An Irish lad, so tight, all the wind and weather scorning,
At Judy Callaghan's door, sitting upon the paling,
His love tale he did pour, and this is part of his wailing:
Only say you'll be mistress Brallaghan;
Don't say nay, charming Judy Callaghan."
A score of voices pick up the chorus, and the hills and mountains seem
to join in the Corporal's appeal to the charming Judy:
"Only say you'll be mistress Brallaghan;
Don't say nay, charming Judy Callaghan."
Lieutenant Root is in command of Loomis' battery. Just before reaching
Logan's one of his provision wagons tumbled down a precipice, severely
injuring three men and breaking the wagon in pieces.
7. Left Logan's mill before the sun was up. The rain continues, and the
mud is deep. At eleven o'clock we reached what is known as Marshall's
store, near which, until recently, the enemy had a pretty large camp.
Halted at the place half an hour, and then moved four miles further on,
where we found the roads impassable for our artillery and
transportation.
Learning that the enemy had abandoned Big Springs and fallen back to
Huntersville, the soldiers were permitted to break ranks, while Colonel
Marrow and Major Keifer, with a company of cavalry, rode forward to the
Springs. Colonel Nick Anderson, Adjutant Mitchell and I followed. We
found on the road evidence of the recent presence of a very large force.
Quite a number of wagons had been left behind. Many tents had been
ripped, cut to pieces, or burned, so as to render them worthless. A
large number of beef hides were strung along the road. One wagon, loaded
with muskets, had been destroyed. All of which showed, simply, that
before the rebels abandoned the place the roads had become so bad that
they could not carry off their baggage.
The object of the expedition being now accomplished, we started back at
three o'clock in the afternoon, and encamped for the night at Marshall's
store.
8. Resumed the march early, found the river waist high, and current
swift; but the men all got over safely, and we reached camp at one
o'clock.
The Third has been assigned to a new brigade, to be commanded by
Brigadier-General Dumont, of Indiana.
The paymaster has come at last.
Willis, my new servant, is a colored gentleman of much experience and
varied accomplishments. He has been a barber on a Mississippi river
steamboat, and a daguerreian artist. He knows much of the South, and
manipulates a fiddle with wonderful skill. He is enlivening the hours
now with his violin.
Oblivious to rain, mud, and the monotony of the camp, my thoughts are
carried by the music to other and pleasanter scenes; to the cottage
home, to wife and children, to a time still further away when we had no
children, when we were making the preliminary arrangements for starting
in the world together, when her cheeks were ruddier than now, when
wealth and fame and happiness seemed lying just before me, ready to be
gathered in, and farther away still, to a gentle, blue-eyed mother--now
long gone--teaching her child to lisp his first simple prayer.
9. The day has been clear. The mountains, decorated by the artistic
fingers of Jack Frost, loom up in the sunshine like magnificent,
highly-colored, and beautiful pictures.
The night is grand. The moon, a crescent, now rests for a moment on the
highest peak of the Cheat, and by its light suggests, rather than
reveals, the outline of hill, valley, cove and mountain.
The boys are wide awake and merry. The fair weather has put new spirit
in them all, and possibly the presence of the paymaster has contributed
somewhat to the good feeling which prevails.
Hark! This from the company quarters:
"Her golden hair in ringlets fair;
Her eyes like diamonds shining;
Her slender waist, her carriage chaste,
Left me, poor soul, a pining.
But let the night be e'er so dark,
Or e'er so wet and rainy,
I will return safe back again
To the girl I left behind me."
From another quarter, in the rich brogue of the Celt, we have:
"Did you hear of the widow Malone,
Ohone!
Who lived in the town of Athlone,
Alone?
Oh! she melted the hearts
Of the swains in those parts;
So lovely the widow Malone,
Ohone!
So lovely the widow Malone."
10. Mr. Strong, the chaplain, has a prayer meeting in the adjoining
tent. His prayers and exhortations fill me with an almost irresistible
inclination to close my eyes and shut out the vanities, cares, and
vexations of the world. Parson Strong is dull, but he is very
industrious, and on secular days devotes his physical and mental powers
to the work of tanning three sheepskins and a calf's hide. On every
fair day he has the skins strung on a pole before his tent to get the
sun. He combs the wool to get it clean, and takes especial delight in
rubbing the hides to make them soft and pliable. I told the parson the
other day that I could not have the utmost confidence in a shepherd who
took so much pleasure in tanning hides.
While Parson Strong and a devoted few are singing the songs of Zion, the
boys are having cotillion parties in other parts of the camp. On the
parade ground of one company Willis is officiating as musician, and the
gentlemen go through "honors to partners" and "circle all" with
apparently as much pleasure as if their partners had pink cheeks, white
slippers, and dresses looped up with rosettes.
There comes from the Chaplain's tent a sweet and solemn refrain:
"Perhaps He will admit my plea,
Perhaps will hear my prayer;
But if I perish I will pray,
And perish only there.
I can but perish if I go.
I am resolved to try.
For if I stay away I know
I must forever die."
While these old hymns are sounding in our ears, we are almost tempted to
go, even if we do perish. Surely nothing has such power to make us
forget earth and its round of troubles as these sweet old church songs,
familiar from earliest childhood, and wrought into the most tender
memories, until we come to regard them as a sort of sacred stream, on
which some day our souls will float away happily to the better country.
12. The parson is in my tent doing his best to extract something solemn
out of Willis' violin. Now he stumbles on a strain of "Sweet Home," then
a scratch of "Lang Syne;" but the latter soon breaks its neck over "Old
Hundred," and all three tunes finally mix up and merge into "I would not
live alway, I ask not to stay," which, for the purpose of steadying his
hand, the parson sings aloud. I look at him and affect surprise that a
reverend gentleman should take any pleasure in so vain and wicked an
instrument, and express a hope that the business of tanning skins has
not utterly demoralized him.
Willis pretends to a taste in music far superior to that of the common
"nigger." He plays a very fine thing, and when I ask what it is,
replies: "Norma, an opera piece." Since the parson's exit he has been
executing "Norma" with great spirit, and, so far as I am able to judge,
with wonderful skill. I doubt not his thoughts are a thousand miles
hence, among brown-skinned wenches, dressed in crimson robes, and
decorated with ponderous ear-drops. In fact, "Norma" is good, and goes
far to carry one out of the wilderness.
13. It is after tattoo. Parson Strong's prayer-meeting has been
dismissed an hour, and the camp is as quiet as if deserted. The day has
been a duplicate of yesterday, cold and windy. To-night the moon is
sailing through a wilderness of clouds, now breaking out and throwing a
mellow light over valley and mountain, then plunging into obscurity, and
leaving all in thick darkness.
Major Keifer, Adjutant Mitchell, and Private Jerroloaman have been
stretching their legs before my fire-place all the evening. The Adjutant
being hopelessly in love, naturally enough gave the conversation a
sentimental turn, and our thoughts have been wandering among the rosy
years when our hearts throbbed under the gleam of one bright particular
star (I mean one each), and our souls alternated between hope and fear,
happiness and despair. Three of us, however, have some experience in
wedded life, and the gallant Adjutant is reasonably confident that he
will obtain further knowledge on the subject if this cruel war ever
comes to an end and his sweetheart survives.
14. The paymaster has been busy. The boys are very bitter against the
sutler, realizing, for the first time, that "sutler's chips" cost money,
and that they have wasted on jimcracks too much of their hard earnings.
Conway has taken a solemn Irish oath that the sutler shall never get
another cent of him. But these are like the half repentant, but
resultless, mutterings of the confirmed drunkard. The "new leaf"
proposed to be turned over is never turned.
16. Am told that some of the boys lost in gambling every farthing of
their money half an hour after receiving it from the paymaster.
An Indiana soldier threw a bombshell into the fire to-day, and three men
were seriously wounded by the explosion.
* * * * *
The writer was absent from camp from October 21st to latter part of
November, serving on court-martial, first at Huttonville, and afterward
at Beverly.
In November the Third was transferred to Kentucky.
NOVEMBER, 1861.
30. The Third is encamped five miles south of Louisville, on the
Seventh-street plank road.
As we marched through the city my attention was directed to a sign
bearing the inscription, in large black letters,
"NEGROES BOUGHT AND SOLD."
We have known, to be sure, that negroes were bought and sold, like
cattle and tobacco, but it, nevertheless, awakened new, and not by any
means agreeable, sensations to see the humiliating fact announced on the
broad side of a commercial house. These signs must come down.
The climate of Kentucky is variable, freezing nights and thawing in the
day. The soil in this locality is rich, and, where trodden, extremely
muddy. We shall miss the clear water of the mountain streams. A large
number of troops are concentrating here.
DECEMBER, 1861.
1. Sunday has just slipped away. Parson Strong attempted to get an
audience; but a corporal's guard, for numbers, were all who desired to
be ministered to in spiritual things.
The Colonel spends much of his time in Louisville. He complains bitterly
because the company officers do not remain in camp, and yet fails to set
them a good example in this regard. We have succeeded poorly in holding
our men. Quite a number dodged off while the boat was lying at the
landing in Cincinnati, and still more managed to get through the guard
lines and have gone to Louisville. The invincible Corporal Casey has not
yet put in an appearance.
The boys of the Sixth Ohio are exceedingly jubilant; the entire regiment
has been allowed a furlough for six days. This was done to satisfy the
men, who had become mutinous because they were not permitted to stop at
Cincinnati on their way hither.
4. Rode to Louisville this afternoon; in the evening attended the
theatre, and saw the notorious Adah Isaacs Menken Heenan. The house was
packed with soldiers, mostly of the Sixth Ohio. It seemed probable at
one time that there would be a general free fight; but the brawlers were
finally quieted and the play went on. One of the performers resembled an
old West Virginia acquaintance so greatly that the boys at once
y'clepped him Stalnaker, and howled fearfully whenever he made his
appearance.
7. Moved three miles nearer Louisville and encamped in a grove. Have had
much difficulty in keeping the men in camp; and this evening, to prevent
a general stampede, ordered the guards to load their guns and shoot the
first man who attempted to break over. Have succeeded also in getting
the officers to remain; notified them yesterday that charges would be
preferred against all who left without permission, and this afternoon I
put my very good friend, Lieutenant Dale, under arrest for disregarding
the order.
12. In camp near Elizabethtown. The road over which we marched was
excellent; but owing to detention at Salt river, where the troops and
trains had to be ferried over, we were a day longer coming here than we
expected to be. The weather has been delightful, warm as spring time.
The nights are beautiful.
The regiment was greatly demoralized by our stay in the vicinity of
Louisville, and on the march hither the boys were very disorderly and
loth to obey; but, by dint of much scolding, we succeeded in getting
them all through.
13. Have been attached to the Seventeenth Brigade, and assigned to the
Third Division; the latter commanded by General O. M. Mitchell. The
General remarked to me this morning, that the best drilled and
conditioned regiments would lead in the march toward Nashville.
15. Jake Smith, the driver of the head-quarters wagon, on his arrival in
Elizabethtown went to the hotel, and in an imperious way ordered dinner,
assuring the landlord, with much emphasis, that he was "no damned common
officer, and wanted a good dinner."
18. In camp at Bacon creek, eight miles north of Green river. Have been
two days on the way from Elizabethtown; the road was bad. There were
nine regiments in the column, which extended as far almost as the eye
could reach.
At Louisville I was compelled to bear heavily on officers and men. On
the march hither I have dealt very thoroughly with some of the most
disorderly, and in consequence have become unpopular with the regiment.
20. General Mitchell called this afternoon and requested me to form the
regiment in a square. I did so, and he addressed it for twenty minutes
on guard duty, throwing in here and there patriotic expressions, which
encouraged and delighted the boys very much. When he departed they gave
him three rousing cheers.
21. A reconnoissance was made beyond Green river yesterday, and no enemy
found.
We are short of supplies; entirely out of sugar, coffee, and candles,
and the boys to-night indicated some faint symptoms of insubordination,
but I assured them we had made every effort possible to obtain these
articles, and so quieted them.
Major Keifer was officer in charge of the camp yesterday, and when
making the rounds last night a sentinel challenged, "Halt! who comes
there?" The sergeant responded, "Grand rounds," whereupon the weary and
disappointed Irishman retorted in angry tones: "Divil take the grand
rounds, I thought it the relafe comin'."
22. The pleasant days have ended. The clouds hang heavy and black, and
the rain descends in torrents.
After eleven o'clock last night I accompanied General Mitchell to ten
regiments, and with him made the grand rounds in most of them. As we
rode from camp to camp the General made the time most agreeable and
profitable to me, by delivering a very able lecture on military affairs;
laying down what he denominated a simple and sure foundation for the
beginner to build upon.
The wind is high and our stove smokes prodigiously. I have been out in
the rain endeavoring to turn the pipe, but have not mended the matter at
all. The Major insists that it is better to freeze than to be smoked to
death, so we shall extinguish the fire and freeze.
Adjutant Mitchell has been commissioned captain and assigned to Company
C.
25. Gave passes to all the boys who desired to leave camp. The Major,
Adjutant and I had a right royal Christmas dinner and a pleasant time. A
fine fat chicken, fried mush, coffee, peaches and milk, were on the
table. The Major is engaged now in heating the second tea-pot of water
for punch purposes. His countenance has become quite rosy; this is
doubtless the effect of the fire. He has been unusually powerful in
argument; but whether his intellect has been stimulated by the fire, the
tea, or the punch, we are at this time wholly unable to decide; he
certainly handles the tea-pot with consummate skill, and attacks the
punch with exceeding vigor.
27. No orders to advance. Armies travel slowly indeed. Within fifteen
miles of the enemy and idly rotting in the mud.
Acting Brigadier-General Marrow when informed that Dumont would assume
command of the brigade, became suddenly and violently ill, asked for and
obtained a thirty-day leave.
I would give much to be home with the children during this holiday time;
but unfortunately my health is too good, and will continue so in spite
of me. The Major, poor man, is troubled in the same way.
28. Lieutenant St. John goes to Louisville with a man who was arrested
as a spy; and strange to say the arrest was made at the instance of the
prisoner's uncle, who is a captain in the Union army.
Captain Mitchell assumes command of company C to-morrow. The Colonel is
incensed at the Major and me, because of the Adjutant's promotion. He
intended to make a place in the company for a non-commissioned officer,
who begged money from the boys to buy him a sword. We astonished him,
however, by showing three commissions--one for the Adjutant, and one
each for a first and second lieutenant, all of the company's own
choosing.
30. Called on General Dumont this morning; he is a small man, with a
thin piping voice, but an educated and affable gentleman. Did not make
his acquaintance in West Virginia, he being unwell while there and
confined to his quarters.
This is a peculiar country; there are innumerable caverns, and every few
rods places are found where the crust of the earth appears to have
broken and sunk down hundreds of feet. One mile from camp there is a
large and interesting cave, which has been explored probably by every
soldier of the regiment.
31. General Buell is here, and a grand review took place to-day.
Since we left Elkwater there has been a steadily increasing element of
insubordination manifested in many ways, but notably in an unwillingness
to drill, in stealing from camp and remaining away for days. This, if
tolerated much longer, will demoralize even the best of men and render
the regiment worthless.
JANUARY, 1862.
1. Albert, the cook, was swindled in the purchase of a fowl for our New
Year's dinner; he supposed he was getting a young and tender turkey, but
we find it to be an ancient Shanghai rooster, with flesh as tough as
whitleather. This discovery has cast a shade of melancholy over the
Major.
The boys, out of pure devilment, set fire to the leaves, and to-night
the forest was illuminated. The flames advanced so rapidly that, at one
time, we feared they might get beyond control, but the fire was finally
whipped out, not, however, without making as much noise in the operation
as would be likely to occur at the burning of an entire city.
5. General Mitchell has issued an immense number of orders, and of
course holds the commandants of regiments responsible for their
execution. I have, as in duty bound, done my best to enforce them, and
the men think me unnecessarily severe.
To-day a soldier about half drunk was arrested for leaving camp without
permission and brought to my quarters; he had two canteens of whisky on
his person. I remonstrated with him mildly, but he grew saucy,
insubordinate, and finally insolent and insulting; he said he did not
care a damn for what I thought or did, and was ready to go to the
guard-house; in fact wanted to go there. Finally, becoming exasperated,
I took the canteens from him, poured out the whisky, and directed
Captain Patterson to strap him to a tree until he cooled off somewhat.
The Captain failing in his efforts to fasten him securely, I took my
saddle girth, backed him up to the tree, buckled him to it, and returned
to my quarters. This proved to be the last straw which broke the
unfortunate camel's back. It was a high-handed outrage upon the person
of a volunteer soldier; the last and worst of the many arbitrary and
severe acts of which I had been guilty. The regiment seemed to arise _en
masse_, and led on by a few reckless men who had long disliked me,
advanced with threats and fearful oaths toward my tent. The bitter
hatred which the men entertained for me had now culminated. It being
Sunday the whole regiment was off duty, and while some, and perhaps
many, of the boys had no desire to resort to violent measures, yet all
evidently sympathized with the prisoner, and regarded my action as
arbitrary and cruel. The position of the soldier was a humiliating one,
but it gave him no bodily pain. Possibly I had no authority for
punishing him in this way; and had I taken time for reflection it is
more than probable I should have found some other and less objectionable
mode; confinement in the guard-house, however, would have been no
punishment for such a man; on the contrary it would have afforded him
that relief from disagreeable duty which he desired. At any rate the
act, whether right or wrong, had been done, and I must either stand by
it now or abandon all hope of controlling the regiment hereafter. I
watched the mob, unobserved by it, from an opening in my tent door. Saw
it gather, consult, advance, and could hear the boisterous and
threatening language very plainly. Buckling my pistol belt under my coat
where it could not be seen, I stepped out just as the leaders advanced
to the tree for the purpose of releasing the man. I asked them very
quietly what they proposed to do. Then I explained to them how the
soldier had violated orders, which I was bound by my oath to enforce;
how, when I undertook to remonstrate kindly against such unsoldierly
conduct, he had insulted and defied me. Then I continued as calmly as I
ever spoke, "I understand you have come here to untie him; let the man
who desires to undertake the work begin--if there be a dozen men here
who have it in their minds to do this thing--let them step forward--I
dare them to do it." They saw before them a quiet, plain man who was
ready to die if need be; they could not doubt his honesty of purpose. He
gave them time to act and answer, they stood irresolute and silent; with
a wave of the hand he bade them go to their quarters, and they went.
General Mitchell hearing of my trouble sent for me. I explained to him
the difficulties under which I was laboring; told him what I had done
and why I had done it. He said he understood my position fully, that I
must go ahead, do my duty and he would stand by me, and, if necessary,
sustain me with his whole division. I replied that I needed no
assistance; that the officers, with but few exceptions, were my friends,
and that I believed there were enough good, sensible soldiers in the
regiment to see me through. He talked very kindly to me; but I feel
greatly discouraged. The Colonel has practically abandoned the regiment
in this period of bad weather, when rigorous discipline is to be
enforced, and the boys seem to feel that I am taking advantage of his
absence to display my authority, and require from them the performance
of hard and unnecessary tasks. Many non-commissioned officers have been
reduced to the ranks by court-martial for being absent without leave,
and many privates have been punished in various ways for the same
reason. It was my duty to approve or disapprove the finding of the
court. Disapproval in the majority of cases would have been subversive
of all discipline. Approval has brought down upon me not only the hatred
and curses of the soldiers tried and punished, but in some instances the
ill-will also of their fathers, who for years were my neighbors and
friends.
Very many of these soldiers think they should be allowed to work when
they please, play when they please, and, in short, do as they please.
Until this idea is expelled from their minds the regiment will be but
little if any better than a mob.
7. We hear of the Colonel occasionally. He is still at Louisville,
running his train on the broad gauge. His regiment, he says, has been
maneuvering in the face of the enemy beyond Green river, threatened
with an attack day and night. Constant vigilance and continued exposure
in this most inclement season of the year, so undermined his health that
he was compelled to retire a little while to recuperate. He affirms that
he has the best regiment of soldiers in the service; but, unfortunately,
has not a field officer worth a damn.