HOMEWARD BOUND.
General Morgan's division, of the 14th Corps, led out from its camp at
Holly Springs at half past five o'clock on the morning of the 29th of
April, and marching to the railroad camped near it, eight miles west of
Raleigh, at Page's Station, where it procured supplies for its homeward
march.
Remaining at this place until the 1st of May, it took up the march for
the city of Richmond, and crossing the Neuse river at Fisher's Dam,
camped on the first night four miles north of this dam and twenty miles
from Oxford, after a hard march of twenty-two miles.
The column led out of camp the next morning at five o'clock A.M., and
passing through Oxford, camped three miles north, marching twenty-three
miles. Led out of camp on the morning of the 3rd, and being cut off by
the 3rd division of the 20th Corps, made a forced march round it, and
came in ahead of its advance, but Morgan gave the road; then continuing
on, camped on the Roanoke river, four miles into Virginia, having
marched about eighteen miles.
Led out of camp on the 4th at half past three A.M., and crossing the
Roanoke river at Faylor's Ferry, six miles above Huskington, on a
pontoon bridge, marched through Boydton and camped on the Meherrin
river. Marched twenty-three miles. Led out at five o'clock A.M. on the
5th; crossed Little and Big Meherrin rivers, and marching through
Lewiston, crossed Nottoway river and camped four miles from Nottoway
C.H., having marched twenty-seven miles over bad roads. Resumed the
march on the 6th at half past four o'clock, passing through Nottoway
C.H. and Dennisville, camped late at night at Good's Bridge on the
Appomattox river, having made a hard march of thirty miles under the
pressure of a warm day.
Crossed the Appomattox river on the 7th, and marching camped on Falling
creek, five miles from Richmond. Made twenty-five miles. Now ended the
march until the 11th.
It was a race between the corps commanders of Slocum's wing. Sherman
ordered his Generals not to march over fifteen miles per day, but
instead, General Davis made from twenty-two to thirty. It was an
imposition of the worst feature, for many a good soldier was killed
that might not have been, all for a foot race.
On this march the Eighty-sixth traveled one hundred and sixty-one miles
over a beautiful country, in the latter part of spring, everything
assuming a lovely aspect; and had the march been conducted as it was
ordered to have been, it might have enjoyed the trip. All the
inhabitants came out to see the Yankees; the old and young, the white
and black, came from far and near to get a view. The regiment now set
to work after its usual manner in the erection of comfortable quarters,
which it had completed in a short time, and then took the world easy.
It was encamped in a vicinity made renowned by the wars of the great
rebellion, where the contending forces of the Rebel and Union armies
had maneuvered for so long a time for the mastery.
At this camp, it will be remembered, the commanding officers issued a
deal of their surplus whisky to the division, which proved the
harbinger of rows, riots, fights of a stirring and noisy kind, too
numerous to mention. After four days rest, the division resumed its
march for Washington City early on the morning of the 11th of May, and
passing through Manchester, crossed the James river and entered the
city of Richmond from the south-west. Now, for the first time, it
beheld the once great Rebel Capital--the anaconda and boa-constrictor
of rebel vengeance. When the command reached the north side of the
James, the Libby prison could be seen on the right, where so many of
our captured soldiers have languished and died under the cruel care of
its keeper. Then, a short distance above the Libby, and on the same
side of the street, stood Castle Thunder, also a place of infamous
reputation. Passing on, it was met by hundreds of peddlers dealing out
their pies, cakes, cheese, and such, by the wholesale. The city did not
show the ravages of war as much as was expected; true, a part of it had
been burnt on its evacuation, but aside from this there was nothing to
show that it had been so long the theatre of war; neither racked nor
ruined, but compact, neat and clean.
All were surprised not to see huge entrenchments, high as the Chinese
walls; but alas! there was nothing but an ordinary line of works around
it, no stronger than the Eighty-sixth had often made on the Atlanta
campaign in one night! "As strong as Richmond" had become a by-word. In
front of Kenesaw, the Chattahoochie and Atlanta, may be found stronger
works by far, thrown up in just one mortal night, than are to be seen
on the south-west and north of Richmond.
Jeff. Davis, in his Sodom and Gomorrah of the Confederacy, was not as
secure as many were wont to think. Sherman would have snaked him out
sooner than he did if he had had his "flanking machine" in operating
distance. But time progressed, the world moved, and Richmond fell.
Passing through Richmond, the command marching northward, camped four
miles from Hanover C.H., making sixteen miles. Led out of camp at
twelve o'clock M. on the 12th, and passing through Hanover C.H.,
crossed the Pamunky at Little Page's Bridge, and camped four miles
above it, making eight miles. The course of march on the 13th was
north-west, crossing the railway at Chesterfield, and camped one mile
beyond Childsburg, making eighteen miles.
The march of the 14th was still north-west. The command camped on
Plentiful creek by an old mill, having made an easy march of eighteen
miles. Resuming the march on the 15th in a north-western direction, the
command crossed the Rapidan river at Raccoon Ford, and camped for the
night on the north bank, having marched seventeen miles. Led out of
camp on the Rapidan at seven A.M. on the 16th, the Eighty-sixth
Illinois being train guard and crossing the North Fork of the
Rappahanock at Kellie's Ford, marched and camped near Catlet's Station,
making twenty-two miles.
Marched from Catlett's Station at half past four A.M. on the 17th, and
following the railway, passed through Manassas Junction and camped on
the Bull Run battlefield, having marched twenty-five miles under a hot
sun.
Resumed the march at five A.M. on the 18th, and passing through Fairfax
C.H., camped within nine miles of Washington, having marched fifteen
miles. Again, at nine A.M. on the 19th, the march was resumed, the
command camping at a point equidistant from Washington and Alexandria,
and four miles from each, having marched five miles. From its camp at
this place the Eighty-sixth Illinois saw the distant dome of the
Capitol for the first time.
Soon again the regiment had comfortable quarters, and enjoyed them
hugely after so long and arduous a march. It marched one hundred and
forty-four miles on its journey from Richmond to Washington, consuming
eight days in doing it. On this march all were surprised not to find
the country cut up with all kinds of works incident to war, for such
things were not to be seen to any formidable extent. At Manassas
Junction there were a few old forts, then in ruins, that may have been
at some time quite formidable, but never wonderful. At Bull Run was to
be seen the strongest entrenchments on the line of march, which had
been built and held by the rebel army.
The following are the casualties of the regiment from the time it left
Savannah until its muster out:
Recruits 6
Resigned 2
Transferred 5
Discharged 12
Ordinary deaths 4
Killed in action 3
Died of wounds 5
Missing in action 8
Wounded in action 20
Wounded, accidental 1
---
Aggregate 66
Immediately upon the arrival of Sherman's army at Washington City,
General Grant issued orders for the review of the Grand Army of the
Potomac to take place on the 23rd, and that known as Sherman's army to
take place on the 24th. Thousands of people flocked from all parts of
the country to witness the grand pageant. The most ample preparations
had been made for the occasion. The President was seated on an elevated
stand, surrounded by his Cabinet officers, foreign ministers and
distinguished strangers. Pennsylvania Avenue was lined on both sides
from end to end with admiring people; every window presented its
tableau of fair spectators; and the occasion was such as had never
before been witnessed on the American continent. The daily papers all
over the land soon flourished lively descriptions of the great and
grand review; and according to them and the judgment of most of the
spectators, the Army of the West bore off the palm; they described it
as more graceful, more stalwart and more intelligent than the Grand
Army of the Potomac.
On the occasion of this grand review of Sherman's army, a certain New
York paper, the _Independent_, paid our division a very high
compliment. It said:
"The finest looking set of men in either army--they were also said
to be the best drilled--was the 2nd division of the 14th Corps,
composed of Western troops, and commanded by General James D.
Morgan, of Quincy, Illinois, one of the bravest of the brave, the
idol of his soldiers, and called by them 'Our Jimmy Morgan.'"
But as for the soldiers themselves, grand pageantry in the line of
reviews had "played out." What was charming to the assembled multitude
was no joyous affair to them. Their good time came, however, when the
attention of officials was turned to mustering out.
On the morning of the review of Sherman's army, our division led out of
its camp at an early hour, and by a slow and tiresome march it arrived
at Washington and passed before the admiring crowd between one and
three o'clock P.M., marching back to camp in the evening, where it
arrived as much fatigued as if it had been pursuing rebels.
At twelve o'clock M. on the day after the grand review, General Morgan
moved his division across the long bridge over the Potomac into
Washington City, and thence three miles north, where he camped it near
the President's summer houses.
While encamped here the boys were allowed many privileges in and around
the Capitol; all the guards being taken off, they were allowed to run
wild, though they did not run riot.
Here also the Eighty-sixth Illinois, on the evening of the 6th of June,
1865, was mustered out of the United States service, having been
engaged in the service of its country as an organized body for three
years wanting two months and twenty-two days.
Immediately after this the boys of the regiment saluted each other as
American citizens and not as soldiers, and though the metamorphosis was
sudden, it seemed to have the force of a protracted transformation.
The following are the casualties of the regiment from the time it left
Lee and Gordon's Mills until its muster out:
Recruits 6
Transferred by promotion 1
Transferred to other regiments 31
Discharged 21
Ordinary deaths 11
Killed in action 48
Missing 33
Deserted 6
Wounded in action 133
Wounded, accidental 9
Died of wounds 15
Resigned 2
Surrendered from desertion 1
----
Aggregate 323
The entire casualties of the Eighty-sixth Regiment, during its term of
service, in killed and died, discharged, transferred and deserted, was
four hundred and sixty-seven men, the company loss being as follows:
+-------------+------------+-------------+--------------+-----------+
| | Killed and | Discharged. | Transferred. | Deserted. |
| | Died. | | | |
+-------------+------------+-------------+--------------+-----------+
| Company A | 29 | 16 | 9 | 1 |
| Company B | 5 | 21 | 12 | 3 |
| Company C | 11 | 25 | 7 | 8 |
| Company D | 16 | 19 | 9 | 3 |
| Company E | 15 | 25 | 6 | 2 |
| Company F | 15 | 26 | 4 | 3 |
| Company G | 16 | 10 | 6 | 1 |
| Company H | 12 | 22 | 8 | 0 |
| Company I | 22 | 18 | 7 | 8 |
| Company K | 20 | 20 | 5 | 2 |
+-------------+------------+-------------+--------------+-----------+
| Total | 161 | 202 | 73 | 31 |
+-------------+------------+-------------+--------------+-----------+
The regiment lost fifty-one men killed and one hundred and fifty-four
wounded in battle, having participated in twenty-two engagements, not
mentioning many others in which it rendered assistance by supporting,
guarding flanks, or protecting rear. It marched thirty-five hundred and
thirty miles, and was transported by railroad about two thousand miles,
making a total distance of five thousand five hundred and thirty miles,
besides a great deal of traveling about camps, on picket, etc., that is
not taken into account.
There were three hundred and seventy-nine men mustered out with the
regiment; besides this number there were many absent at hospitals and
on detail who could not be present at the muster-out. Two days after it
was mustered out of the service, the regiment boarded the cars, at the
depot in Washington City, on its way to Chicago, there to receive its
pay, disband and go home.
From Washington it passed through Baltimore _via_ Harrisburg and
Pittsburgh to Chicago, where it arrived at twelve o'clock M., on the
11th of June. Everywhere on its route it received expressions of the
most cordial welcome. Every one seemed rejoiced that the soldier boys
were coming home from the bloody wars, in every way showing their
grateful feeling of warmest sympathy for the services they had rendered
to Union and liberty.
At Pittsburgh it received the kindest welcome of them all. More genuine
sympathy was manifested there than the boys had yet experienced. In
behalf of this people was engendered a feeling of the most profound
regard. The regiment was escorted from the cars to the city hall by a
band discoursing delightful music, where was prepared a dainty meal for
all. After dinner, it was escorted back to the train, by the same band,
amid the waving of handkerchiefs from the crowds that thronged the
streets and balconies, and the "God bless you" from a thousand lips. So
long as our minds can retrace the past, and so long as our hearts are
capable of a generous emotion, will we continue to hold in sacred
remembrance, the noble and generous-hearted people of Pittsburgh.
Every one anticipated a hearty welcome at Chicago, inasmuch as it had
been extended elsewhere on the route; but we were cruelly and sadly
disappointed. No one met the regiment at the depot even to tell it
where to go. Every window presented its tableaux of fair spectators,
but no signal was made in token of welcome, no hearty "God bless you"
emanated in audible words from a single heart, but they gazed as if
upon a menagerie of southern wild beasts. The men were chagrined, and
would exclaim, "This is Richmond, not Chicago!"
The regiment finally found its way to Camp Fry and pitched its tents.
Here it remained until the 21st, waiting impatiently for its pay and
discharge.
The good folks of Chicago, however, determined not to allow the boys to
leave their city until they had assuaged their anger. Accordingly, the
Eighty-sixth and 125th Illinois received an invitation to appear at the
Sanitary Fair rooms, and partake of the fatted calf, where they
received not only a substantial dinner, but also several stirring
speeches, among which was one made by General Sherman.
The General spoke as follows:
FELLOW SOLDIERS: I regret that it has fallen to my task to speak to
you, because, I would rather that others should do what is most
common to them, and less so to me. But, my fellow soldiers, it
gives me pleasure to assure you that what the President of this
Fair has told you just now is true--that a hearty welcome awaits
you wherever you go, not only in Chicago but everywhere. Many
people think you want bread and meat, but your faces and my
knowledge tell me that you prefer the waving of handkerchiefs and
the applause of the people to all the bread and meat that fill the
warehouses of Chicago. (Cheers.) Those soldiers who are now before
me know where bread and meat can and will be found. (Laughter.) All
we ask and all we have ever asked, is a silent and generous
acknowledgment of our services when rendered in the cause of our
country.
And, fellow soldiers, when you get home among those who will
interest you more than anything I can say, just call to mind where
you were twelve months ago. You remember the Kenesaw Peak and
Little Kenesaw. It is not a year since you stormed them, and lost
my old partner and friend, Dan. McCook. That was on the 27th June,
1864. In June, 1865, you stand in the midst of Chicago, surrounded
by bright colors, and ladies, and children. Then you were lying in
the mud, the rocks and the dirt, and you knew that there was an
enemy we had to fight with and conquer, and we did not exactly know
how to do it. (Laughter.) But we were patient; we reconnoitered--we
watched their flanks--we studied the ground--and in three days we
had Johnston and his whole army pinned; he retired, and we did not
give him a chance of stopping until he had put the Chattahoochie
between us and him. That is a lesson to you. Temporary defeat is
nothing when a man is determined to succeed. You are not
conquered--you never can be conquered when the mind is clear and
determined in its purpose; you must succeed--no temporary defeat
can cause failure.
You will remember that on the 4th of July we stood close to each
other, and we told them then that they would have to go farther
than Atlanta, for we should continue to go on. (Cheers.) You will
remember how their pickets told us they had reinforcements. Yes,
but what? They had one of our Corps--Schofield's. (Laughter.)
Before General Johnston knew, or dreamed of it, I had reinforced
his side of the Chattahoochie by General Schofield's 23rd Corps.
From this, my fellow soldiers I want you to learn the lesson, no
matter where you are, to-day or to-morrow, by keeping a purpose
close in your mind, in the end you will succeed, whether it be in
military, civil, social or family affairs. Let no difficulty appal
you--let no check alarm you--let your purpose in life be clear and
steadfast--keep in view the object and design of your life, and
just as sure as you are now before me in health and strength, you
will succeed.
You are now returned to your homes, and the task now allotted to
you is that of the future. The past is disposed of--it may soon be
forgotten; but the future is before you, and that future will be
more glorious than the past. Look at your own State of
Illinois--look at the city of Chicago. It is hardly as old as any
of you, for twenty-five years ago a little military garrison was
here--a two-company post; and now it is a city of palaces, of
streets, railroads, etc. You, the men of a city almost the second
in the United States of America, are to assist in directing the
affairs of this country. You have the patience and industry, and
more than that, you have organization, discipline and drill, and if
I have been instrumental in teaching you this--in maintaining
discipline, order and good government in the army which I have had
the honor to command, I am contented; for on this system, and on
the high tone of honor which pervades your minds, must be built the
empire of America. (Loud cheers.)
I did not wish to address you, but I believe that there are no
others here who desire to speak, and therefore I ask you to accept
what is given in heartiness--a full, joyous, welcome home to
Chicago. I know it is genuine, for I myself have experienced it.
Feel you are at home--and that there are no more rebels, no more
raking fire--no more shot; but that you have done with them all
forever. Good morning.
On the afternoon of the 21st of June, having been in Chicago just ten
days, every member of the Eighty-sixth received his pay and final
discharge. Soon, the boys scattered to the four winds, bound for home
and friends. Suddenly, the Eighty-sixth Illinois passed from existence!
* * * * *
Here ends the history of the good old Eighty-sixth Regiment of
Volunteer Infantry, which had undergone so many days of hardships,
perils and privations for the maintenance of home, union and liberty.
There is no surviving member of the regiment, but will always pride
himself in having belonged to that organization; he will never forget
the sad and repulsive scenes of the past, in connection with the merry
days of yore; he will ever cherish in lasting remembrance the many
noble and heroic comrades who have fallen by his side--men with whom he
has passed the most trying hours of his existence--men who knowing the
rights of their friends, their country and homes, dared raise the
strong right arm in defense. Ay! he will ever invoke a just Heaven to
reward them as their merit deserves, and in his hours of sad
reflection, he will drop a tear to their memory.
REGIMENTAL ROSTER.
REGIMENTAL STAFF.
Colonel David D. Irons; August 27, 1862; died August 11, 1863, at
Nashville, Tennessee.
Lieutenant-Colonel David W. Magee; August 27, 1862; resigned March 25,
1864, at Camp McAfee, Georgia.
Lieutenant-Colonel Allen F. Fahnestock; April 13, 1864; mustered out
with regiment at Washington City.
Major J. S. Bean, August 27, 1862; resigned December 26, 1862, at
Nashville, Tennessee.
Major O. Fountain; December 26, 1862; resigned October 30, 1863, at
North Chickamauga.
Major J. F. Thomas; April 13, 1864; mustered out with regiment at
Washington City.
Surgeon M. M. Hooton; August 27, 1862; mustered out with regiment at
Washington City.
First Assistant Surgeon J. Gregory; August 27, 1862; transferred to
U.S.C., December 15, 1863.
Second Assistant Surgeon I. J. Guth; August 21, 1862; mustered out with
regiment at Washington City.
Adjutant J. E. Prescott; August 27, 1862; resigned December 26, 1862,
at Nashville, Tennessee.
Adjutant C. D. Irons; ----; resigned April 25, 1863, at North
Chickamauga.
Adjutant L. J. Dandy; ----; discharged April 25, 1865, per order War
Department.
Regimental Quartermaster C. H. Dean; August 27, 1862; promoted A.Q.M.,
February 18, 1864.
Regimental Quartermaster A. Bracken; February 18, 1864; mustered out
with regiment at Washington City.
Chaplain G. W. Brown; August 27, 1862; resigned October 13, 1863, at
Nashville, Tennessee.
Chaplain J. S. Millsaps; October 13, 1863; mustered out with regiment
at Washington City.
NON-COMMISSIONED STAFF.
Sergeant-Major L. J. Dandy; promoted.
Sergeant-Major D. E. Ward; mustered out with regiment.
Quartermaster Sergeant J. Adams; died February 19, 1863.
Quartermaster Sergeant C. Magee; mustered out with regiment.
Commissary Sergeant T. A. McNorris; discharged.
Commissary Sergeant W. J. Longfellow; mustered out with regiment.
Hospital Steward Jo. Robinson; mustered out with regiment.
Principal Musician A. Webber; mustered out with regiment.
Principal Musician S. B. Silzell; mustered out with regiment.
COMPANY OFFICERS.
COMPANY A.
Captain W. S. Magarity; August 27, 1862; resigned October 10, 1863.
First Lieutenant Jo. Major; August 27, 1862; promoted Captain October
10, 1863, and mustered out with regiment.
Second Lieutenant S. T. Rogers; Aug. 27, 1862; promoted First
Lieutenant October 10, 1863, and resigned from wounds received in
battle, June 27, 1864. J. J. Jones, promoted First Lieutenant.
COMPANY B.
Captain E. C. Beasley; August 27, 1862; resigned January 28, 1863. J.
P. Worrell, promoted Captain.
First Lieutenant J. C. Kingsley; August 27, 1862; mustered out with
regiment at Washington City.
Second Lieutenant N. McVicker; August 27, 1862; resigned Jan. 17, 1863.
P. W. Wycoff, promoted Second Lieutenant.
COMPANY C.
Captain J. F. Thomas; August 27, 1862; promoted Major, April 13, 1864,
and mustered out with regiment. W. G. McDonald, promoted Captain.
First Lieutenant J. H. Batchelder; August 27, 1862; Brigade Commissary,
and mustered out with regiment.
Second Lieutenant R. B. Beebe; August 27, 1862; resigned Feb. 1, 1863.
COMPANY D.
Captain Frank Hitchcock; August 27, 1862; mustered out with regiment at
Washington City.
First Lieutenant W. D. Faulkner; August 27, 1862; mustered out with
regiment at Washington City.
Second Lieutenant W. H. Hall; August 27, 1862; resigned Jan. 14, 1863.
I. L. Gleares promoted Second Lieutenant.
COMPANY E.
Captain O. Fountain; August 27, 1862; promoted Major Dec. 26, 1862. J.
F. Waldrof, Captain, resigned June 18, 1863. E. Van Antwerp, Captain,
died July 15, 1864.
First Lieutenant M. Grave; August 27, 1862; resigned January 13, 1863.
Second Lieutenant S. W. Williams; August 27, 1862; resigned January 11,
1863. H. W. Wilson promoted First Lieutenant.
COMPANY F.
Captain J. L. Burkhalter; August 27, 1862; mustered out with regiment
at Washington City.
First Lieutenant N. D. Combs; August 27, 1862; resigned January 11,
1863.
Second Lieutenant John Hall; August 27, 1862; promoted First
Lieutenant, and mustered out with regiment at Washington City. A. P.
Loveland promoted Second Lieutenant.
COMPANY G.
Captain W. B. Bogardus; August 27, 1862; died of wounds received in
battle March 19, 1865.
First Lieutenant S. L. Zinser; August 27, 1862; promoted Captain;
mustered out with regiment.
Second Lieutenant M. Kingman; August 27, 1862; promoted First
Lieutenant; mustered out with regiment.
COMPANY H.
Captain J. H. Hall; August 27, 1862; mustered out with regiment at
Washington City.
First Lieutenant E. E. Peters; August 27, 1862; resigned July 12, 1863.
W. F. Hodge promoted First Lieutenant.
Second Lieutenant D. W. Merwin; August 27, 1862.
COMPANY I.
Captain A. L. Fahnestock; August 27, 1862; promoted Major January 31,
1864.
First Lieutenant A. A. Lee; August 27, 1862; promoted Captain Jan. 31,
1864.
Second Lieutenant J. L. Fahnestock; August 27, 1862; resigned Jan. 23,
1863. R. W. Groninger promoted Second Lieutenant.
COMPANY K.
Captain J. F. French; August 27, 1862; killed March 16, 1865. L. A.
Ross promoted Captain.
First Lieutenant J. B. Pete; August 27, 1862; discharged Dec. 24, 1864.
Second Lieutenant H. F. Irwin; August 27, 1862; dishonorably discharged
Nov. 29, 1862. John Morrow promoted Second Lieutenant.
CAPTAIN BURKHALTER'S ADVENTURE.
On the morning of the 20th of August, 1864, while our army was
besieging Atlanta, General James D. Morgan's division was ordered on a
raid to cut the Montgomery and Atlanta Railroad. Our brigade, the 3rd,
left its baggage in the rifle pits, leaving a sufficient guard with it.
The skirmishers were also left on duty under the command of Capt.
Burkhalter, the subject of our narrative.
Sometime after the division had gone, the Captain became lonesome and
anxious to know what the division was doing, so he attempted to follow
and see the fun. He followed it very well until within three or four
miles of the railroad, when a heavy rain overtook him; he stopped under
the shelter of a large tree until the storm had somewhat subsided, then
mounting his horse pursued what he supposed to be the right road, but
the pelting rain had obliterated every vestige of our course, and he in
consequence was in a dilemma as to what was best. It did not seem well
to turn back after having gone so far, so he determined to follow in
the probable course of the column until he found more evidence one way
or the other. On he went in a musing mood, doubting as he went.
Having now gone a long distance without any favorable signs, he had
about concluded to return, when on a sudden a stalwart reb, armed to
the teeth, stepped out from behind a tree and commanded the unwary
Captain to surrender. A complete surprise. What could he do; he had
left his sword and pistol in camp, not dreaming of this adventure.
He stopped instanter, obeying the summons of his captor, for there was
no other alternative; he was powerless. The next demand made of him was
his watch and pocket book.
The rebel, for a short distance, marched the Captain a few paces in
front, following close in the rear with a cocked gun, and leading the
horse by the reins; but this was not getting along fast enough, for the
horse would not lead good. He now ordered the Captain on horseback,
still walking close behind and directing the course of the prisoner by
proper military commands.
They had thus traveled about two miles when a horseman was heard to
approach on a keen trot from the direction of their front. This
horseman was supposed to be a rebel cavalryman, but on coming closer he
was discovered to be a Yankee. The rebel leveled his gun on him and
commanded his surrender; but saying nothing, the Yankee threw the reins
loose on the horse's neck and approached to the rebel's gun as if to
give up, but seizing it thrust it to one side, when off it went,
hurting no one.
The rebel was now at their mercy, if they could catch him, for he took
leg-bail. Both the Yankees pursued and finally captured him. The
Orderly--for the last character was the Captain's Orderly--tried to
shoot the fugitive, but his pistol would not go off.
Having captured the rebel, the Captain loaded his gun and demanded back
all that had been taken from him. The Captain soon after found the
column, bringing his captive with him, rejoicing--the rebel fighting
mad.
SOLDIERS' LETTERS.
Letters are the soldier's tonic. They will strengthen and restore when
army grub and other restoratives, duly proportioned, wholly fail. The
blues and all kinds of contagious diseases to which mortals are heir,
caused by idleness and the lack of proper diversion of the mind, are
soon uprooted by a good interesting letter from a fellow's most
affectionate. Give soldiers full rations and regular mail, then there
can nowhere be found a more rational set of men than they. But letters
are sometimes like our crackers and pork, unfit for use. Such letters
do no good--they are no good. There is a sheet full of writing, to be
sure, but it is about something that neither interests nor concerns us.
Those letters that tell us about the little things of home; the farm,
the horses, the cattle, the dogs and cats, their quality and
disposition; also the parties and frolics, who is going to see who, and
what people say about it, are the very letters that do all this good I
have been telling about.
The soldiers will always crowd around the ones who get such letters,
make remarks and ludicrous suggestions which cause bursts of hearty
laughter and strains of highest merriment, thus passing the tedious
hours of camp life in a light and merry way.
No one cares for a letter which is wholly devoted to the praise and
admiration of one's patriotism and to the sacredness of the Union
cause.
Such letters bore to the very quick. It seems to them that the writer
is taking that opportunity to speak a word of eulogy for himself. As
for the true soldier, he never asks for words of flattery; he is not to
be gulled with bland words and braggadocio. The letter for the soldier
is the long, pithy one, full of little things, even down to gossip.
_Gossip is better than eulogy_, especially when used in an egotistical
manner.
BATTLE.
Much has been said and written about battle, the greater portion of
which is an exaggeration of facts. Fireside writers and reporters have
composed long manuscripts, beginning and ending in frantic agonies and
seas of blood, exhausting the vocabulary of pathetic epithets. That
battle is dreadful cannot be denied, but those who have passed through
the fiery ordeal do not experience half the convulsions and agony of
soul that is written. If a comrade falls, the column still moves on. No
one, by the late rules of war, dare stop to bear off the wounded or
sympathize with those in the throes of death. There are men detailed
for that purpose, who follow up in the rear and give those in need due
attention.
A soldier in a pitched battle does not pretend to know who is hurt
until the battle is ended; he must needs push ahead and do his part
until he is no longer able. Many of your comrades fall around you; they
show unmistakable symptoms of severe wounds, but your attention is too
much engrossed to ever think to inquire the nature of their wounds. You
are hardly conscious of any suffering around you. Excitement has borne
you off so that you never think to look and see who is on your right or
left, or whose spirit is winging its flight from the body over which
you are walking. The soldier does not seem to feel pangs of sorrow when
arms clash the loudest; he does not see danger and suffering and
ghastly sights until all is over and quiet restored. Those who are
unacquainted with the mental condition of the soldier in time of
battle, wonder and ask why it is that those whom he knows so intimately
are wounded and many times killed by his side without knowing the
nature of their wounds or the circumstances of their death. The reason
for this is manifest from what has already been said.
There is oftentimes more horror in the idea and dread of battle than in
the thing itself. The soldier becomes so accustomed to human butchery
that it loses many, very many, of its horrors.
After battle, when the clash of arms has ceased, is when the soldier's
sympathy is tried. The solicitations of the maimed and dying raise a
feeling of commiseration in the most obdurate heart; and still this
feeling is of but short duration and of a mild character.
FARMING IN THE SOUTH.
Farming in the Southern States is carried on in a very simple and
seeming ignorant style. One could not refrain from laughing at their
oddity in agricultural pursuits. They are a great many years behind the
North in this respect, as well as in many others.
The whites and negroes are so sluggish, indolent and careless in their
habits that their works are a fair prototype of themselves. There is a
difference between a farm and a plantation, though they are carried on
in nearly the same style; the main difference is that the one is gotten
up on a larger scale than the other. What is usually called a farm is
owned by a poor white man--while the plantation is owned by a wealthy
planter, with his hundreds of negroes. The farm is known by its small
area, by its improvements and its little old log house with its
appendages; the plantation, by its vast area, its stately mansion and
numerous negro shanties. The improvements are usually very poor, with
but few conveniences. On every plantation you will see a cotton press
and gin house, with the stable under the latter. The cotton press is
the first thing you get your eyes on when you approach a plantation,
and then the gin house next. And as for the farms or little
plantations, you scarcely know anything about them until you have them
suddenly spread before your view. There is hardly ever anything
external to warn one of their presence.
It is, as it were, a swath mown in the deep pine forest--the labor of a
poor ignorant being, who, like the parrot, can talk and palaver with
simple unmeaningness, but ignorant of the world beyond a radius of ten
miles. The people, for the most part, break up their ground with one
horse or ox, as the case may be, their plows being suited to the
purpose.
This small plow is made after the fashion of our large two-horse
breaking plows, and is, as we are wont to say, right or left handed.
Some farmers are too poor to afford a horse or mule; in this case they
work an ox as if he were a horse, hitch him to the plow and drive him
with ropes attached to his horns with as much precision as a horse or
mule.
The oxen here may be of a more docile breed than found in our parts,
and certainly are, for it would be dangerous with us to hitch one to a
plow and start him on a row through a cornfield, for he would likely
jump the fence before he reached the other end.
The rows of corn here are usually six feet apart, with a row of negro
beans between. If one man can tend eight acres he thinks he is doing
good business; the corn is hardly ever plowed, it being worked with the
hoe for the most part.
The women work in the field as well as the men, they being used to it.
They will not believe us when we tell them that our women do not work
in the field. When an acre of ground yields twelve bushels of corn it
is thought to be a fine crop. They gape with wonder when we tell them
we break our ground with two horses, plow our corn with a plow on which
we can ride; that one man can tend forty acres and raise forty bushels
to the acre. When we tell them about our reapers, our vast fields of
wheat, oats, etc., etc., they gape, and wonder what we do with it all.
If we tell them about our large prairies, rich soil and productive
land, they wonder why they had not heard of that before.
Their principal diet is corn bread, meat and negro beans. These nigger
beans, by the way, are not so bad, just the thing for the soldier; many
farmers raise them altogether, so to speak. It is a common thing to see
cribs of these beans as you pass through the country; it takes them so
short a time to cook, which adapts them to our use. Corn and beans are
not their only productions, for they sometimes grow a little wheat,
oats, tobacco and cotton. Many reap their grain with the sickle, not
having known the existence of the cradle. There are no reapers to be
seen, or if at all, but seldom.
As a people, they have no enterprise; they live only to eat, and even
that is done in a poor, unhandy style.
There are a great many turpentine, rosin and tar factories in "the
sunny land of Dixie." There are vast tracts of land here, covered with
dense forests of pine, that can be put to no other use than the
production of these things. In North Carolina these factories are most
numerous. They are built on small streams of water, and for miles
around the trees are hewn on two sides; the turpentine running out,
gums on the tree where it is hewn. On our march we burned many of these
factories; they made a grand, huge smoke, most sublime.
It is impossible for a person who has not seen the like to form a
proper idea of the real grandeur and sublimity of these dense volumes
of black, agitated smoke, brightened betimes with lofty flames of
liquid fire that seem to lift themselves in the fury of their madness
to the very skies.
REBEL LETTER.
This letter, written by a rebel soldier, was found on the battle-ground
at Bentonville, N. C.
BIVOUAC NEAR "RACCOON FORD," VA.,
September 25th, 1863.
DEAR COON--I have just received your kind favor of the 8th inst.,
and am very much gratified with its contents. I could not expect a
long letter from a soldier "in the field," and I suppose your time
was fully taken up reorganizing your company and regiment.
Since last writing you we had some little excitement ourselves.
The Yankee, Meade, has tried to take advantage of our supposed
decimated army, and has advanced across the Rappahannock river to
the banks of the Rapidan. We have here checked his advance and are
awaiting the attack which he is very slow about making. I think
both sides are awaiting the decision of the battle in Tennessee and
Georgia before a move is made.
We are daily in receipt of glorious news from Bragg, but there are
so many rumors without foundation that we hardly know what he has
done. I hope he will not rest until he has driven the foe across
the Ohio. You have our brag fighting general with you now, and I
know you will be victorious.
I have not heard a word from "Miss Mattie" since I left home, and
if the truth must be told, I never want to again. I have found a
new sweetheart, and I think the change is more agreeable, at least
to me. I suppose you know that Miss Katie Furlow's father is
running for Governor; of course you will support him.
You recollect that pretty little woman that I showed you in the
theatre in Augusta, the one I said was the belle of Augusta--Miss
Fannie Hatch. Well, I have been told by one who knows and believes,
that "Albert," who performed with the "Queen Sisters" that night,
has betrayed her. I can scarcely believe that so much loveliness
would have fallen so easily, yet they say 'tis true.
I shall anxiously wait to hear further from you in reference to the
lieutenancy. If you are successful in securing it for me (which I
hope and pray you may be,) I shall be ever grateful to you.
I have not seen Joe Holt since the reception of yours, his regiment
being on picket guard. I know he would send you his kind regards,
if he knew I was writing to you. Accept my best wishes, and believe
me to be
Truly your Friend,
A. KENT BISEL.
P.S.--Please direct to Co. "K," 4th Georgia, Dole's Brigade,
Rhodes' Division, Ewell's Corps, A.N.V., and always to Richmond,
Virginia.