OUR FIGHTING COLONEL.
After the Bull Run campaign our regiment was detailed for garrison duty
again and sent to some forts near Arlington where we remained for a long
time.
Our colonel (with a foreign military experience?) was relieved of his
command immediately after Bull Run and there came to us a commander who
proceeded to jerk things straight in the regiment. His name was Jeremiah
N. G. Whistler and he had been in the regular army since he was a day old,
having been born in camp. He was all military, through and through, and a
disciplinarian of disciplinarians.
He drilled the regiment six days in the week and then had a Sunday
inspection, and succeeded in bringing the command to a high state of
perfection. He was a man of fiery temper and when anything touched it off
he could let out a string of oaths--of which he had a choice and
inexhaustible selection--that would produce a sulphurous atmosphere.
One Sunday morning when our company was marching by the colonel’s tent to
go out for inspection he noticed one of the men swinging his left arm, and
the next thing that the Co. H man knew the colonel had him by the coat
collar and was shaking him. Then leading him back to his place in the
ranks admonished him about repeating the arm swinging again.
But taken all in all he was a good officer and when we went to the front
again, excited the admiration of the men by his bravery under fire.
At Petersburg he was wounded and later was breveted for gallant and
distinguished service.
He re-entered the regular army after the war and at the time of his death
was a colonel.
Judging by the experience we had with three or four colonels, I should
pick out a regular army officer every time for a commander. They expect
the men to obey orders and do their full duty, and on the other hand a man
can depend on getting all that belongs to him and justice on all
occasions.
ATE THE COLONEL’S DINNER.
Col. Whistler was fond of good feeding and one day his cook served up his
dinner about the time that a staff officer from the brigade headquarters
rode up with a message for him. While he was on the outside reading it one
of the men happened along back of the tent and noticed the tempting
eatables waiting for an eater, and, being hungry, he slipped in and
proceeded to stow food away as only a hungry soldier can. He was so busy
about it that he did not notice the officer peering in the front of the
tent. The brazen effrontery of the man had rendered the officer
speechless. Finally he recovered himself enough to exclaim: “Do you know,
you d--d rascal, whose food you’re eating?” The man looked up as he helped
himself to another chicken wing, and said: “No, colonel, and I’m jiggered
if I’m the leastways particular about such things when I’m hungry and
rations are scarce.” The colonel admired the cheek and coolness of the man
and told him to eat his fill and if he ever heard of his telling of the
affair he would have him courtmartialed.
LOVE AND WAR.
While we were doing duty at Arlington many of the fair sex of Washington
and Georgetown frequently honored us with their presence at our dress
parades, and among them was the beautiful and charming daughter of Mrs. E.
D. E. N. Southworth, the gifted authoress, who resided in a pretty
rose-embowered cottage that nestled among the trees and shrubbery on
Georgetown heights, and just across the Potomac from our fort.
Adjt. Lawrence of the Second New York was about as slick a looking officer
as ever walked out in front of a regiment on dress parade, and it is not
strange that Miss Southworth fell in love with him, and an intimacy sprang
up that resulted in the fair young southern girl changing her name to Mrs.
James V. Lawrence.
During the preliminaries the writer was the bearer of many presumably
tender missives over to the Georgetown cottage, and as he had to wait for
the sweet-scented replies he was entertained by Mrs. Southworth, who
probably knew just how fond a young, growing boy is of lemonade, cakes and
other sweet things, and the charming lady took it upon herself to make
life very pleasant to the youngster during the brief visits at her home.
Soon after the marriage of the young couple Lieut. Lawrence was detailed
on staff duty and was never returned to our regiment.
CHRISTMAS IN CAMP.
How well I remember my first Christmas in camp. Our company was at Fort
Haggerty on the road leading from the Acqueduct bridge to Arlington. Capt.
Smith’s home had been one of the handsomest in Carthage before the war and
under his command the fort had been transformed into one of the slickest
ones in the defences of Washington.
Christmas morning in 1862, after the calling of the roll our company
formed in line and marched up in front of the captain’s quarters. Several
of the boys had provided themselves with some nice evergreen trees, and
when the captain appeared the command was given “present arms” and the
movement was executed with the trees. The fifer and drummer of the company
then played “Hail to the Chief” and “The Girl I Left Behind Me.”
The captain appeared mightily pleased and made us a nice little speech,
and said that he wished that he could send us all home for the holidays
but as that was an impossibility he had planned to make us as happy as
circumstances would permit, and the quartermaster had been furnished money
to get up a dinner in keeping with the occasion. Cheers and a tiger were
given for our kind-hearted commander, and then the voice of one who has
several times been mentioned by the writer spoke out: “Pardon me axin’ the
question, cap’n, but would there be a wee drop for anny so inclined?” The
captain smiled and nodded affirmatively.
Our camp was near where there had been a brick yard, and with old bricks
that had been dug out of the ground a tasty little house had been built
for the captain and a brick oven for the cooks. In this turkeys had been
roasted and rice puddings and potatoes baked. There was also oyster stew,
oysters and clams on the half shell and mince pies that some soldier’s
wife had made for us. None of old Co. H will ever forget that Christmas.
After the feast pipes, tobacco and cigars were passed, and then pails
of milk punch went round for those “so inclined.”
[Illustration: A GROUP OF CO. H. BOYS. Pat Devereaux and Author in
Foreground.]
Ah, dear, brave old Co. H, what would I not give to see you line up once
more as you did on that Christmas day in the long ago.
For more than twenty-five years I could, from memory, call the roll of the
original company, just as I had heard our old orderly, Tom Murphy, call it
so many times. Poor Tom earned his shoulder straps but sleeps in a
southern grave.
Of the boys who made merry with us in old Virginia on the Christmas day of
long ago, many gave up their lives on the battlefields of the south,
Potter, Williamson, Zeigler, Clapsaddle and Lieut. Roff at Cold Harbor;
Ed. Roland, Smith, Thurston, Slater, Crowner, Symonds at Petersburg; Billy
Cook, Frank Farr, Tom Murphy and several others between there and
Appomattox.
No, old Co. H will never again fall in for roll call on this side of the
“deadline.” The tents are folded, the implements of war are rusting, I
find that the cords and snares on my drum are fraying with age, “All is
quiet on the Potomac.”
’Tis but a memory.
VETERAN VOLUNTEERS.
A grave problem confronted the government in 1863 for within a few months
it would lose the services of most of its tried and seasoned soldiers by
reason of expiration of service. A proposition was made to the three
years men that if they would re-enlist they would receive $402.00 bounty
and a thirty day furlough. The proposition was accepted by a majority of
the old soldiers and the old organizations were retained with their
officers.
The most of our company and regiment re-enlisted. They sent us home in
squads, and when it came my turn I was laid up with the mumps and could
not go with my father.
While I was north on my furlough Gen. Grant assumed command of the army
confronting Gen. Lee and preparations were made for active operations.
My father wrote me that our regiment had received orders to be ready to go
to the front at an hour’s notice.
My furlough had several days to run but I took the first train for
Washington and in twenty-four hours walked into camp.
I found our regiment all ready and awaiting orders. Field tents, rubber
blankets and other things were issued to us which indicated that we were
to take the field.