them endeavored to increase the comfort of the men. In the course of a day or two, a bill was sent to him from Head-quarters, with every board charged at its highest value, with the request to pay, and with notice that in failure of immediate payment the amount would be charged upon his pay-roll. This treatment disgusted the Colonel, who is a gentleman of high tone and the kindliest feelings, and angered by the heartlessness that denied him proper shelter for his sick, now increased to a number frightfully large, with a heavy share of mortality, he cut red-tape, sent over a detail to the house, had it cleansed of Rebel filth, and filled it with the sick. The poor fellows were hardly comfortable in their new quarters, before an order came from Division Head-quarters for their immediate removal.

"'I have no place to take them to; they are sick, and must be under shelter,' was the Colonel's reply.

"'The Commanding General of the Division orders their instant removal,' was the order that followed.

"'The Commanding General of Division must take the responsibility of their removal on his own head,' was the spirited reply of the Colonel.

"That evening towards sunset, the second edition of Old Pigeon, 'Squab,' as the boys called him, rode up with the air of 'one having authority,' and in a conceited manner informed the Colonel that the General commanding the Division had directed him to place him under arrest. Now these things I know to be facts. I took pains to inform myself."

The Lieutenant's story elicited many ejaculations of contempt for the heartlessness of some in high places; but they were cut short by the Captain's stating that he knew the circumstances to be true, and that Old Pigeon stated the Colonel should wait for his hospital tents, the requisition for which had been sent up months before. It was shelved in some pigeon-hole, and the Colonel was to stand by and see his men sicken and die, while a rebel farmer's house near by would have saved many of them.

"But we're in for it, boys. No use of talking. Obedience is lesson No. 1 of the soldier, and you know that we must not 'mutter or murmur' against our Commanding General, which position Old Pigey so often reminds us he holds. The old fellow half suspects that if he didn't, we'd forget it from day to day; for Lord knows there is nothing about the man but his position to make any one remember it. Now I am determined to have some sleep."

"Sleep! such a night as this?" said one of the crowd.

"Of course; we'll need it to-morrow, and an old soldier ought to be able to sleep anywhere, in any kind of weather."

The Captain left. There was a partial dispersing of the crowd, but many a poor fellow shivered in that pelting rain the night long.

The morning found the enemy at a respectful distance, and the homeward route was quietly resumed. Late in the afternoon the advance entered Shepherdstown. At this time the rear was shelled vigorously, and as the troops continued their passage through the town cavalry charges were made upon both sides. That only ford was again crossed, and the evening was well advanced ere the troops regained their camps.

A day later, and the Dailies, through their respective reporters, told an astonished public how the brilliant and daring reconnoissance had discovered qualities of great generalship in a man who but a short time before had figured as a quiet literary man in the seclusion of an office.

"And, be jabers," said our little Irish Corporal, on hearing it read, "Uncle Sam would have gained by paying him to stay in that office."



CHAPTER X.

Departure from Sharpsburg Camp—The Old Woman of Sandy Hook—Harper's Ferry—South sewing Dragon's Teeth by shedding Old John's Blood—The Dutch Doctor and the Boar—Beauties of Tobacco—Camp Life on the Character—Patrick, Brother to the Little Corporal—General Patterson no Irishman—Guarding a Potatoe Patch in Dixie—The Preacher Lieutenant on Emancipation—Inspection and the Exhorting Colonel—The Scotch Tailor on Military Matters.

October was drawing to a close rapidly, when, at last, after repeated false alarms, the actual movement of the army commenced. No one, unless himself an old campaigner, can appreciate the feelings of the soldier at the breaking up of camp. Anxious for a change of scenery as he may be, the eye will linger upon each familiar spot, the quarters, the parade ground, and rocky bluff and wooded knoll, until memory's impress bears the lasting distinctness of a lifetime. Those leaving could not banish from their minds, even if disposed, the thought that, although but a temporary sojourn for them, it had proved to be the last resting-place of many of their comrades. The hospital, more dreaded than the field, had contributed its share to the mounds that dotted the hills from the strife of Antietam.

"There is not an atom of this earth But once was living man—"

was a day dream, doubtless, of the poetic boy of eighteen; but how suggestive it becomes, when we consider how many thousands and hundreds of thousands of mounds rising upon every hill in the border States, attest devotion to the cause of the Union, or treason, in this foulest of Rebellions.