AN UNEXPECTED RIDE
On a beautiful clear night, while still in the Corps d’Afric, a party
of ladies and officers walked a short distance to a cabin where a
negro preacher drew a large crowd. This man, though uneducated, was a
wonder of natural oratory and eloquence. In addressing his admiring
audience his vocabulary was remarkable, as he used some extraordinary
sentences such as--“All the englomerated hosts of heaven.”
While at this meeting an orderly came for me saying that a couple of
officers from the front desired to see me at my tent. I found there
two uniformed, mounted officers awaiting me, one of whom proved to be
my old friend Captain Frank Dexter of the Engineer Corps.
The night was perfect in a mild atmosphere and a full orbed moon, and
I was reminded of James’ old time “Solitary Horseman,” though here
were _two_ rarely handsome men of fine physique; and as they stood,
holding their fiery steeds, they formed a romantic picture.
After a pleasant talk of home and friends they remounted, and with
raised sombreros, their spurred horses dashed away to the clinking
of sword and hoofs, while the bright moon rays glinted uniforms and
accoutrements, till they passed under the shadow of the distant woods.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN B. F. DEXTER]
Captain Dexter had raised Company L of the Fiftieth Volunteer
Engineer Corps early in the war, and still commanded that company
at Petersburg front, and during many battles. After the close of
the war, he became a successful physician, and in addition to his
practice in New York City he held for many years the position of
Police Surgeon.
As some patients needed fresh milk, I started out boldly one
afternoon, with an orderly carrying an empty pail and a basket of
extracts and small supplies. We rode through the woods beyond our
lines to a secesh house quite near. On the piazza were a pretty young
girl and a young Confederate officer in full grey uniform. With them
were two or three ladies. At first they were suspicious lest it was
a ruse on our part to capture the young “reb,” but a pleasant talk
followed, and they were glad to exchange some quarts of milk for the
small luxuries that they had been so long unable to secure, and to
arrange an exchange of milk for such articles in the future.
We gave the sick rebel prisoners the same attention as our own boys.
One asked why we were so kind to them, and I replied--“Why, don’t you
know we’re feeding you up to make you well and then send you back so
we can fight you over again.” This greatly amused them.
A rumor spread through the camp that the rebel gunboats were coming
down the James to capture the hospital. Much excitement followed
as to what we women would do; should we try to escape or should we
remain with the sick? We promptly decided to remain with our boys;
but happily the gunboats did not come.
My only recreation was an occasional horseback ride, accompanied by
a mounted orderly. As there was only one lady’s saddle in camp, it
was difficult to secure it. Two or three high cavalry saddles were
altered so that women could ride, uncomfortably, on them. I once
rode a horse from General Russell’s headquarters at the Point, and
found the animal quite unmanageable. He at once started for a run
and it was impossible to check or hold him. I barely managed to hold
on, winding the reins about my hands, and bracing myself in the too
small saddle. We passed a hotel on the road where many officers
were sitting, then General Grant’s tent, and then dashed down the
road over a pile of logs, nearly upsetting some soldiers at work
there. With a sudden stop that nearly sent me over the horse’s head
the animal stood quietly in front of General Russell’s open office
window, where the General and his staff were consulting. They sprang
up at the clatter and, gasping for breath, I said, “General, I didn’t
come to see you because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t help it.”
And there was a general laugh. The check rein had been forgotten.
Another horse took me back very quietly, but for many days the
strained muscles stood out like those of an athlete, and there was
pain enough through my entire body to make me sympathize with a
chronic “rheumatic.”
We sometimes rode to U. S. Headquarters to see the drill and
inspection of General Russell’s colored brigade. General Grant often
stood beside his magnificent black horse at these inspections, and
was very proud of the perfect drill of the negro infantry, whom he
complimented, to their great happiness. These were the first colored
troops I had seen.
According to General Butler’s autobiography “The first regiment of
colored soldiers was mustered in at New Orleans on August 22d, 1862.
Better soldiers never shouldered a musket. They learned to handle
arms and to march more readily than white men.”
How little thought and justice has been given to the fact that, when
enlistments began, and as the demand for Confederate troops became
more imperative, even old men and boys were drafted into the Southern
army,--for light duty perhaps. In some cases there was not a white
man within many miles, and to the care and honor of these negroes,
plantations of hundreds of acres were left that they might continue
to raise food and supplies for their army. Despite the fact that
thousands of these negroes had practically no restraint to fear, they
cheerfully labored against a cause that even at that early day they
felt was for their emancipation, and yet I never heard of an uprising
that could not have been checked by helpless women. There was not a
case of robbery, destruction of property or rapine among the faithful
workers who became the protectors of Southern women and children.
[Illustration: GENERAL CHARLES HALPIN]
In a sketch of the life of General Charles Halpin, (Private Miles
O’Reilly) occur the following verses. “Sambo’s Right to Get Kilt”
was written to accustom the Northern soldiers to the presence of the
negro. They had so strong a prejudice against the negro that they did
not like him even to be killed in the company of white soldiers. Its
effect was astonishing and its argument was unanswerable, and negro
soldiers were ever after held in the respect due to their orderly
conduct. General Butler considered them a necessity of Northern
success, mainly due to the wonderfully skilled pen of General
Halpin, who died at the early age of thirty-seven, at the height of
literary honor.
SAMBO’S RIGHT TO BE KILT
Some tell us ’tis a burnin’ shame
To make the naygars fight;
An’ that the thrade of bein’ kilt
Belongs but to the white.
But as for me, upon me sowl!
So liberal are we here
I’ll let Sambo be murthered instead of myself,
On every day in the year.
On every day in the year.
And in every hour in the day,
The right to be kilt I’ll divide wid him,
An’ divil a word I’ll say.
In battie’s wild commotion,
I shouldn’t at all object
If Sambo’s body should stop a ball
That was comin’ for me direct;
And the prod of a Southern bagnet,
So ginerous are we here,
I’ll resign and let Sambo take it
On every day in the year.
On every day in the year, boys,
And wid none of your nasty pride,
All my right in a Southern bagnet prod
Wid Sambo I’ll divide.
The men who object to Sambo
Should take his place and fight;
And it’s better to have a nayger’s hue
Than a liver that’s wake and white.
Though Sambo’s black as the ace of spades,
His finger a thrigger can pull,
And his eye runs sthraight on the barrel-sights
From under its thatch of wool.
So hear me all boys darlin’,
Don’t think I’m tippin’ you chaff,
The right to be kilt we’ll divide wid him
And give him the larger half.
CHARLES GRAHAM HALPIN.
(Miles O’Reilly.)