I Demonstrate that Gambling Does Not Pay--I Cause a General
Stampede--Christmas in the Pine Woods of Alabama--Millions
of Dollars, but no Christmas Dinner.
When I went away from the party of officers, where we had been playing
draw-poker, with a hundred dollars in my pocket, which I had won from
men who thought they were pretty good poker players, I felt as though
I owned the earth. I had my hand in my pocket, hold of the roll of
greenbacks, and in that way constantly realized that I was no common
pauper. I had never thought that I was an expert at cards, but this
triumph convinced me that there was more money to be made playing poker
than in any other way. I figured up in my mind that if I could win a
hundred dollars a night, and only played five nights a week, I could
lay up two thousand dollars a month. To keep it up a year would make me
rich, and if the war lasted a couple of years I could go home with money
enough to buy out the best newspaper in Wisconsin. It is wonderful
what a train of thought a young man's first success in gambling, or
speculation, brings to him. I went to bed with my hundred dollars
buttoned inside my flannel shirt, and dreamed all night about holding
four aces, full hands, and three of a kind. All that night, in my sleep,
I never failed to “fill” when I drew to a hand. I made up my mind
to break every officer in the regiment, at poker, and then turn my
attention to other regiments, and win all the money the paymaster should
bring to the brigade. I got up in the morning with a headache, and
thought how long it would be before night, when we could play poker
again, and I wondered why we couldn't play during the day, as there was
nothing else going on. It got rumored around the regiment that I had
cleaned the officers out at poker the night before, and the boys seemed
glad that a private had made them pay attention. I had not yet got my
commsssion, and so any victory I might achieve was considered a victory
for a private soldier. Several of the boys congratulated me. The nearest
I ever come to quarreling with my old partner, Jim, was over this poker
business. I showed him my roll, and told him how I had cleaned the
officers out, and instead of feeling good over it, Jim said I was a
confounded fool. I tried to argue the matter with Jim, but he couldn't
be convinced, and insisted that they had made a fool of me, and had let
me win on purpose, and that they would win it all back, and all I had
besides. He said I had better let the chaplain take the hundred dollars
to keep for me, and stay away from that poker game, and I would be
a hundred ahead, but I didn't want any second-class chaplain to be a
guardian over me, and I told Jim I was of age, and could take care of
myself. Jim said he thought I had some sense before I was commsssioned,
but it had spoiled me. He said in less than a week I would be borrowing
money of him. I knew better, and went around camp with my thumbs stuck
in my armholes, and felt big. It was an awful long day, but I put in the
time thinking how I would draw cards, and bet judiciously, and finally
night came, and I went over to the major's tent, where the officers
usually congregated. I was early, and had to wait half an hour before
the crowd showed up. As they came in each had something to say to me.
“Here's the man who walked off with our wealth last night,” said one.
“Here's our victim,” said another. “We will send him to his tent tonight
without a dollar.” They chaffed me a good deal, but I made up my mind
that I could play as well as they could, and some of them were old
fellows that had played poker before I was born. Well, we went to work,
and the first hand I got I lost ten dollars. It was the history of all
smart Aleck's, and there is no use of going into details. In less than
an hour they had won the hundred dollars, and fifty that I had sewed
inside my shirt to keep for a rainy day, and they had joked me every
time I bet until I was exasperated to such an extent that I could have
killed them. Winning or losing money with them was a mere pastime, and
they seemed to enjoy losing about as much as winning. I was too proud,
or too big a fool to leave the game when I had lost all I had, and I
borrowed a little of each of them, and lost it, and then I said I was
tired and I guessed I would go to bed, and I went out, dizzy and sick at
heart, and the officers laughed so I could hear them clear to my tent. On
the way to my tent, and as I walked around for half an hour before going
there, I thought over what a fool I was, how I had forgotten all the
good advice ever given me by my friends. Knowing that I was not intended
by nature for a gambler, I had gone in with my eyes open, made a
temporary success, got the big head, as all boys do, and gone back and
laid down my bundle, and become the laughing stock of the whole crowd.
I figured up that I was just an even hundred dollars out of pocket, and
decided that I would never try to get it back. I would simply swear off
gambling right there, forget that I knew one card from another, pay up
my gambling debts when I got my first pay, and never touch a card again.
That was the wisest conclusion that I ever come to. After I had walked
around until my head cleared off a little, I went in the tent sly and
still, to go to bed without letting Jim hear me. I was ashamed, and
didn't want to talk. I heard Jim roll over on his bunk, and he said:
“Bet ten dollars, pard, that you lost all you had.”
“Jim, I won't bet with you. I have sworn off betting intirely.”
“Help yourself,” said Jim, as he reached over his greasy old pocketbook
to me. “Take all you want, now that you have come to your senses. But
you must admit that what I said about your being a fool, was true.”
“Yes, and an idiot, and an ass,” I said, as I handed back Jim's money.
“But that settles it. I will never gamble another cent's worth as long
as I live, and if I see a friend of mine gambling, I will try and break
him of the habit. There is nothing in it, and I went to sleep, and
didn't dream any more about winning all the money in camp.”
Two days before Christmas our cavalry, consisting of a full brigade,
started on a raid, or a march through the enemy's country, and as I
could not act as an officer very well, before my commission arrived, and
as the colonel seemed to hate to see me in the ranks when I was looked
upon as an officer, he sent me to brigade headquarters on a detail to
carry the brigade colors. The brigade colors consisted of a blue guidon,
on a pole. The butt end of the pole, or staff, was inserted in a socket
of leather fastened to my stirrup, and I held on to the staff with my
right hand when on the march, guiding my horse with my left hand, When
the command halted the colors were planted in the ground in front of
the place which the brigade commander had selected. On the march I rode
right behind the brigade commander and his staff, with the body guard
to protect the precious colors. I was glad of this position, because it
took me among high officials, and if there was anything I doted, on it
was high officers. The colonel had told me that I must be on my good
behavior, and salute the officers of the staff, whenever they came
near me. He said the brigade commander was a strict disciplinarian, and
wouldn't put up with any monkey business. The first hour of my service
as color bearer came near breaking up the brigade. I was perhaps forty
feet behind the brigade commander and his staff, riding as stiff as
though I was a part of the horse, and feeling as proud as though I owned
the army. Suddenly the colonel and staff turned out of the road, and
faced to the rear, and started to ride back to one of the regiments in
the rear. I saw them coming, and felt that I must salute them. How to
do it was a puzzle to me. If I saluted with my left hand, it would be
wrong, besides I would have to drop the reins, and my horse might start
to run, as he was prancing and putting on as much style as I was. If I
saluted with my right hand, I should have to let go the flag staff. The
salute must be sudden, so I could grasp the staff very quick, before it
toppled over. It took a great head to decide what to do, and I had to
decide quick. Just as the brigade commander got opposite me I let go the
flag stair, brought my right hand quickly to the right eye, as nice a
salute as a man ever saw, and returned it to grab the flag stall. But it
was too late. As soon as my right hand let go of the staff, it fell over
and the gilt dart on the end of the staff struck the general's horse in
the flank, he jumped sideways against the adjutant-general's horse, and
his horse fell over the brigade surgeon's horse, the general's horse run
under a tree, and brushed the general off, and the whole staff was wild
trying to hold their horses, and jumping to catch the general's horse,
and pick the general off the ground. In the meantime my horse had got
frightened at the staff and flag that was dragging on the ground, with
one end in the socket in the stirrup, the pole tickling him in the
ribs, and he began to dance around, and whirl, and knock members of the
color-guard off their horses, and they stampeded to the woods leaving me
in the road, on a frightened horse, whirliing around, unmanageable, the
start striking trees and horses, until the staff was broken.
The regiment in the rear of us saw the commotion, saw the general
dismounted, and the colors on the ground, and a general stampede in
front, and, thinking the general and staff had been ambushed by the
rebels, and many killed, the colonel ordered his men forward on a
charge, and, in less time than it takes to write it, the woods were
full of charging soldiers, looking for an imaginary enemy, a surgeon
had opened up a lot of remedies, and all was confusion, and I was the
innocent cause of it all. I had seen my mistake as soon as the flag
staff knocked the general off his horse, and when I dismounted and
picked up the flag, and the pieces of the staff, and found myself
surrounded by excited troops, I wondered if the general would pull his
revolver and shoot me himself, or order some of the soldiers to kill me.
For choice I had rather have been killed by a volley from a platoon of
soldiers, but I recognized the fact that the general had a perfect right
to kill me. In fact I wanted him to shoot me. I was trimming the limbs
off a sapling for a makeshift flag staff, when I saw the crowd open, and
the general walked towards me. His face was a trifle pale, except where
the red clay from the road covered it, and I felt that the next moment
or two would decide in what manner I was to meet my doom. I remembered
what the colonel had told me, about the general being a strict
disciplinarian, and wondered if it wouldn't help matters if I should
fall on my knees and say a little prayer, or ask him to spare my life.
I wondered if I would be justified in drawing my revolver and trying to
get the drop on the general. But I had no time to think it over, for he
come right up to me, and said:
“I beg your pardon, my young friend, for the trouble and annoyance I
have caused you. I should have known better than to ride so near you,
and frighten your horse, when you had only one hand to guide the animal.
Are you hurt? No; well, I am very glad. Ah, the flag staff is broken!
Let me help you tack the flag on the sapling. Orderly, bring me some
nails. Let me whittle the bark off the sapling, so it will not hurt your
hands. When we get into camp tonight, and the wagons come up, I will see
that you have another staff. There, don't feel bad about it. There is no
damage.”
Bless his soul! I could, have hugged him for his kindness. When he came
towards me, I was mad and desperate, and when he spoke kind words to
me, my chin trembled, and I felt like a baby. He stopped the brigade for
half an hour, to help fix up my flag, and all the time talked so kindly
to me, that when the thing was fixed, I felt remorse of conscience, and
said: “General, I am entirely to blame myself. I tried to perform the
impossible feat of saluting you and holding the colors at the same time,
which I am satisfied now cannot be done successfully. Lay it all to me.”
“I knew it,” said the good old general, “and I was going to tell you
that you are not expected to salute anybody when you have the colors.
You are a part of the flag, then. You will learn it all by and by,” and
he mounted his horse and rode away about his business, as cool as though
nothing had happened, and left me feeling that he was the best man on
earth. Further acquaintance with the old man taught me that he was one
of nature's noblemen. He was an Illinois farmer, who had enlisted as a
private, and had in time become colonel of his regiment, and had been
placed in command of this brigade. Every evening he would take an axe
and cut up fire-wood enough for headquarters, and he was not above
cleaning off his horse if his servant was sick, or did not do it to
suit, and frequently I have seen him greasing his own boots.
Two days out, and we were in the pine woods of Alabama, with no
habitation within ten miles. After a day's march we went into camp in
the woods, and it was the afternoon before Christmas. The young pines,
growing among the larger ones, were just such little trees as were used
at home for Christmas trees, and within an hour after getting the camp
made, every man thought of Christmas at home. The boys went off into
the woods and got holly, and mistletoe, and every pup tent of the whole
brigade was decorated, and they hung nose bags, grain sacks, army socks
and pants on the trees. Around the fires stakes had been driven to hang
clothes on to dry, and as night came and the pitch pine fires blazed
up to the tops of the great pines, it actually looked like Christmas,
though there was not a Christmas present anywhere. After supper the
brigade band began to play patriotic airs, with occasionally an old
fashioned tune, like “Old Hundred,” the woods rung with music from the
boys who could sing, and everybody was as happy as I ever saw a crowd
of people, and when it came time to retire the band played “Home, Sweet
Home,” and three thousand rough soldiers went to bed with tears in their
eyes, and every man dreamed of the dear ones at home, and many prayed
that the home ones might be happy, and in the morning they all got up,
stripped the empty Christmas stockings off the evergreen trees, put
them on, and went on down the red road, and at noon the army entered
Montgomery, Alabama, the first capital of the confederate states, took
possession of the capital building in which were millions of dollars of
confederate money and bonds. Every soldier filled his pockets and saddle
bags with bonds and bills of large denominations. It was a poor soldier
that could not count up his half a million dollars, but with all the
money no man could buy a Christmas dinner. A dollar in greenbacks would
buy more than all of the wagon loads of confederate currency captured
that day. And yet the people of Montgomery looked upon the arrival of
the Yankees much as they would the arrival of a pestilence. However,
it was not many days before a better understanding was arrived at, and
Yankee blue and Confederate gray got mixed up, and acquaintances were
made that ripened into mutual respect and in some cases love.