_Dress Coats versus Blouses--Military Law--Bill the
Cook--Courts-Martial--Important Decision in Military Law--'A Man with
Two Blouses on' can be compelled to put a Dress Coat on top--A Colored
French Cook and a Beefy-browed Judge-Advocate--The Mud March--No
Pigeon-holing on a Whiskey Scent--Old Joe in Command--Dissolution of
Partnership between the Dutch Doctor and Chaplain._
Necessity knows no law. Military law springs from the necessity of the
case, and may be said, therefore, to be equivalent to no law. However
plausible the principles embodied in the compact periods of Benet and De
Hart may appear, in actual practice they dwindle to little else than the
will of the officer who details the court. General Officers, tried at
easy intervals, before pains-taking courts, in large cities, may have
opportunity for equal and exact justice; but Heaven help their inferiors
who have their cases put through at lightning speed, before a court
under marching orders, and expecting momentarily to move.
The Act of Congress, with a wise prescience of the jealousies and
bickerings always arising between Regulars and Volunteers, provides that
Regulars shall be tried by Regular, and Volunteers by Volunteer
Officers. In practice, the spirit of the law is evaded by the
subterfuge, that a Regular Officer, temporarily in command of
Volunteers, is _pro tempore_ a Volunteer Officer. In the Mexican War,
where the number of Volunteer Officers was comparatively small, there
may have been a necessity for this. With our present immense Volunteer
force there can be none whatever; and the practice is the more
inexcusable, when we consider the great amount of legal as well as
military ability among the officers of this force. The gross injustice
of this violation of the act, must be apparent to any one upon a
moment's reflection. Officers, whose only offence may be their belonging
to the Volunteer Service, are too frequently subjected to the tender
mercy of a Board of Martinets;--men of long service and tried ability,
degraded by the fiat of a court composed of officers as tender in
intellect as in years, and whose only recommendation to be members of
the court, is their recent transfer from lessons in gunnery and
drills;--with patent leather knapsacks, to field or higher positions in
the Volunteer Service. Thus, the officer whose earnestness in the cause
and heavy sacrifice of family ties and business affairs, first raised
the command,--who grew with its growth during months, perhaps years, of
hard service,--saw through his untiring efforts the awkwardness of his
men change gradually for the precision of the veteran,--not unfrequently
by the snap judgment of men whose only service has been in Pay,
Quarter-Master, Commissary Departments,--anywhere but in a Fighting
Department,--finds himself dishonored, his service thrown aside for
naught, and his worst enemy the misuse of the laws he had taken arms to
vindicate.
Not an officer or soldier but must recollect a case in point. Now, this
mainly arises from the undue and unjust deference paid by the War
Department to Regular Officers, and the curse that attends them and
upholds them--Red Tape. _Undue and unjust deference._ Does not the
history of the Army of the Potomac prove it? Its heroic fighting, but
ill-starred generalship!
* * * * *
"Halloo, Bill! what news from the Sibley?" shouted one of a group of
officers who sat and lay upon the ground, cheerfully discussing hard
tack and coffee in the camp of a grand picket reserve, near the
Rappahannock. The man addressed would, in build, have made a good
recruit for the armies of New Amsterdam in their warfare against the
Swedes, so graphically described by Irving. Short and thickly set, with
a face radiant as a brass kettle in a preserving season, trousers thrust
in a pair of cast-away top boots, the legs of which fell in ungainly
folds about his ankles, a greasy blouse, tucked in at the waist-band,
and a cap ripped behind in the vain effort to accommodate it to a head
of Websterian dimensions. With all his shortcomings, and they were
legion, Bill's education, unfailing humor and kindness of heart made him
a favorite at regimental Head-quarters, where he had long been employed
as an attendant. When the sickness of the Lieutenant-Colonel grew
serious in the Sibley, Bill took his post by the side of his blankets,
and in well-meaning attention made up what he lacked in tenderness as a
nurse.
"Nothing new since the trial," drawled out Bill, seating himself
meanwhile, and mopping with his coat sleeve the perspiration that stood
in beads upon his forehead.
"Since the trial!" echoed the officer. "Why, they have not had notice
yet, and the General said he would give them ample opportunity for
preparation for trial."
"So he did," continued Bill. "They were put into the Sibley on Monday
night, and on Thursday night following, about half-past ten, when it was
raining in torrents, and storming so that the guards and myself could
scarcely keep the old tent up, that sucker-mouthed Aid of old Pigey's
popped his head inside the flaps and handed the Colonel and
Lieut.-Colonel each a letter. Both letters went on to say, that their
trial would take place the next day, at ten o'clock, at Pigey's
Head-quarters, and that each letter contained a copy of the charges and
specifications, and that, in the meanwhile, they could prepare for
trial, provide counsel, and so forth. The best part of two sheets of
large-sized letter paper was filled with the charges against each, all
in Pigey's hand-writing.
"'Disrespectful language towards the General Commanding Division;'
'Conduct tending to Mutiny;' 'Disobedience of Orders;' and
'Violation of at least half a dozen different articles of war.'
"The ink was green yet, as if it had all been done after three o'clock.
The Lieutenant-Colonel, you know, told that wharf rat of an Adjutant
before the General, that he would not dare to make such mis-statements
away from Division Head-quarters. Well, on the strength of that, he had
him charged with sending a challenge to fight a duel, and telling his
superior officer that he lied. Lord! when I heard them read, I thought
they ought to be thankful that one of the darkies about Division
Head-quarters hadn't died in the meanwhile, or there would have been a
charge of murder. It might just as well, at any rate, have been murder
as mutiny, that we all know. Time for trial!--lots of time! Just the
time to hunt a lawyer, consult law books, and drum up testimony."
"Timed purposely, of course," broke in the officer, indignantly, "and
the Court, no doubt, packed to suit. But," his face brightening, "there
is an appeal to Father Abraham."
"It is all very well to talk about Father Abraham," continued Bill, in
the same drawling tone; "but if you have to hunt up Honest Old Abe
through the regular military channels, as they say you have to, he'll
seem about as far off as the first old Father Abraham did to that rich
old Cockey that had a big dry on in a hot place."
"Bill," said the officer, as he saw the crowd inclined to laugh at the
remark, "this is by far too serious a matter to jest about. Here are two
men of character and position, devoted to the cause body and soul,
completely at the mercy of an officer whose conduct is a reproach to his
command, and who is malicious alike in deeds and words."
"Especially the latter," interrupted Bill, more hurriedly than before.
"The Colonel says he was chief witness, and swore the charges right
straight through, without wincing. The Judge Advocate, they said, was a
right clever gentlemanly fellow, but ignorant of law, and completely at
the disposal of the General. I saw him several times when I was passing
backwards and forwards, and he looked to me as if the beef was a little
too thick on the outside of his forehead, for the brains to be active
inside. Still, the Colonels have no fault to find with him, except that
between times he would talk about drinking to Little Mac, and brag about
the prospect, as the papers seem to say, of Fitz John Porter's being
cleared. But then most of the Court did as much at that as he did. He
did his duty in the trial, I guess, as well as his knowledge and old
Pigey's will would allow."
"Well, Bill, give us some particulars of the trials, if you know them,"
suggested an officer of a neighboring regiment--the party during the
conversation being increased by additions of officers and privates.
"I only know what I saw passing back and forth, and what I heard from
the Colonels themselves. They wouldn't allow any one to go within three
yards of the tent in which they held Court; but I'll give you what I
have, although to do it I must go back a little:--Before it was light on
the day of trial the Major posted off to our Corps Commander with an
application for a continuance, on the ground of want of time for
preparation. About daylight the General came out, rubbing his eyes,
wanting to know who that early bird was?
"'Playing Orderly, sir,' said he, as his eye lit upon the letter in the
Major's hand. 'Fine occupation for a man of six feet two, with a Major's
straps upon his shoulders.'
"The Major wilted till he felt about two feet six, but mustered presence
of mind sufficient to tell the General his errand, and how his personal
solicitude had prompted him to perform it himself. The General heard him
kindly; stated that he had no doubt but that the Court would act
favorably upon the application, and that it should be referred to them.
The Court, when it met, acted favorably, so far as to give the Colonel,
who was tried first, fifteen minutes to hunt a lawyer. But they wouldn't
let the Lieut.-Colonel act, as he was a party, and several others were
excluded on the ground of being witnesses, although they took good care
not to call them. Both pleaded guilty to the 'simple disobedience of
orders,' and the Court was ashamed to try them upon anything besides but
the 'disrespectful conduct;' in regard to which old Pigey's assertions
were taken, instead of the circumstances being proved. The Colonel was
too indignant at the treatment to set up any defence, but the
Lieutenant-Colonel cross-examined old Pigey until his testimony looked
like a box of fish-bait. The General swore that he had given him 'the
lie,' but upon being questioned by the Colonel, stated that 'he did not
believe the Colonel intended to call his personal veracity into
question.' In the same manner he had to explain away that duelling
charge. At last he got so confused that he would ram wood into the stove
to gain time, bite the ends of his moustache, play with the rim of his
hat, and when cornered as to the Lieutenant-Colonel's character as an
officer, to relieve himself, stated;--that he must say that the Colonel
had hitherto obeyed every order with cheerfulness, promptitude, great
zeal and intelligence, and that his intercourse with the Commanding
General had been marked by great courtesy at all times."
"The Colonel also stated further, that he had testimony to contradict
that Adjutant, or Wharf-Rat, as you know him best by. He had told me
before the trial to tell that young law student, Tom, a private of Co.
C, who heard the conversation that the Adjutant had testified to, to be
within calling distance during the trial, with his belt on, hair combed,
and looking as neat as possible. Well, in Tom came, his face and eyes
swelled up from a bad cold, a stocking that had been a stranger to soap
and water for one long march at least, tied about his neck to cure a
sore throat, his belt on properly, but his blouse pockets stuffed out
beyond it with six months' correspondence, and his matted and bleached
head of hair, through the vain effort to comb it, resembling the heads
of Feejee Islanders, in Sunday-school books. A smile played around the
lips of the gentlemanly old Massachusetts Colonel, who presided over the
Court, as he surveyed him upon entering, and a titter ran around the
Board, especially among some of the young West-Pointers. The Colonel's
face colored, and the Judge Advocate's eyes glowed as if he had a soft
block. But Tom was a singed cat; he always was a slovenly fellow, you
know, and he turned out to be a file for the viper.
"'Colonel,' said the Judge Advocate haughtily, 'have you any officers
who are prepared to vouch for the character and credibility of this
witness, as I see he is but a private?'
"'Yes, sir, if the Court please,' retorted the Colonel
indignantly,--then remembering how this same Judge Advocate had upon
former occasions affected to despise privates, he added: 'His character
and credibility are quite as good as those of half the shoulder-strapped
gentry of the Corps.'
"'Colonel,' said the President, blandly, 'there is an old rule requiring
privates to be vouched for, rarely insisted upon, at this day, however,'
casting, as he said this, a half reproachful look upon the Judge
Advocate; 'but we desire you to understand that your word is as good as
that of any officer before this Court.'
"The Colonel vouched for him, and Tom was examined, and contradicted
still further than his own cross-examination had done, the statement of
the Adjutant, besides snubbing the Judge Advocate handsomely. A string
of witnesses, from our Brigadier down to all the line officers of the
command, was then offered to prove character, but the Court very
formally told the Colonel that a superior officer, the Commanding
General of the Division, had already testified to this, and that this
rendered the testimony of officers inferior in rank quite superfluous.
So you see from this and Tom's case, Justice don't go it blind in
Courts-Martial, but keeps one eye open to see whether the witness has
shoulder-straps on or not."
"But, Bill," inquired a lawyer in the crowd, "did not the Colonel offer
to prove that the Regiment was amply supplied with clothing, and that
the order was unreasonable, and that it was not therefore a lawful
order, as the law is supposed to be founded upon reason?"
"Oh, yes, both did; but the Lieutenant-Colonel was told by the
President, that if General Burnside were to order the President to make
a requisition in dog-days for old Spartan metal helmets for his
Regiment, he would make the requisition.
"Said the Colonel, 'the President of the United States is by the
Regulations empowered to prescribe the uniform.'
"'That,' said the President, 'General Burnside must judge of. I must
execute the order, however unreasonable it may seem, first, and question
it afterwards.'
"'Suppose the General would order you to black his boots; or,' said the
Colonel, thinking that a little too strongly put; 'suppose that you were
second in command of a battery lying near a peaceful and loyal town, and
your superior, drunk or otherwise, would order you to shell it, would
you obey the order, and question it after having murdered half the
women and children of the place?' To which questions, however, the Court
gave the go-by, remarking simply, that they did not suppose that the
Colonel had any criminal intentions in disobeying the order. So, really,
it is narrowed down to the disobedience of, to say the least, a most
uncalled for order."
"And faithful, well intentioned officers are, for what is at most but an
honest blunder, treated like felons," said one.
"From their lively and confident manner," said Bill, "I believe that
they have assurances from Washington that all will be right. There is no
telling how long the Lieutenant-Colonel will last under this
confinement, however. He has failed greatly, and although so weak as to
be unable to walk alone, the General insists upon the guards being upon
either side whenever he has occasion to leave the tent. Even the sinks
were dug at over one hundred yards distance from the Sibley. And the
tent itself is located in such a manner that old Pigey can at all times
have his vengeance gratified by a full view of it, the three guards
about it, and my assisting the Lieutenant-Colonel from time to time. But
the guards esteem, and we all esteem the officers inside the Sibley more
than the General, who abuses his power in his marquee. Letters and
newspapers come crawling under the canvas. Roast partridges, squirrels,
apples, and delicacies that officers and men deny themselves of, find
their way inside, and while my name is Bill Gladdon they shan't suffer
through any lack upon my part, and I know that this is the opinion of
all of us."
"You all recollect the Sibley," said a Lieutenant, "that stands in the
rear of old Pigey's marquee, in which he gave the collation after the
last corps review, and welcomed our officers as he steadied himself at
the table, with 'Here comes my gallant 210th.' The Court met in that."
"Yes," resumed Bill, "the same. It stands near his cook tent, and while
his darkies were serving up French cookery, the Judge Advocate did the
work allotted him in endeavoring to justify by the trial, in some slight
manner, the General's outrageous conduct. I heard that Tom said, that
after the Judge Advocate had asked that he be vouched for, and the
Colonel became indignant, the Judge Advocate said somewhat blandly,
"'You must remember, Colonel, that this is not one of your ordinary
Courts of Justice.'
"'That it is not a Court of Justice,' retorted the Colonel, 'is very
apparent.'
"Both were put through in a hurry, at any rate. The different members of
the Court said that they all had marching orders, and they had no sooner
left the Sibley than they were upon horseback and on the gallop towards
their different commands. Our Doctor had detailed an ambulance to take
the Colonels in the rear of the Division. Old Pigey, in his usual
morning survey of the premises, saw it in front of the Sibley, and sent
an Orderly to take the rather lively, good-looking bays that were in it
and exchange them for the old rips that haul the ambulance his cooks
ride in. But we did not move then, although they say we will certainly
to-morrow."
* * * * *
That inevitable "they say," the common prefix to rumors in camp as well
as civil life, had given Bill correct information. For next morning, in
spite of the lowering sky, the camps were all astir with busy life, and
during the course of the forenoon column after column trudged along over
the already soft roads in a south-westerly direction. The movement was
the mad desperation of a Commander of undaunted energy. A vain effort to
appease that most capricious of masters, popular clamor. The rains
descended, and that grand army of the Potomac literally floundered in
the mud.
In an old field, thickly grown with young pines, very near the farthest
point reached in the march, our Regiment rested towards the close of the
last day of the advance, or to speak more truly, attempted advance.
Fatigued with the double duty of struggling with the mud and corduroying
the roads, the repose was heartily welcome.
"It does a fellow good to feel a little frisky,"
sang, or rather shouted, a little Corporal, whom we have met before in
these pages, as he made ridiculous efforts to infuse life into heels
clodded with mud.
"Talk as you please about old Pigey, boys, he's a regular trump on the
whiskey question. He'll cut red-tape any day on that. Don't you see the
boys?" continued the Corporal, addressing a crowd reposing at full
length upon the freshly cut pine boughs, conspicuous among whom was the
Adjutant;--pointing as he spoke to several men in uniform, but boys in
years, who were being forced and dragged along by successive groups of
their comrades.
"Couldn't stand the Commissary--stomachs too tender. Ha! ha! Pigey and
myself are in on that."
"What is up now, Corporal?" queried the Adjutant.
"Nothing is up; it's all down," retorted the Corporal, in a half
serious air, as he saluted the Colonel respectfully. "You see, Adjutant,
they are bits of boys at any rate, just from school, and the Commissary
was too much for their empty stomachs. I was sent back to hurry up the
stragglers, and while we were catching up as rapidly as possible, old
Pigey came ploughing up the mud alongside of us, followed by that
sucker-mouthed Aid. I saw at once that Division Head-quarters had a good
load on. With a patronizing grin, said the General stopping short
alongside of a wagon belonging to another corps, and that was fast
almost up to the wagon-bed, while the mules were fairly floating,
'What's in that wagon?' and without waiting for answer, 'whiskey, by
G--d,' he broke out, snuffing at the same time towards the wagon. 'Boys,
unload a couple of barrels,' he continued, good-humoredly, as if trying
to make up for the outrage he has just committed upon the Regiment. The
driver protested, and the wagon guards said that it could not be taken
without an order; but it was after three, and old Pigey ripped and swore
that his order was as good as anybody's, and the guards were frightened
enough to let our boys roll out two barrels. No pigeon-holing on a
whiskey scent! One barrel he ordered up to his head-quarters, and the
head of the other was knocked in, and he told us to drink our fill, and
at it the boys went. Tin cups, canteens, cap-covers, anything that would
hold the article, were made use of, and they are a blue old crowd, from
the General down. The boys had had nothing but a few hard tack during
the day, and it was about the first drink to some, and from the way it
tastes it must have been made out of rotten corn and not two months old,
and altogether straggling increased considerably."
"Straggling! why they are wallowing like hogs in the mud, Adjutant! It
is a shame, and if some one of my superiors will not prefer charges
against the General and his Adjutant, I will. Men of mine are drunk that
I never knew to taste a drop before," indignantly exclaimed the Western
Virginia Captain, as, with hat off, face aglow with perspiration, eyes
flashing, and boots that indicated service in taking the soundings of
the mud on the march, he came panting up with rapid strides. "Now, sir,
fourteen of my best men are drunk--the first drunken man I have had
during the campaign--and I'll be shot to death with musketry, sooner
than punish a single man of them."
"But discipline must be kept up," said the Adjutant.
"Discipline! do you say, Adjutant?" retorted the Captain. "If you want
to see discipline go to Division Head-quarters. Why old Pigey is
prancing around like a steed at a muster,--crazy! absolutely crazy! His
cocked hat is more crooked than ever, and the knot of his muffler is at
the back of his neck, and the ends flying like wings. Just a few minutes
ago he stopped suddenly while on a canter, right by one of my men, lying
along the road-side, that he had made drunk, and chuckled and laughed,
and lolled from side to side in his saddle, and then at a canter again
rode to another one and went through the same performance. And his
Adjutant-General--why one of my men not ten minutes ago led his horse to
Head-quarters. He was so drunk, actually, that his eyes looked like
those of a shad out of water a day,--his feet out of the stirrups, the
reins loose about his horse's neck, his hands hanging listlessly down,
and the liquor oozing out of the corners of his sucker mouth. And there
he was, his horse carrying him about at random among the stumps, and
officers and men laughing at him, expecting to see him go over on the
one side or the other every moment. Now, it is a burning shame. And I,
for one, will expose them, if it takes the hide off. Here are our
Colonels confined just for no offence at all,--for doing their duty, in
fact,--and this man, after having Court-martialed all that he could of
his command, trying to demoralize the rest by whiskey. Now, sir, the
higher the rank the more severe the punishment should be. Just before we
started Burney had an order read that we were about to meet the enemy,
and that every man must do his duty. And here is a General of Division,
in command of nine thousand men, as drunk as a fool."
"Let Pigey alone on the whiskey question, Captain," interrupted the
Corporal, who had in the meantime been refreshing his inner man by a
pull at his canteen. "He's a regular trump--yes," slapping his canteen
as he spoke, "a full hand of trumps any time on that topic. Like other
men, he drinks to drown his grief at our poor prospect of a fight."
"A fine condition he is in to lead men into a fight;--but not much worse
than at Fredericksburg," slowly observed the Preacher Lieutenant, who,
as one of the crowd, had been a listener to the story of the Captain.
"Drunkenness has cursed our army too much. But we cannot consistently be
silent in sight of conduct like this on the part of Commanders. The
interests of our men"----
"Have a care, Lieutenant," quietly observed the Adjutant, "how you talk.
'The interests of the men' have placed our Colonels under guard in the
Sibley."
"Not bolts, nor bars a prison make," resumed the Preacher more
spiritedly, "and I would sooner have a quiet conscience in confinement,
than the reproach of disgraceful conduct and command a Division."
* * * * *
Corduroying the entire route had not been proposed, when the army
commenced its movement; but it became apparent to all that progress was
only tolerable with it, and without it, impossible. On the day after the
above conversation, the army commenced to retrace its steps. Some days,
however, intervened before the smoke ascended from their old huts, and
the men in lazy circles about the camp fires rehashed their
recollections of the "mud march."
Like our repulse at Fredericksburg, it was, as far as our
Commander-in-Chief was concerned, a misfortune and not a fault. A change
in command was evident, however, and the substitution of the
whole-hearted, dashing Hooker for the equally earnest but more steady
Burnside, that took place in the latter part of January, occasioned no
surprise in the army. The new Commander went much farther, than old
attachments had probably permitted his predecessor in going, in removing
McClellanism. Grand Divisions were abolished; rigid inquiries into the
comforts and conveniences of the men were frequent, and senseless
reviews less frequent. Bakeries were established in every Brigade, and
fresh bread and hot rolls furnished in wholesome abundance, to the great
benefit of the Government, for hospital rolls were thereby depleted, and
reports for duty increased. Rigid discipline and daily drills too were
kept up, as "Old Joe" was a frequent visitor, when least expected. His
constant solicitude for the welfare of the men, manifested by close
personal attention, which the men themselves were witness to, rather
than by concocted newspaper reports, by which the friends of the soldier
in their loyal homes might be imposed upon, and the soldier himself not
benefited, endeared him to his entire command.
* * * * *
One clear, cold morning, during these palmy days of the army, the men of
the regiment nearest the Surgeon's Quarters were greatly surprised by
the sudden exit of a small-sized sheet iron stove from the tent occupied
by the Surgeon and Chaplain, closely followed up by the little Dutch
Doctor in his shirt sleeves, sputtering hurriedly--
"Tam schmoke pox!" and at every ejaculation bestowing a vigorous kick.
At a reasonably safe distance in his rear was the Chaplain, in half
undress also, remonstrating as coolly as possible,--considering that the
stove was his property. The Doctor did not refrain, however, until its
badly battered fragments lay at intervals upon the ground.
"Efry morn, and efry morn, schmoke shust as the Tuyfel. I no need
prepare for next world py that tam shmoke pox. Eh?" continued the
Doctor, facing the Chaplain.
"Come, Doctor," said the Chaplain, soothingly, "we ought to get along
better than this in our department."
"Shaplain's department! Eh! By G--t! One Horse-Doctor and one Shaplain
enough for a whole Division!"
The sudden appearance of Bill, the attendant upon the Colonels in the
Sibley, at the Adjutant's quarters, had the effect of transferring
hither the crowd, who were enjoying what proved to be a final
dissolution of partnership between the Chaplain and the Doctor.
"I know your errand, Bill," remarked the Adjutant, looking him full in
the face. "An orderly has just handed me the General Order. But what is
to become of the Lieutenant-Colonel?"
"You only have the order dismissing the Colonel, then. There was a
message sent about ten o'clock last night, a little after the General
Order was received at the Sibley, stating that at day-break this morning
the Colonel should be escorted to Aquia under guard, and that before
leaving he should have no intercourse whatever with any of his command.
Old Pigey also tried further to add insult to injury, by stating that
the Lieutenant-Colonel, who cannot, from weakness, walk twenty steps,
even though it would save his life, would be released from close
confinement, and might have the benefit of Brigade limits in our new
camp ground for exercise. You know that is so full of stumps and
undergrowth that a well man can hardly get along in it."
"So an officer of the Colonel's merit and services," remarked the
Adjutant, "was dragged off before daylight, and disgraced for what was
in its very worst light but a simple blunder, made under the most
extenuating of circumstances. Boys, if there be faith in Stanton's
pledged word, matters will be set right as soon as the record of the
case reaches the War Department. I am informed that he denounced the
whole proceeding as an outrage, and telegraphed the General; and we all
know that the General has been spending a good portion of the time since
the trial in Washington."
"And he came back," observed Bill, "yesterday morning, in a mood unusual
with him before three o'clock in the afternoon. He had his whole staff,
all his orderlies and the Provost Guard out to stop a Maine Regiment
from walking by the side of the road, when the mud was over shoe top in
the road itself,--and he flourished that thin sword of his, and raved
and swore and danced about until one of the Maine boys wanted to know
who 'that little old Cockey was with a ramrod in his hand,--' and that
set the laugh so much against him that his Aids returned their pistols
and he his sword, and he sneaked back to his marquee, and issued an
order requiring his whole command to stand at arms along the road side
upon the approach of troops from either direction."
"Which," remarked the Adjutant, "if obeyed, would keep them under arms
well nigh all the time, and would provoke a collision, as it would be an
insult to the troops of other commands, to whom the road should be
equally free. But it is a fair sample of the judgment of Pigey."