Sheridan's name is one which will be forever linked with the history of
our country. He was a brave officer, a dashing leader, but we used to
think the possessor of the most abominable temper that ever man was
blessed or cursed with, and whenever he would ride past with his staff,
the weary legs of the men would straighten up, and for a while a new
life would seem to inspire us. Whether it was that unknown power that
causes some men to be more fitted for the duties of leading men, than
others, or whether it was a fear that we might receive a broadside of
his oaths, we do not know, but at any rate, during the short time he
would ride by, things would assume a more soldierly appearance; a little
more order. We remember one afternoon, when along with a comrade, we had
managed in some way, to drift considerably to the rear. We were plodding
along, however, chatting together, until we came to a sutler who had
opened up his wagon of sutler's goods, and was doing a good business
with the boys as they marched by. We went up and purchased some cheese
and crackers, and placing them in our hats, proceeded to a little mound
at the foot of a large tree, to eat them. There we sat munching our
crackers and cheese, making remarks on the passers by, and occasionally
enjoying a bit of chaff with some fellow, until we began to wonder how
many men there could be coming, for by this time we had been there quite
a while, and still the stream of humanity flowed by, still the same
panorama of infantry, cavalry and artillery, passed before us, and we
had come to the conclusion to stay there until they all went by, never
once thinking of what a time we would have to catch up with our command.
Just at this moment, when we had come to the conclusion to see the end
of it, up rode General Sheridan with his staff and orderlies pressing on
to the front. We were a little fearful he might see us, but we thought
that in all that multitude of humanity and life, we surely were of but
small moment, and would escape his eye. But we were doomed to
disappointment, for suddenly this salutation, short and decidedly to the
point, rang upon our ears: "You men of the 125th Ills., what in —— are
you doing there. Move on;" and filling the air full of the hottest oaths
aimed at our defenseless heads we incontinently gathered up our hats,
with the remnants of our lunch and started for our regiment, which by
this time was far in advance. But as we walked along, we were thinking
how it was that Sheridan knew we were members of the 125th, was it by
any peculiarity in our movements, or was it a part of his business, as
general, to know the members of each regiment in his division. Our
appreciation of his merits as a great commander were rising rapidly, and
we had come to the conclusion that he must have a wonderful memory. So
on we went wondering to each other how it was. Suddenly my companion
stopped short. "Bob," says he, "I know how it was that old Sheridan knew
us."
"How," we asked.
"Why, you old fool, he read it on our knapsacks."
True enough, that was the solution of the problem, for before leaving
Louisville, the writer had procured a bottle of white paint, and a
brush, and had painted in large letters on each fellow's knapsack, his
name, company and regiment. This it was that had revealed to the general
our proper place, we had forgotten all about it. We laughed heartily
over the matter, and agreed to erase from our knapsacks the tell-tale
letters as soon as we arrived in camp.
We were by this time getting well down into Kentucky, and every day we
marched through villages and towns, which, but a few short weeks before,
had been filled with sounds of life and business activity; but now
everything was at a stand still; the store houses deserted, and their
doors swinging idly on their hinges, revealing to the passer by naught
but a collection of empty shelves and bare counters. The houses, even,
were, for the most part, deserted of their occupants. War with its black
and devastating influence, was abroad in the land. It was on a Sunday
afternoon that we reached Bardstown, a place of considerable size, and
as it seemed to us, a place where considerable business had been carried
on, but now all was changed. We had been marching very slowly that day,
halting every few moments and then advancing. Just as we entered
Bardstown the bugle sounded the "Halt," and our line was directly in
front of a large brick house, the doors of which were wide open, and
coming and going through them were many officers, from the general down
to lieutenant. We were tired and travel worn, so we proposed to our
partner that we would go and see if some good water could be had.
Leaving our place in the ranks we started for the house, and boldly
marched in. Our aim was for the kitchen, and as we passed down the hall
of the house we could not prevent ourself from looking through the doors
of the parlors, as we judged them to be, for they were wide open, and
there we saw the remains of what had been a grand feast. We dared not
enter, but passed on down the hall, until a slight obstruction in the
shape of a little second lieutenant came across our path, and the demand
from him of what we were doing there. We replied we wanted water, but
did not stop to listen to any remark he might have to make. Just as we
reached the back door, a colored waiter boy, belonging to the house,
came tearing in, bearing in his hands a pitcher of water going to the
parlor. We collared this son of Ham, and demanded that he procure for us
a canteen of whisky, with the promise that if he did we would pay him
for it. His eyes rolled up in astonishment, and perhaps a little fear,
for we were rather vigorous in our demand, and with a "Lor! bress you
massa, dar hain't a drap of whisky in de house," he essayed to leave us,
but we had a good hold on him, and were going to keep it. We knew he was
lying to us, for we had caught a whiff of his breath, which gave him
away entirely, as it was redolent of the fumes of "bourbon." He saw we
were in earnest, and quickly whispering "come dis way sah," he opened a
door in the hall and bid us enter, and wait until he returned. We
entered what was, to all appearances, a bed-room, neatly fitted up with
furniture, and in one corner a bed of huge dimensions, covered with the
whitest and daintiest of counterpanes. It was the first bed we had seen
for weeks, and regardless of our dusty clothes, and remembering only
that we were tired, and in the enemies' land, we flung ourself, knapsack
and all, upon its broad and ample surface. There we laid, resting our
weary limbs and looking up at the ceiling, wondering how much longer it
would be before our sable friend would appear. The moments kept slipping
by, and at last, with a tremendous effort, we raised ourself from the
bed intending to return to the regiment. We approached the door and
essayed to open it, it was—locked. For a moment we were non-plussed; had
we come this far from home to be captured by a "nigger" in this way?
What a fool we had been to enter there, but directly other thoughts came
into our minds, and we again threw ourself upon the bed with the
intention that, if we were captured, we would get all the rest we could
out of that bed before we were marched off by rebel guards. But
imprisonment was not to be our fate at that time, for suddenly the door
flew open, and in came our colored friend, bearing in his hand a large
pitcher, which proved to contain, to the very top of it, as good whisky
as we had ever drank. To empty the contents of the pitcher into our
canteen, was but the work of a moment, and giving our friend a
green-back dollar, at which he looked with surprise and earnestly
enquired "Is dis good money, massa?" We assured him that it was, and
hastened out to find the regiment. Luckily it had not moved from where
we had left it, and we fell into place alongside of our partner, to
whose thirsty lips my canteen was soon applied. The bugle sounded
"forward," and we went, but as a truthful chronicler we are bound to
state that under the exhilarating and inspiriting contents of my
canteen, my partner soon became hilarious, and when we reached camp I
was doing double duty, inasmuch as I was carrying his gun and my own
also. It was not the length but the breadth of the road that troubled
him. But no evil consequences resulted from it, and as it was winked at
by the officers, no harm was done, and the next morning found him all
right, and ready for the incidents of the day.