Our Party of Recruits own the Earth--We Live High, Give a
Ball, and go to the Guard-House--And are Arrested by Colored
Troops.
Let's see, I forget whether I have ever told about getting strung up on
a bayonet, near New Orleans, when I first went south as a recruit. It
was before I had joined my regiment, and I was with a gang of recruits,
all looking for the regiments we had enlisted in. We had come down from
St. Louis on a steamboat, our regiments being scattered all over the
Department of the Gulf. We were not in any particular hurry to find our
regiments, as the longer we kept away from them the less duty we would
have to do. I do not think, out of the whole forty recruits, there was
one who was in the least hurry to find his regiment, and none of them
would have known their regiments if they had seen them, unless somebody
told them. They had enlisted just as it happened, all of them hoping the
war would be over before they found where they belonged. They didn't know
anybody in their respective regiments, hence there were no ties binding
them. But they had been together for several months, as recruits, until
all had got well acquainted, and if they could have been formed into
a company, for service together, they might have done pretty good
fighting. The crowd was becoming smaller, as every day or two some
recruit would come and bid us all good bye. He had actually stumbled on
to his regiment, and when the officers of an old regiment, in examining
recruits, found one assigned to his regiment, he never took his eyes
off the recruit until he was landed. I have seen some very affecting
partings, when one of our gang would find where he belonged and had to
leave us, perhaps never to meet again. The gang was rapidly dropping
apart, and when we got to New Orleans there were only twenty or so
left. We reported to the commanding officer, and he quartered us at
Carrollton, near the city, in what had once been a beer-garden and
dance-house. We slept on the floor of the dance-house, cooked our meals
out in the garden, spread our food on the old beer tables, and imagined
we were proprietors of the place, or guests of the government. We always
ordered beer or expensive wines with our meals. Not that we ever got
any beer or wine, because the beer garden was deserted, but we put on a
great deal of style.
We found a lot of champagne bottles out in the back yard, and I do not
think I ever took a meal there without having a champagne bottle sitting
beside me on the table, and when any citizens were passing along the
street we would take up the bottles, look at the label in a scrutinizing
way, as though not exactly certain in our minds whether we were getting
as good wine as we were paying for. The old empty bottles gave us a
standing in Carrollton society that nothing else could have given us.
Some of the boys got so they could imitate the popping of a champagne
cork to perfection, by placing one finger in the mouth, prying the cheek
around on one side, and letting it fly open suddenly. We would have
several of the boys with aprons on, and when anybody was passing on the
street, one of us would call, “Waiter open a bottle of that extra dry.”
The waiter would say, “Certainly, sah,” take a bottle between his knees,
run his finger in his mouth and make it pop, and then pretend to pour
out the champagne in glasses, imitating the “fizzing” perfectly. It was
the extra dryest champagne that I ever had. But all that foolishness had
the desired effect. It convinced the citizens of Carrollton that we were
no ordinary soldiers. We were all nicely dressed, had no guards, and
apparently no officers, had plenty of money, which we spent freely at
the stores, and the impression soon got out that we were on some special
service, and there was, of course, much curiosity to know our business.
I learned that we were looked upon as secret service men, and I told the
boys about it, and advised them not to tell that we were recruits, but
to put on an air of mystery, and we would have fun while we remained.
One day an oldish gentleman who lived near, and who had a fine orange
plantation, or grove, toward which we had cast longing eyes, called at
the dance-house where we were quartered. We had just finished our frugal
meal, and the empty bottles were being taken away. He addressed me, and
said, “Good day, Colonel.” I responded as best I could, and invited him
to be seated. I apologized for not offering him a glass of champagne,
but told him we had cracked the last bottle, and would not have any more
until the next day, as I had only that morning requested my friend, the
general commanding at New Orleans, to send me a fresh supply, which he
would do at once, I had no doubt. Well, you ought to have seen the boys
try to keep from laughing, stuffing handkerchiefs in their mouths, etc.
But not a man laughed. The old citizen said it was no matter, as he
would drop in the next day, and drink with us. We talked about the war,
and it is my impression he was anxious for us to believe he was a loyal
man. But after a while he asked me what particular duty I was on, there
at Carrollton. I hesitated a moment, and finally told him that I hoped
he would excuse me for not telling him, but the fact was it would be as
much as my “commission” would be worth to unfold any of my plans. I
told him that time alone would reveal the object of our being there, and
until such time as my government thought it best to make it public, it
was my duty as an officer, to keep silent. He said certainly, that was
all right, and he admired me for keeping my own counsel. (I was probably
the highest private and rawest recruit in the army.) He said there was a
natural curiosity on the part of the people of Carrollton to know who
we were, as we lived so high, and seemed such thorough gentlemen. I
admitted that we were thorough gentlemen, and thanked him for the high
opinion that the cultured people of Carrollton had of us. He wound up
by pointing to his orange grove, and said he-would consider it a special
favor if we would consider ourselves perfectly free to go there and help
ourselves at any time, and particularly that evening, as a number of
young people would be at his house for a quiet dance. I told him that
a few of us would certainly be present, and thanked him kindly. When he
was gone I told the boys, and they wanted to give three cheers, but I
got them to keep still, and we talked all the afternoon of the soft snap
we had struck, and cleaned up for the party. My intention was to pick
out half a dozen of the best dressed, recruits, those that could make a
pretty fair showing in society to go with me, but they all wanted to
go, and there was no way to prevent it, so all but one Irishman, that we
hired to stay and watch our camp, went. Well, we ate oranges fresh from
the trees, joined in the dance, ate refreshments, and drank the old
gentleman's wine, and had a good time, made a good impression on the
ladies, and went back to camp at midnight. On the way over to the party
I told the boys the gentleman was coming to see us the next day, and we
should have to get a bottle of champagne some-where, to treat him, as I
had told him we expected, some more up from the city. When we came back
from the party a German recruit pulled a bottle of champagne out of his
pocket, which he had stolen from the man's house in order to treat him
with the next day. The gentleman came over to our quarters the next day,
and we opened our bottle, and he drank to our very good health, though I
thought he looked at the label on the bottle pretty close. For a week
we frequented the gentleman's orange grove every day, and ate oranges to
our heart's content.
Several times during the week we were invited to different houses, where
we boys became quite interested in the fair girls of Louisiana. It was
ten days from the time we settled in the beer garden, and we had kept
our secret well. Nobody in Carrollton knew that we were raw recruits
that had never seen a day of service, but the impression was still
stronger than ever that we were pets of the government. We had an old
map of the United States that we had borrowed at a saloon, and during
the day we would hang the map up and surround it, while I pointed out
imaginary places to attack. This we would do while people were passing.
Everything was working splendidly, and we decided to give a party.
We hired a band to play in the dance house, ordered refreshments, and
invited about forty ladies and gentlemen to attend. The day we were to
give the party we sent a recruit down town to draw rations, and he told
everybody what a high old time we recruits were having at Carrollton.
The commanding officer heard of it, and, probably having forgotten
that we were up there waiting to be sent to our regiments he sent a
peremptory order for us to report at New Orleans before noon of that
day. How could we report at noon, when we were going to give a party at
night? It was simply impossible, and I, as a sort of breast corporal in
charge, sent a man down town to tell the commanding officer that we had
an engagement that night, and couldn't come before the next day. I did
not know that it was improper to send regrets to a commanding officer
when ordered to do anything. The man I sent down to New Orleans came
back and I asked him what the general said. The man said he read the
note and said, “The hell they can't come till tomorrow. The impudence of
the recruits. They will come tonight!” I did not believe we would. In
my freshness I did not believe that any commander of troops would
deliberately break up a ball, and humiliate brave soldiers. I thought
my explanation to the commander that we had an engagement, would be
sufficient, that he would see that it was impossible to hurry matters.
We had been to a good deal of expense, and it was our duty, after
accepting the hospitalities of those people, to pay our indebtedness in
the only way we knew how, and so, as the boys had gathered around me
to see what was to be done, I said, “On with the dance. Let joy be
unconfined.”
Our guests arrived on time, and shortly after it became dark, the Dutch
band we had hired from, a beer hall down town, struck up some sort of
foreign music, and “there was a sound of revelry by night.” We danced
half a dozen times, smiled sweetly on our guests, walked around the
paths of the old garden, flirted a little perhaps, and talked big
with the male guests, and convinced them anew that we were regular old
battle-scarred vets, on detached duty of great importance. Near midnight
we all set down to lunch, around the beer tables, and everything was
going along smooth. The old gentleman who had been first to make our
acquaintance, and who had been the means of getting us into society,
proposed as a toast, “Our brave and generous hosts,” and the boys called
upon me to respond. I got up on a bench and was making a speech that, if
I had been allowed to continue, would have been handed down in
history as one of the ablest of our time. It was conciliatory in tone,
calculated to cement a friendship between the army and the citizens of
the south, and show that while we were engaged in war, there was nothing
mean about us, and that we loved our neighbors as ourselves. I was just
getting warmed up, and our guests had spatted their hands at some of my
remarks, when I heard a tramp, tramp, tramp on the sidewalk outside, and
before I could breathe a squad of infantry soldiers had filed into the
garden, surrounded the dance-house, a dozen had formed in line before
the door, and a sergeant had walked in and ordered the citizens to
disperse, and said the recruits were under arrest. Well, I have been
in some tight places in my life, but that was the closest place I ever
struck. The old gentleman, the leader of our guests, turned to me and
asked what this all meant, and I told him to be calm, and I would fix
everything. I got down off the bench and approached the sergeant,
to argue the thing. I found that he was, a colored man, and that his
soldiers were also colored troops. This was the unkindest cut of all.
I could stand it to be arrested by white soldiers, but the sending of a
lot of “niggers” after us white fellows was more than human nature could
bear. We had most of us been Democrats before enlisting, and had never
looked upon the colored man with that respect that we learned to
do, later. I went up to the sergeant, as brave as I could, and said,
“Look-a-here, boss, you have made a dreadful mistake. We are gentlemen,
enjoying ourselves, and this interruption on your part will cost you
dear. Now go away with your men, quietly, and I promise you, on
the honor of a gentleman, that I will not report you, and have you
punished,” and I looked at him in a tone of voice that I thought
would convince him that I was a friend if he should go away, but if he
remained it would be at his peril.
He said he didn't want any foolishness, or some of us would get hurt,
and just then one of the Irish recruits, who had tried to skin out the
back way, got jabbed in the pants by a bayonet, and he began to howl
and cuss the “niggers.” The sergeant called up half a dozen of his sable
guard, and they surrounded me and some of the boys. Our guests were
becoming frightened, ladies had put on-their wraps, and there was a good
deal of confusion, when I shouted, “Boys, are we going to submit to
this insult on the part of a lot of nigger field hands? Never! To the
rescue!” Well, they didn't “to the rescue” worth a cent. A colored man
with a bayonet had every recruit's breast at the point of his weapon,
three soldiers surrounded me, and one run his bayonet through the breast
of my coat and out under my arm, and held me on my tip-toes, and I
was powerless, except with my mouth. The old gentleman, our most
distinguished guest, came up to me, and I said to him, in confidence,
so our guests could hear, however, with a smile, “This may seem to you a
singular proceeding. I cannot explain it to you now, as I am pledged to
secrecy by my government, but I will say that the duty we are on here is
part of a well-laid plan of our commander, and this seeming arrest is
a part of the plan. This colored sergeant is innocent. He is simply
obeying orders, and is a humble instrument in carrying out our plan. I
expected to be arrested before morning, but hoped it would be after our
party. However, we soldiers have to go where ordered. We shall be thrown
into prison for a time, but when this detective or secret service work
on which we are engaged is done, we will take pleasure in calling upon
you again, wearing such laurels as we may win. We bid you good-night,
and wish you much happiness.” They all shook hands with us, evidently
believing what I had said, and even the sergeant seemed to take it in,
for, after the crowd had gone, the sergeant said, “You will excuse me,
kernel, for what I have done. I didn't know about any 'plan.' All I knew
was dat the provost-marshal told me to go up to Carrollton and pull
dem recruits dat was camping at de beer garden, and fotch 'em to de
guard-house.” I told him he did perfectly right, and then we recruits
packed up our things and marched with the colored soldiers to New
Orleans, about six miles, and we slept in the guard-house. The next
morning the provost-marshal called upon us, damned us a little for not
insisting on being sent to our regiments, found out that my regiment was
up the river two hundred miles, and seemed mad because I passed it
when I come from St. Louis. I told him I was not expected to go hunting
around for my regiment, like a lost calf. What I wanted was for my
regiment to hunt me up. That afternoon he put me on an up-river boat
with a tag on my baggage telling where I belonged, and I bid good-bye
to the recruits, after having had three months of fun at the expense of
Uncle Sam.